Riding, Riding . . . La La La La La La

I used to ride. For fun. For exercise. For a personal challenge. A few years after law school I had a crisis of confidence in the choices I had made up to that point in my life. So I challenged myself to do something that would be - for me - really crazy and out of character and see it through to the end. And I did sort of. I decided to train for the Boston-to-New York AIDS Ride.* Yes, I decided to train to ride my bike (which I didn't have until after I decided to do the ride) over 200 miles (and fund-raise an insane amount of money for someone who hates to ask for favors - I think it was $2500 minimum to participate and that was 10 years ago). All the necessary money was raised. I trained as best as I could considering that along the way (1) my bike was stolen out of my car** and (2) I was in a car accident that put me out of commission for a few critical training weeks. I did the ride as best as I was able despite the fact that there was a huge hurricane that required cancelling the first day of the ride. I wore enormous but cool hot pink feathered wings I made on my helmet. I talked to complete strangers. It was a big deal to me to have done these things. I developed the courage to leave my job and try some new things.*** I am not saying that I ended up happier on the other side but when I have doubts about my abilities to accomplish things, I look back and remind myself that I did (for all intents and purposes) succeed in completing a major personal challenge that not even I thought I could accomplish

* I do not think this event, or the organization that sponsored it, even exists anymore but it was similar to the Avon 3-Day Breast Cancer Walk, except on bikes.

** Funny story - I never ever ever stored my bike in my car overnight but I was plannng to invest in a nice roof rack/bike carrier. I was going to get the rack put on the next day. So I decided to put in the car the night before because I wanted the installer to show me how to put the bike on the car after he installed the rack and I didn't want to get dirty before work jamming the bike in the back of my VW Golf. The rack money was used to buy a new bike - which was never left in the car again.

*** The universe was conspiring against me in part. I took some time off and goofed around at the beach (where I incidentally met my now-husband). When I decided it was time to try getting my act together again, I moved back to New York to look for a job in the city. My return date was September 7, 2001. By the middle of that week, my prospects for work in NY were looking pretty bleak.

Photo credit: k.steudel on Flickr

If The Sun Refused To Shine

Well it isn't refusing to shine today - it is glorious out today. But if the sun did refuse to shine today it wouldn't really matter. I am full of sunshine today. I feel full of light - I am aglow. I am feeling so full of joy right now - my heart feels enormous (flash to images of the Grinch's heart growing three times in size*). It is Friday. I am working close to home. I just got some very good news that I do not feel like sharing.** I treated myself to some yummy yarn that has been haunting me for weeks.*** I found a fun and easy pattern to make something.**** So the long and the short of it is that I feel pretty good today. And I am liking it!

* I really cannot find a video clip of just the heart growing scene from How the Grinch Stole Christmas on youtube.com. I am shocked.

** See earlier posts about on my thoughts about what to share and what to keep to yourself here, here, here, and here.

*** Thanks again for all your help, Allison!

**** For myself! I feel so selfish when I knit for myself but not guilty enough to not do it. This will only be the fourth thing that I will have made for myself in four years!

Photo credit: zoetnet on Flickr

Out of the Clear Blue Sky

The sky looks like this today. Clear. Virtually cloudless. You can see that it is warm but not too humid. Perfect. You want to lie on the beach on a day like this with the breeze blowing off the ocean, tickling your skin and curling up the edges of your towel. It reminds you of being a kid on vacation. There would be a cooler filled with sandwiches - the bread getting soggy because you packed them so early this morning. There would be peaches and plums in that cooler too and their juice would run down your chin with every bite you took. And when you went to lick the juice off your chin you would taste the salt that the air has lifted from the ocean and deposited on you. You would take long walks looking for shells, the cool waves lapping at your feet as you sink into the wet sand with every step. A nap would be in order after that followed by a cold can of soda wrapped in tin foil. Pack everything up and head back to the house after you build a big sand castle and rinse everything off in the water. Wait your turn for a shower - but you don't mind because it feels lovely to sit on the porch and read a few chapters of your book. You know you are going to sleep well tonight.

Photo credit: RichardBarley on Flickr

Reflection

I have stayed up late the past two nights. Like silly late - 2AM and 12:30AM. As detestable as the impact this has on me the next morning (can you say, "zombie" boys and girls?), the deliciousness of being alone to knit and have complete control of the remote is too sweet to pass up.

