Well well...

I scratched the surface, and there was LESS and MORE than meets the eye.

A dichotomy. And the negative outweighs the positive, unfortunately.

However, I did get some very yummy margaritas out of the ordeal.

In the end, however, it wasn't worth my time. I had to stay up extra late to finish my paper.

But you never know unless you try.

More favorite words

After choosing "froishe" as my new favorite word this week, I got to thinking about all of the other words I've come to know and love over the years. Here are a few:

Breadth - to me, this is such a soft, whispery yet expansive word.

Milquetoast - I'm a pushover for this word. Really, any word that has "toast" in it wins my favor. Throw in a word that sounds like milk, and I'm toast.

Requiem - I like it because it sounds quiet, easy and tranquil...but it isn't.

Jiffy - because it sounds exactly like what it means.

Serendipity - what a great word! It sounds like a magical made-up place where children (and adults) get to play all day, the candy shelves are always stocked, and no bedtime. The fact that it means a surprising happy occurance makes sense.

Spanikopita - the name of a greek ship? Nope - just a tasty feta cheese/spinach appetizer. Delicious. I like how crisp the word is also - very direct.

Panache - French in it's origin, it has no English meaning. When I hear it or see it, I think of white, starched shirts, cufflinks, a smoking jacket and beignets w/jam. Old-school style, baby.

Verisimilitude - a complicated way to say "similar" or "like"...which I like.

Cupcake - no explanation needed.

Tchotchkes - I enjoy the "tch" repetition, and the meaning...trinkets. This girl likes trinkets.

Scootch - we said this a lot growing up. It means to move, scoot, slide, make way. Scootch over, man!

FROISHE

My new favorite word.

It was a recent "word verification".

Definition? Working on it.

Clown Dog

Oliver is such a silly boy.

The spaz got himself wrapped up in a blanket on the couch. I heard growling, and this is what I found:

Detanglement

A few things...

First, a shameless plug for the Match Me Up blog.

Go here for the latest dating adventure, in all it's hairy glory. This blog is morphing into something bigger than I expected, better even, and the new heights I hope it to reach seem within my grasp. Time will tell - so read it while it's free. :-)

I am having those restless nights again - something is pressing on my psyche which permeates my REM cycle and doesn't allow me the needed Z's for next-day optimization. I had the weirdest dreams - one was a mix of my dog and a scene from the latest installment of The Real Housewives of New York (talk about a mash gone bad). Maybe I'll post that sometime...it's too fresh and raw to see in print just yet.

I had a meeting today with a fellow writer/creative/comic lover, and plans are in the works for great things. I do enjoy getting to know new people who inspire, encourage, and see the world from similar points of view. Makes the daily grind not so grounding.

Got back to the office, caught up on emails, reached out to a few contacts, and missed a meeting. No biggee, I didn't need to be there and I spent the time in a much better way.

The week ahead is jam packed with meetings, both at work and for outside endeavors. Busy weeks equal faster workdays, which equal sooner weekends. I like.

I get to hang out with my new neighbor on Wednesday night, at a little "get ta know ya" courtesy of my friend Candace. I'm really looking forward to it - I've met him in passing, had quick but very informative conversation, and I know I've only scraped the surface. More than ready to dig in.

I've decided to really delve into this kickboxing "kick" I'm on now. Two classes a week, with a pilates thrown in for good measure every other week, on top of my spinning, swimming and running prep for the late-summer tri should be sufficient for getting in fighting form. Or it just may kill me.

Stay tuned....

Nourishment, weekend playlist

This was dinner last night.

I'm calling it PastoWeen, because of the black and orange pasta. It was spooky delicious.

One casualty, though. When I went to retrieve the skewered veggies from the oven, I burned my left hand on the roof of the oven. I did the same thing back in February, but with my right hand. I obviously don't have an OvGlove, but should.

My days as a hand model are officially over.

Following is my weekend playlist (thus far):

"Chords To Live By" - B&E
"Where Is The Love" - Black Eyed Peas
"DC Comics and Chocolate Milkshakes" - Art Brut
"Forcefield" - Beck
"Black Hearted Love" - PJ Harvey
"Arms To Wings" - Tinhorn
"When You Were Mine" - The Church
"Soda Jerk" - Buffalo Tom
"Trancendental Suicide" - Soundtrack Of Our Lives
"Not Crying" - Flight Of The Conchords

Getting Lucky

I got lucky this morning.