When I was single I would stay up really late for no reason. I lived by myself so I wasn't avoiding roommates. I think I enjoy being up late for the same reasons I love playing hooky. The day off you have when you ditch out school or work is so much more decadent and luscious than your regular weekend. Being up after midnight on a weeknight is the same - so illicit even if you are just curled up in old sweats watching an Entourage rerun.

Perhaps a night off from nights up tonight. I need to recharge my battery a bit. I'm making good progress on my knitting though . . . . I guess we will see.

Photo credit: A6U571N on Flickr

Green Dreams

I dream (well maybe that is a bit of hyperbole) of being able to garden. We bought our house two and a half years ago - and moved in right before the end of the year so it wasn't exactly gardening time. I was so looking forward to spring - getting out in the garden, moving things around, trimming trees and shrubs, even weeding. Then I found out I was pregnant so no heavy work for me. Then last year, I had this little baby who never napped. When was I supposed to find the time to garden. Okay - maybe this year? Well guess what - knocked up again! I am sure my neighbors hate us. The front yard is a hot mess. There is one tree limb that is so long is touches the ground. We have dead White Pines in the back yard - still with the stakes the tree wench* put in when they were planted over two years ago. The back yard is a mess - poor little boy can hardly go out to play back there. Between the dead stuff, the over grown trees, mulching debris along the perimeter of the yard, sticks, black walnut shells and dog poop we are a mess! Part of the problem is that I work 5 days a week and my husband works 6 days a week and we have no days off together. Another problem is that the Boy still doesn't really nap for long enough stretches to get anything done. Yet another problem is that the Boy is in a very adventurous phase - he needs to be watched at all times so a yard full of hazards is not an ideal place to let him run free. And then there are the mosquitoes who love to eat me up - they come out around 3:30 every afternoon until dark so no after work gardening for me. And the sun - even if the Boy did nap on the weekends for a big chunk of the afternoon the sun in the front of my house is so strong that the door knob on the front door will leave a blister on your palm if you touch it with a bare hand between noon and three in the afternoon. Maybe next year . . . .

*Another story for another day.

Photo credit: CHRISJAZ

According to wikipedia.com:

The term "lemur" is derived from the Latin word lemures, meaning "spirits of the night" or "ghosts". This likely refers to their large, reflective eyes and the wailing cries of some species.

Lemurs are not that interesting, at least not on wikipedia. The most interesting thing that I learned today about lemurs is that they tend to have a female dominated culture which is unusual in mammilian species. The description provided by wikipedia sounds, however, strikingly like most dates and marriages I am familiar with:

where this occurs, adult males exhibit submissive behavior to adult females in social settings, such as feeding, grooming, and sleeping site priority.

Think about it. In most households, who decides what is for dinner? Who spends more time in the bathroom getting ready? And how much of an ass does your man have to be for you to end up on the floor while he sleeps on the couch when you go visit an old friend from high school?

Maybe lemurs seem kind of boring because they are kind of like us.

Photo credit: Robert Zolkos on Flickr

When Words Escape You . . .

Photo title: Oscar Swartz in front of photographic art by Andreas Kock

Seriously, what could I possible add to that? Except that at first glance I thought the photo in the photo was an Afghan hound wearing sunglasses.

That's all I've got. Really.

Photo credit: texplorer

Throw Me To the Lions

So I haven't been here in quite some time. Life has a tendency to sneak in and interrupt the things we actually enjoy doing. Hopefully I will be able to resume my posting on a more regular basis. One of the reasons I stopped writing was that I was starting to feel like all I did was complain and I do not like being that person. One of the reasons for my return today is that Holly has been poking me with a stick for the past few weeks telling me to start writing again. And she "tagged" me with one of those "meme" things.

8x8

8 THINGS I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO

- seeing the Boy later

- seeing my husband

- leaving the office at the end of the day

- spending the weekend with my parents, brother, SIL, etc.