It was so gratifying. I thought I might get it last night. At least I got it this morning. Getting lucky on a Saturday morning makes for a good start to the weekend!

I don't know what's better, getting lucky in the morning, or after a long day at work, or on the weekend. I guess I shouldn't be so picky - I should be glad to get lucky at all!!

When I get lucky, there's always a surprising element to it. Something fresh, new, and usually full of many things that I needed but didn't know it.

And the satisfaction you feel. Relief. Pure pleasure. With every glance, you just get lost in the moment.

It took over two hours to get through today. Two hours of incredible fun - started in bed, then moved to the couch, then after a long drink of water (I was parched!) ended up finishing at the kitchen table.

Getting lucky is something I look forward to daily, but it usually only happens once or twice a month. And even though I know this, I still open my eyes every morning with a hopeful smile and think, "Will I be getting lucky today?"

I know, a month is a long time to go between getting lucky, but once you get it, you realize it's worth the wait.



Wait.





You do know what I'm talking about, don't you?






Oh. Sorry.





I guess I need to be more specific.






And use the proper spelling.





Let me start over........


I got Lucky this morning.

Good start

It's a gorgeous day.

Got up early and went to the Soulard market to pick up some fruits and veggies. Then went cycling in my lovely city. Hardly a soul in sight - I guess St. Louis is the city that sleeps.

On the menu for dinner tonight, courtesy of said market:

-Black squidink linguine & tomato basil pepper linguine tossed in virgin olive oil and fresh dill

-grilled zucchini, yellow squash, eggplant and green onions marinated in white wine and spices

-dessert: a fruit mix of black grapes, watermelon and strawberries with rosemary bread and organic lemon goat cheese from last week (so good - tastes like lemon cheesecake).

I took some pics on my way home from the market and during my bike ride...here are a few.

Soulard Market

Herbs!

Buy a duck!

Downtown from a distance

On Market Street, heart of downtown...

Do some of this today!

Oh yeah, and this...

Through The Walls We Hear The City Groan

A random bullet was found by my neighbors in their loft the other day.

They came home at 8 p.m. from grocery shopping on a weeknight, and when Dan sat down at his desk to get on the computer, he noticed a bullet sitting next to his mousepad.

911 - how can I help you?

According to the police, the shot was fired from an abandoned building two blocks away. A vacant lot separates our building from that building, so there's nothing standing in the way of any shots that may be fired.

Upon further inspection of Dan's loft, police determined that the bullet had entered the middle window, ricocheted off of his spare bedroom sliding-door bracket (which is warped now), and landed on his desk.

I chose my loft for the solitude, the unfettered view of the skyline, the authenticity of it's buildout (original floors, exposed brick, huge windows), the secure dog walking area, and the in-ground pool.

I like city living. I like country living, too. I'm from a small town, and while I'm a city gal now, given the opportunity I would embrace small-town living again with open arms. Those who know me well know that I am supremely flexible when it comes to where I live.

However, my safety is not flexible.

My loft faces a different view, and I have no doubt that it would be near impossible to aim a bullet into my living space. That makes me feel better.

But, it still gives me shivers to think about what could have happened had my neighbor not been out shopping. That stray bullet might have hit a different target, and the outcome might have been less outrageous and incredibly devastating.

But I have to say....I love my city.

Bullet the blue sky.

Weiner

This one's for you, E.

Happy Friday.

Your Scene Sucks

This is a great website:

http://www.yourscenesucks.com/

I clicked on a few, and certain people immediately came to mind.

Originality is few and far between.

Ahhhhh...

In an earlier post I talked about my love of Beck's album Sea Changes.

My friend Jeff saw the post, and forwarded mp3's of remakes of the songs from the album done by Beck with the Flaming Lips, and other groovy songs I hadn't heard of.

I am so digging these new tunes. Thanks again, Jeff.

It's been a great day overall - had some good meetings with potential clients, took Oliver on a long walk, went to kickboxing, played with Oliver, caught up with friends, and I'm now getting set to turn in. I've cranked open all of my windows to let in the cool Spring breeze, and have keyed up the Beck/FL songs to lull me into a sweet sleep.

Good day. Good friends. Good times. Good night.

Kickmyass Boxing

I have decided to add kickboxing to my sprint triathlon training regime. Tonight was my first night.

I used to kickbox, years and years ago. I'd forgotten what a fantastic workout it is. It's good to switch up exercises and surprise your muscles - they get bored sometimes.

If my muscles were ever bored, they're not bored anymore.

I couldn't really walk down the stairs after class. Glad my loft has an elevator, or I might have had to sleep in the lobby.

Thanks to my friends Margaret and Keyvan - they are regulars and encouraged me to get back on the horse. I think I'll ride awhile.

And maybe, if I get into as good of shape as the attached photo, I'll become someone's Million Dollar Baby and earn the nickname Mo Cuishle. :-)

Ouch.

Yuck...

Oh my gosh. THE most sour grapes. Ever.

Yet I kept eating them, one after another, hoping for a good one.

Tenacity will be my downfall.

Justice? Nah, justice is for suckers...

I saw the founder of a former now-defunct charity riding around in his Porsche on Sunday morning.

I used to volunteer for this charity, and it raised money to help fund the fight against breast cancer. I believed in the cause, but not so much for some of the people who were involved. To be clear, most people who were involved were down for the cause, worked hard, had fun, but kept their hands to themselves. These were the people that made me excited to volunteer.

As for the the other folks involved, let's just say that it was like being in high school all over again - lewd behavior, affairs galore, indiscretions, and the founder was the skankiest perpetrator of all.

I stuck with it as long as I could, until the nastiness started to wear on me and I had to bow out. It was beginning to become an organization that I didn't want to be affiliated with, which made me sad because of all of the money they raised and good they did.

So, the founder came under fire in 2007 for a large amount of money (cash, folks, not checks) that went missing from one of the two large events they hosted yearly. He and one other person were in charge of counting this pile of cash in his kitchen, and somehow it went missing.

Somehow. Hmmmm. Wonder what happened?

Yeah, I wonder. Word was that the charity was "funding" his lifestyle, as was a certain married woman who was on the board.

After all was said and done, the charity disbanded, and the women that could have been helped by the funds raised by this group are the ones suffering.

And in the end, this douchebag gets to ride around town in his Porsche, continue to practice law, and have the time of his life.

I wished him a flat.

Happy Birthday Mom!

My mom, Diane Whiting, was born 65 years ago today. Wow!!!

When I look at her age written out like that, it seems so darn old. But age is a state of mind, and in my mom's case, she's very young at heart. And looks it, too.

Here are some fun facts about Diane I bet you didn't know:

- My mom likes circus peanuts and licorice. She will admit to the licorice, but not to the circus peanuts, so I'm outing her right here and now.

- My mom treats her belongings very well - everything she has looks brand new.

- My mom is a huge fan of Barry Manilow, and even took me and my brother to his concert when we were gradeschoolers. We all rocked out to Copacobana, the actual year it was a hit (I think). In fact, she was so high on Barry, she bought a new car the next day.

- My mom taught 1st and 2nd grade for a kajillion years (33 to be exact), and whenever one of her former students sees her, they want to hug her. Yup - she was that loved.

- My mom never let us drink Kool-aid, for which I'm thankful (too much sugar). However, we always had every flavor of pop in the house, for which I'm also thankful. Because Root Beer floats rock!

- My mom is a hottie - always has been, and always will be. When she wears her boot-cut, low-waist distressed jeans, she can pass for a 16-yr old cheerleader from behind. Way.

- My mom and I have the best time once we're in the dressing room - we laugh like there's no tomorrow.

- My mom always made me wear a hat, gloves, scarf, and boots, which was unfashionable and sucked at the time, but this is probably why I don't suffer from frostbite anywhere on my body today.

- My mom is good in the kitchen. I love her cooking. I will never get enough of her spaghetti, chicken casserole, grilled cheese, pizza burgers, stove-top pudding, or banana bread. I would be happy living off of these six dishes for the rest of my life, but she would need to make them for me, because it's not the same when I make them myself.

- My mom paid for my teeth, boobs, and elopement/honeymoon. The teeth and boobs are holding up quite well, and although I'm divorced, my first trip to Vegas was unforgettable. Thanks again, Mom!

- My mom loves Walmart. Which is perfect, because she was presented with an offical Walmart vest as part of her winning Teacher of the Year. We're all still waiting for the official word that she's been recruited as a greeter.

- My mom can bail out a window well with the best of 'em.

- My mom has the prettiest hands. She should've been a hand model.