- making it to the beach this summer

- getting rid of this cough/cold/nasty sick thing

- finishing this list

- sleep

8 THINGS I DID YESTERDAY

- knit a baby hat

- went to the playground for over an hour

- ate crabs

- took a long walk

- felt guilty while I listened to the Boy cry and moan all through "nap" time

- dreaded the fact that the next day was Monday

- coughed

- laundry

8 THINGS I WISH I COULD DO

- win the lottery

- get my act together

- walk out of work and never look back

- be better at filling out these lists

- be a stay at home mom

- find time for a pedicure

- live closer to my parents

- be better at making friends

8 SHOWS I WATCH

- Project Runway

- America's Next Top Model

- CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

- Myth Busters

- The Fashion Show

- Big Love

- Entourage

- Weeds

8 FAVORITE FOODS

- good bread

- pasta

- sushi

- potato chips

- pizza

- a good burger

- fruit

- cheese

8 PLACES I HAVE TRAVELLED

- Maine

- Cabo San Lucas

- Israel

- Italy

- Germany

- Massachusetts

- St. John, USVI

- Puerto Rico

8 PLACES I WOULD LIKE TO TRAVEL

- Greece

- Arizona

- Grand Canyon

- Virgin Gorda

- Canada

- Russia

- Japan

- Thailand

8 PEOPLE I TAG

- if you are reading this, consider yourself tagged

Photo credit: flyone on Flickr

First Impressions (Day Sixtyone, Paragraph 67)

When I saw this photo, I thought, "That looks like a CLE*." The expressions on everyone's faces are all looks I've seen on faces at CLEs before(from left to right starting with the guy in the plaid shirt):

PLAID SHIRT GUY: I knew I should have brought the New York Times Saturday puzzle instead of the TV Guide puzzle . . . what am I going to do for the next three hours?

BLONDE WOMAN (just behind the guy in the tie): If I put my hand on my chin - like this - and squint my eyes just so and open my mouth as if I am just about to breathlessly say, "Wow, your Honor, that is the most fascinating thing I've ever heard" maybe my Motion for Summary Judgment will be granted on the papers and I won't have to do oral argument next Tuesday morning . . . ."

TIE GUY: I'm going to chuckle at all the appropriate places in this presentation. Everyone needs to be reminded of how clever I am.

ARGYLE-GLASSES GUY: Is my facial hair holding me back professionally?

BLONDE GIRL: This dude is totally trying to see down my shirt. Ewwww. Does my hair look okay?

BEARD GUY: Is that the chick from first year contracts over there? Is it? Dude, I have to poop. God she looks awful.

MR. BIG COLLAR: Oh yeah. You want me girl. You know you do. Stop being coy. I see that look in your eyes. Don't deny it. Everyone can see it.

MS. BANGS: Ugh. I'd rather be at the office. Wow. Too much cleavage, today I guess. Oh well. No one is looking at me anyway.

SLEEPING WOMAN: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

BLUE SHIRT: Hey! Someone's taking a picture! Why is someone taking a picture at a CLE? Who even brings a camera to a CLE? Where is that waitress with more coffee? Wait, is this my good side?

TAN SUIT: I have to pee but the door is so far away everyone is going to watch me go pee why did I sit so far from the door I have to pee but th edoor is so far away . . .

BLONDE SLEEPER: Must stay awake. Must stay awake. Must stay awake.

And yes, this really is a CLE class. Sometimes the first impression is right on.

*CLE is Continuing Legal Education; most states require that lawyers take a minimum number of credit hours every year or two years to assist in staying current with new developments in the law.

Photo credit: Jesse Michael Nix on Flickr

I Want To Go To There* (Day Sixty, Paragraph 56)

Doesn't that look heavenly? Instead of heavenly, I was going to say sublime but that seemed too corny once I really looked at the name of the photographer for this shot. That got me thinking about the word sublime. It doesn't take much to get my train of thought derailed. So I'm looking up the meaning of sublime. And I'm researching the origins of sublime. But it doesn't really matter what sublime means, or even where it came from, does it? The point is that this was supposed to be a post about how much I am jonesing for tranquil turquoise waters and white sand but my brain just won't focus on that for long enough for me to write something decent and engaging about that. And I think I have recently bemoaned my failure to vacation so I should really hold off on whining about that for a least a month or two. So anyway, I guess what I'm getting at here is that my brain does not process information in a straight line. I generally end up putting on a fairly polished and organized front when in reality I am down a rabbit hole somewhere thinking about whether or not a word means under a citrus fruit.