- My mom used to wash my hair when I was little, and I HATED it. So to let me know she was almost finished, she would turn the cold water on for a second and that made it all better.

- My mom used to let me clean out her jewelry box for money - that was always such a fun time.

- My mom liked Juicy Fruit gum when we were growing up, so every time I smell it I think of her, the big green Buick and going on road trips to Bismarck for back-to-school shopping. Good times!!!

And my favorite fun fact...

- My mom NEVER refused a trip to Taco Johns. Ever. What a mom!!! :-)

Bliss

I just spent the last hour listening to Beck's "Sea Change" album from '02.

Wow.

I'd forgotten how lovely it is.

I remember when I first heard it - it was a cool autumn evening in 2002, and I was the passenger in a dark green Acura Legend, on a clandestine mission to the Venice Cafe. I was amazed when he told me it was Beck's new CD we were listening to, because it was so austere and melancholy. But it did the trick, and put me in a very open and receptive mood.

I believe that for the next three years that was my subliminal soundtrack. I used to wish I'd never heard it, or at least on that evening.

I Guess I'm Doing Fine now, because my Lonely Tears have subsided and I'm no longer a Lost Cause. At the End Of The Day, I realized it's All In Your Mind.

I've since made new memories to accompany this album.

Toys!!

The boy and his toys.

See, he has eyes.

Try, Tri again...

I have been doing well on my training the last month, and am looking down the road for a good, light race in which to partake.

I have found two that are major contenders - the first is the Big Shark tri, 7/19 in New Town (St. Charles). It's a flat course, and the swim in the man-made lake should be very enjoyable and drama-free.

The second one is the Tiger Tri in Republic MO, 8/15. Pool swim (sweet).

There are advantages for each one.

The Big Shark race is close to home, and my friends/family would be able to cheer me on. It's super flat, and I like this because I hate hills and love speed. The biggest drawback is that it's only 13 weeks away...a little too soon.

The Tiger race is in it's 3rd year, so no surprises, and a pool swim. I am not the best swimmer - my biggest issue is remembering to breathe correctly. Plus, this gives me another 17 weeks to train.

I'm thinking Tiger. Yup.

New Do's

Oliver got a trim at home, and he was very good about sitting still while his momma clipped away. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. I know, it looks like he has NO eyes, but I swear I didn't poke them out with the clippers. He's just squinting because of the flash...

Oh, and he doesn't like his picture taken, if you can't tell by his tongue sticking out...

Oh yeah, the Nazi's....

Idiotsticks.

The National Socialists Movement (Neo-Nazi's) managed to rally under the arch this Saturday. They were allowed the platform from 2-4, but ran away from the rain around 3:00.

I skipped it - thought better than to give any of my time to witness such stupidity.

I napped instead.

Weekend Playlist 4/17/09

Rainy mood music for a rainy, moody weekend. Add a dash of To The Best Of Our Knowledge, and it was a weekend of aural delights.

"The Endless Endings" - Clem Snide
"The Book Of Love" - The Magnetic Fields
"Black Balloon" - The Kills
"Low Is A Height" - Great Northern
"Threads" - Portishead
"Bury Me Deep" and "Catacombs" - Poi Dog Pondering
"Sometime Around Midnight" - Airborne Toxic Event
"Let's Get Lost" - Elliott Smith
"Keep It Clean" - Camera Obscura
Toward the Within (Album) - Dead Can Dance

Twilight sucked

Seriously. I just lost 60 minutes of my life (I ended up fast forwarding towards the end).

Pure schlock.

Robert Pattinson is eye candy, and a decent actor. Kristen Stewart is her typical wet-towel self, and the writing was soooo bad. As was the plot.

Are the books this shitty also?

If this is what tween/adolescent girls are reading, I fear for our country's future.

Well, I fear for it anyway, but this just adds to the horror.

Mini Me

One of these is not like the other one....

Same dog? NO!!!!! Sisters? Possibly....stay tuned.

Too Extreme

This Saturday the grounds below the Arch will be overrun with members of the neo-Nazi National Socialist Movement. They're holding a rally. Oh. Joy.

I am planning on taking some photos so I can document this retched event, and I'm hoping I don't recognize anyone who's participating. It makes me sick that this group that supports the twisted ideals of a psycho-extremist dictator who was responsible for millions of murders was ever founded, gained any momentum, and holds even the least bit of power.

That said, I'm hopeful that no violence breaks out against them, because if anything is done to physically harm these idiots or their belongings, it will only add fuel to their fire. And make us just as despicable as them. Like it or not, they have the right to gather, as do we who have the opposite viewpoints. But that doesn't mean we can't protest their existence, and tell them to eff off.

In related news, I was catching up on news this morning, I read that two of Hitler's paintings are being auctioned off. Apparently his art fetches a pretty price. It's obvious what kind of people would want to own art created by Hitler. And I say, if they want to spend their money in that way, fine. But this got me thinking. Apparently, he was a creative type, and wanted to be an artist, even applying to the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts. Had he been accepted, and gone down the path of creation rather than decimation, what more of a wonderful world could this be? Think of how many people would be living today, who would have had families, and they would have had families? In all of those soldiers, countrymen, and prisoners from around the world who lost their lives because of this man, there may have been a cure for cancer, a better president, and leader who brought the world together rather than tore it apart. Our medical advances, technological advances, even environmental advances may have propelled us to such great heights, had Hitler stuck with painting.

When I get to thinking like this, I would give just about anything for a look back in time a la Clarence (It's A Wonderful Life) if Hitler had never been born.

Heard at Chi Sushi/Saki Bar...

"You can have it for $5, but it's not a foot long..."

"It smells like bacon in here"

"I'm basically Roldy at work..."

"Actually, I'm from the Phillipines, but in St. Louis all Asians are Chinese"

"I just had a run in with the bike cops"

"Is it eat with your right hand, and wipe with your left, or the other way around? Maybe I should wash my hands...."

Biz Cards

This guy reminds me of Joe Pesci. Watch the whole thing, the best part is towards the end.

Recollections Pt 2

I chatted with a good friend on the way home from work today. I grew up with her, and we got to talking about the shenanigans we got into during our youth.

Then I started to think about some of my favorite memories from growing up. Here are a few:

1. My aunt Deb was only 12 years older than my brother and I, and used to babysit us alot. She would play this "game" with us, which would bring us to giggles, but if you did this to a kid now, it might be considered torture. She would put one of us in a pillowcase, drag us around the house, up and down stairs, and ask us what room we were in. If we answered wrong, the dragging would continue. It was fun! And back then, teachers didn't question where bruises came from, so no worries.


2. I used to dress up in my grandma's Carol Burnett outfits (chiffon sleeves, pastel colors, 60's dresses), put on pairs of her long gloves, maybe a rain scarf (the plastic kind that tied under your chin), don some orange lipstick, and play fashion show. I looked a little like this.


3. We used to get on our bikes at sunrise, ride all over town, only coming home to eat, and would return just before dark so we could play kick the can. It was such an easy, freedom filled childhood, I feel sorry for kids these days. Not a care in the world.


4. My aunt Donna would take my brother and I to A&W for fries and root beer. There's nothing better than an A&W root beer poured from a tap directly at the restaurant. So good.

5. There used to be a show on NBC in 1987 about these orphan girls called "Rags To Riches". One night, my brother and I were sitting at the counter in the kitchen watching my mom make cookies and the show came on. The orphan girls started singing, "Rockin' Robin", and my mom started to sing and dance along with the tv. It was great! She knew all the words, and boy can my mom sing. My brother and I got the biggest kick out of that. I'll remember that always.

6. My uncle Don used to give all of the kids haircuts when we were toddlers. We would take turns sitting on a high kitchen stool in my grandparents driveway. I think that would be a funny sight to see today, a bunch of kids taking turns sitting on a stool in the driveway, but back then it was a normal thing to do.

7. I used to stay at my cousin Steph's house for sleep-overs, and her mom let us build the most amazing forts, both upstairs in the living room and also in the basement. We're talking rooms, hallways, every blanket, cushion, tv tray and crate in the house was used. We would sleep there also, and tell ghost stories. This would freak Steph's brother Troy out, and he would run upstairs crying and tell his parents we were mean. I guess we were mean. But it was fun.

Death Wish?

At the Berlin Zoo, a woman climbed the fence and jumped into the polar bear habitat...

...during feeding time.

Not the best time of day to make friends with a bear...

Good Choice, Bret

Mwahahahahahaha!

Just finished watching the Rock of Love Bus finale.

Totally called it. Too easy.