*Thank you, Liz Lemon, for the title of this post.**

** Thank you, Jenelle, for the asterisk idea.

Photo credit: sub_lime79 on Flickr

Doggy, Daddy, Potty (Day Fiftynine, Paragraph 53, 54 & 55)

Poor Maggie.* The Boy has become obsessed with the dog. He runs around the house yelling, "Doggy! Doggy! Doggy!" Maggie runs around the house looking for places to hide. The only real problem is that the Boy's "doggy" sounds very similar to his "Daddy" which sounds very much like his "potty" as well. This has made it tough to figure out what exactly we're talking about but the past few days it has been getting a little easier to figure out what is going on.

"Doggy" will generally be accompanied by a little bit of running about searching out/chasing the dog and then a sprint that ends in a schreeeeeeeeeeching halt just before the Boy hits Maggie's invisible force field followed by big grin and a chorus of "dee-dee-dee-dee-dee!" (that is the Boy singing and grinning; the dog is looking terrified by now!). Before the rapture takes over and the Boy tries to penetrate the demilitarized zone, I go over to show him the right way to approach the doggy-doggy-doggy and how to pet her with "nice hands."

"Potty" is something the Boy will say when he sees someone headed to the powder room or if he hears a toilet flushing and I think maybe (just maybe) he may say it sometimes when he is relieving himself (how cool is that - I may not being changing his diaper until he is 10 years old!); "potty" is also generally accompanied by the sign as well - so if you are paying attention this one isn't too tough to pick-up on.

"Daddy." Well the "daddy" has been a little rough because the Man is away on a little guys trip for a week. It has been a tough few days for the Boy. He clearly is aware that something is not quite right but he seems to be adapting to the Man not being around. The worst of it was when I ran the vacuum the other night - the Man's job - the Boy was just beside himself looking for his "dah-dee?" Heartbreaking. We will both be glad to have the Man return home - tomorrow night! Hooray!

*Just so we are all clear, this is not a photo of Maggie but this is a very sweet looking puppy!

Photo credit: Threasa Solomon Photography on Flickr

(Day Fiftyeight, Paragraph 52)

Am I an art critic? No. Am I an expert in photography? No. Can I take a decent picture? No. Do I know what I like when I see it? Yes. This photo here to the right is pretty interesting once you stop caring what it may or may not depict. The yellow lights reflecting off the water perfectly mirror the boat*, pole*, and white light in the bottom left corner of the shot. So even though the subject matter is not immediately apparent, there is a symmetry about the photo that is visually pleasing. The lights reflecting off the water create a warm, golden palette. Imagine the image in a large gilt frame at the end of a hallway - it would seem like you could keep walking right into the picture until you reached the water's edge. Lovely.

*If you are curious about what is depicted in this photo, maybe a little detective work in the related set of pictures will help reveal what it is. I'm thinking a bamboo oar on a row boat in India. What do you think it is?

Photo credit: Dainis Matisons on Flickr

Hot-cha-cha-cha (Day Fiftyseven, Paragraph 49, 50 & 51)

I was so hot! I was on such a roll! I was doing so well! What a big shot I thought I was! Writing a paragraph everyday is easy - no problem - heck some days I can even write TWO without even trying! Well I guess I am in a bit of a slump seeing as how I am about a week behind in posts. Which makes this a good time to review how this blog is working for me. Also, we are coming up on the two month anniversary (that makes it sound so important, doesn't it - anniversary!) of the beginning of this whole endeavor.

Is it doing what I want it to do? Am I doing what I want to with it? Am I writing everyday? What can I change to make this better? Obviously, if you are out there, dear reader(s) [HI HOLLY!!!!] please comment on these questions as well as any other thoughts you have about this blog.

For me, for right now, I think that I am letting my life get in the way of the objectives of this blog. I do not have the chance to write the way I really want to (well constructed, fully thought out paragraphs with hopefully no spelling or grammar errors) because I like to write at work and I have to, well, work at work so that is something of an impediment to my writing! I think the format works pretty well - ever changing source material with no limits on how that material is handled. I need to figure out how to write more. Maybe I need to suck it up and sit in front of the computer at night even though I sit in front of the computer all day. Or maybe I need to put a time limit on creating a post. And I could designate a certain time of day to pull off the Flickr shot and write. That could be my designated "mental health" time - like a smoke break for my brain. I need to think about this a bit . . .

Regardless, I do not want this blog to become a chore. I want it to be fresh and fun for me and for anyone who is out there reading it [HI AGAIN HOLLY!]. I also do not want it to become like working out - something that I enjoy when it is a regular part of my life but which also causes stress when I need to figure out how to fit it back in. I don't want this brain exercising to fall by the wayside.

Photo credit: ChrisGoldNY on Flickr

Snap, Crackle, Pop (Day Fiftyone, Paragraphs 47& 48)

There was a "huge" and "crippling" snow storm in my state yesterday. The kind where roads - even major thoroughfares - don't get cleared by the next morning's commute time. The kind where schools are closed for the second day in a row. Pretty serious, right? The snow fall total is under six inches. Pathetic.

Thunderstorms are more par for the course here. And where I live - near the ocean - the storms are dramatic. One side of the street is clear and sunny, but turn to the other side and it looks like night. The lightening lights up the sky like it is day - for just a quick blink-and-you-will-miss-it moment. BOOM. The storms are exciting - you can feel the front come in - one second you are drenched in sweat, struggling to breath in the fetid air and the next you are chilled, breathing in the coolness. BOOM. Electric. BOOM. Rain fills the sky and then the humidity returns . . .


Photo credit: R.P. Piper on Flickr

Old Girl (Day Fortynine, Paragraphs 44, 45 & 46)

Guilty is how I feel most days and annoyed is how I feel most of the other days and nostaligic probably rounds out the group. My old girl Maggie and me have been through so much together. Relationships (good, bad, short, long). Moving (often). Single party girl (whoo hoo). Marriage (still holding!). The "second dog" experiment (failure!). Children (well, child anyway). Always content to be where ever I set her bed down but always a bit of a needler. She was a terror as a puppy but mellowed out as she got older - to the point where I took her to the vet when she was three because I was concerned that she was sick; the vet said, no - she was just three.

She turned 13 this past Valentine's Day. Her black coat is flecked with white. She has a mask of grey around her eyes. Her fatty tumor sways to and fro like a breast augmentation gone awry. She is underfoot when you don't want her around and absent when you wouldn't mind seeing her. She stops on the stairs for a big morning stretch as I'm racing down to get to work. She sheds like crazy. She has weird lumps all over her body. She smells. She won't let me trim her nails. She does not cuddle. She behaves like a cat - affection and attention are on her terms only. Her aloofness has increased a thousand-fold in the last few years to the point that I barely am permitted to pet her.

But she is still my dog. She is still my responsibility. She is still my first dog - ever. I will always remember her as a tiny pup with gigantic ears that didn't grow - they are still the same size now as they were when she was bitty. I know she isn't gone but she isn't the same dog now as she was even a few years ago so when I think of her it is with nostalgia. Maggie will always hold a special place in my heart. My first dog. I will always love her.

Photo credit: tedmurphy on Flickr

Learn Something New Everyday (Day Fortyseven, Paragraphs 42 & 43)

Cool - an engine that looks like a flower! Woohoo - what the heck am I going to write about that. Turns out, though, that the caption to today's photo on Flickr was like a mini-lesson on the engine. I just thought it was cool looking. But it is more than just pretty. It is Innovation and Invention realized.

The engine was designed to be lighter thereby making planes faster. This engine was in the Sopwith F.1 Camel , the plane of everyone's favorite World War One flying ace - SNOOPY! Of course, Snoopy's plane was really his dog house, but no one really cared. Believing in Snoopy's imagined adventures is a much stronger instinct than shooting them down.* Imagination is where Innovation and Invention are born (maybe Necessity is the other parent in that equation?). Do we (that is a collective "we" as humans) do enough to encourage Imagination? I say, "No, we don't." Do we do enough to encourage Innovation and Invention? I say, "No, we don't." Do we stifle our natural inclination to let imaginations soar?* I say, "Yes. Yes, we do." Even if you are too jaded to let your own mind go, open yourself up to someone else's inner Snoopy - let him fly or at the very least, don't try to ground him. You never know what you might learn.

* Pun: optional

Photo credit: cliff1066 on Flickr

(Day Fortysix, Paragraphs 40 & 41)

I opened the Flickr page and started crying. Most of the nonsense on Flickr makes me roll my eyes, not dab at them madly with a tissue. Both the strength of this image and the surprise of something so moving was a shock. We've all witnessed a scene in a public park where the pigeons are swarming, clucking, flapping, vying for position near the food - so much chaos. This image captures that chaos, yet there is a stillness here too. As if the birds are lined up, waiting their turns. As if they have been invited to join this man for lunch and they know they will get some so long as they are patient. As intent as this man seems in eating his lunch, he doesn't look like he minds sharing. Even if he is sharing with pigeons.

I have never been a big fan of pigeons - regardless of how patient they are. I have become more tolerant of pigeons largely because of Mo Willems. I haven't read all of his books, but he has written about the pigeon going to bed, driving the bus, having feelings, and a whole host of other things - including hot dogs. I do not think, though, that he has answered this question: Do pigeons eat bananas?

Photo credit: pedrosimoes7 on Flickr

Drained (Day Thirtynine, Paragraph 39)

I don't really feel like I need to write more than one word to describe how I've been feeling lately: drained. I am worn out. I need some time to myself. I need to feel some more financial and job security (not gonna happen). I. I. I. I. I. Yes, this time it is all about me. Or what is left. I go through the motions every day. My favorite time of the day lately is when I get to knit for an hour or so at night while my husband snores on the couch. Other than the shower and my commute, that is the only time I really have to myself. I'm not sure what to do. I don't have many girlfriends. My primary hobby is shopping and like everyone else, I really can't indulge. A new knitting store is opening in my town and the owner is doing an open evening for coffee and knitting. I should try to do that sometimes. But it is difficult to do something that intentionally takes me away from the Boy. I will figure out the balance eventually. But for now, I feel like a raisin that wishes it was still a grape.

Photo credit: weexpectedthis on Flickr

The Devil Is Among Us (Day Thirtynine, Paragraph 38)

We have, as my husband so perfectly expressed last night, worked very hard to create an "Elmo-free" environment* for our son.

Well, in yesterday's mail, addressed to the Boy was a talking Valentine's card** from his Granny featuring none other than . . . Elmo. We weren't too concerned: the Boy had never been exposed to Elmo before so this "blip" wouldn't have much impact on his delicate psyche, right? Upon seeing the fuzzy red creature and hearing that helium-filled voice the Boy exclaimed, "MELMO!" as if they were old friends. We parents were stunned - stopped dead in our tracks. How had this red devil infused himself into our sweet boy's brain? How could this be? We were so careful.

Getting ready for bed, I decided to do a little test. Maybe the "MELMO" outburst was a fluke - like a little Myna bird mimicking what it hears. I held up a clean diaper which is obnoxiously tattooed with depictions of our furry Satan. "Who is this?" I asked, teeth gritted. "MELMO, MELMO, MELMO, MELMO!" came the enthusiastic response.***

We have officially entered the Eighth Circle of Hell.

*I am not counting licensed character diapers. Sensitive skin has prevented us from using diapers that do NOT depict our nemesis (and his friends) in some form.

** And seriously, U.S. Postal Service - what was the deal with EVERY Valentine card from grandparents arriving at our house POSTAGE DUE.

*** Investigation into the source of this foul affliction is ongoing.

Admission: this post is not within the usual format of this blog but the story was too good not to share and besides, I behind a day and need to make up the deficit somehow!

(Day Thirtyseven, Paragraph 37)

I haven't been on an airplane since January 2006. Airplanes have a distinctive smell that I can recall in my minds nose. The windows have a particular feel as does the upholstery of the seats and the nap of the covers on those teeny-tiny pillows (do they even have those on planes anymore? do they cost an extra $900?). None of these things are very glamorous but they are all associated - for me anyway - with going on vacation. And I haven't been on vacation since January 2006. Maybe that isn't so crazy but seriously - three years is a long time to not go anywhere for more than an over-night (once to D.C. for a concert and once to Virginia for a wedding - both more than two years ago). Part of it is money. Part of it is the Boy and not wanting to be away from him. Part of it is hoarding vacation time for a hopeful second baby maternity leave. My husband is supposed to go away for a few days next month on a guy's trip and I can tell you that I am insanely jealous but I'm just not ready yet.

Photo credit: bonus1up on Flickr