Bret picked Taya. Der. Why? In a few words:

1. Penthouse Pet of the Year

2. "Feature Dancer" a.k.a. fancy stripper

3. Huge (ahem) "Personalities"

Never mind that she dresses like someone from Dynasty in the late '70's. She's really got that Crystal Gale look going.

They are perfect for each other. She's looking to ride the fame bus (even if it is the bus of a broken down hoser like Bret) and he's happy with a Pet.

What cracked me up the most was that Bret pulls the ring box out mid-decision, like he's really going to propose. Riiiiiight.

What was even better was when he told Taya "I love you 99%, but there's that 1% that's makin' me hold back". Hahahahahahaha. Would that 1% be making an actual commitment?

I'm really looking forward to Rock of Love Trolley Car. Or better yet, Trollop Car. More accurate, wouldn't ya say?

It was a good season. Entertaining. Especially during the colder months.

Daisy of Love? Not sure that's going to hold my attention. Since the weather is warmer, my tv time will be limited. Fine by me.

New Resolution

I've never been one to start my resolutions on January 1st. I believe you can begin them when the mood strikes.

The mood is striking me right now.

I'm a pretty positive person. Look on the bright side, wake up with a smile, all that jazz. But lately, I've let other's moods really get to me - I've had a difficult time separating myself from their issues, and hold on to them instead.

This is not good.

So, on this day, April 12th 2009, I resolve to remain in a positive frame of mind when those around me are:

pissy
smarmy
grouchy
mean
combative
foul
dickish (yes, it's a word...)
grumpy
crabby
complaining
peevish
irritable
petulant
snappish
ill-tempered
cantakerous and
downright nasty

I refuse to adopt a bad mood, because 99% of the crappy or annoying stuff that happens in life is out of my control.

I refuse to let other's moods affect me in a negative way.

From now on, their sh*t is not gonna stick.

Yeah!

So Much For Best Laid Plans...

I went to bed last night early, like Old Lady early. I was under the covers by 9:30, anticipating a jam-packed day of Easter fun.

A car alarm went off twice last night, right under my window, around midnight and 2:00. For some reason, the second time I thought it was mine. So I ran (yes, literally ran) down the hallway, into the living room and cracked my lower leg on the coffee table.

Who put that there?

Then my damn dog was up at 3:00 with that "Pee time" energy he usually reserves for 4:30. I told him to cool it, and slept until 5:00, at which time he was crossing his legs and doing the pee dance, so I took him out.

I then ended up staying up for awhile, messed around on the computer, got sleepy, and went back to bed.

My brother called and woke me up at 10:00 - we have plans to meet at the boat for Easter buffet. Yum!

I shook off sleep, hopped in the shower, puttered around, and started to dry my hair.

I got my bangs done. That's about it. The dryer quit. I don't think it overheated, as there is no firey, charred smell.

I have really long, thick hair. It's awesome when it's dry. Not so much wet.

I called a neighbor to see if I could borrow her dryer. Left a message. Waiting to hear back.

My brother is on the way to pick up Grams in St. Chuck for the boat excursion. I have towel dried my hair, but it still looks way too retarded for a social event, let alone Easter w/Grams.

Debating on whether to just twist up the wet part, hang my head out of the car window and let it air dry on the way to St. Chuck, or crawl back under the covers.

On this day, I have to ask myself........

What would Jesus do?

Safety In The Workplace - unrated

It's like a 1970's horror movie....

Today....

...is shaping up to be an awesome day.

First, the weather is unbelievably nice. Blue skies, warm, slight breeze. Perfect Spring day.

Second, I got a lot of much-needed sleep last night, and just had a kick-ass workout. I'm so juiced that I am going to pump up the Fuji and take it out to the park today.

Third, I was just awarded a ton of freelance work, which should keep me very busy for the next few weeks (in my spare time).

Additionally, my brother let me know that we are meeting at the "boat" tomorrow for Easter Brunch, so I get to hang with my family. Family time is always fun, but when you include a buffet with a chocolate fountain, well, need I say more?

And finally, someone I know who's endured mucho in-vitro treatments the last 6 years trying to conceive with her husband has just announced that she's knocked up. The old-fashioned way. Very nice. And how special, that when you're not trying and have about given up hope, you get a gift like this.

Good day.

Gruesome

I received a treat today from a friend. He went to Crown Candy Kitchen this morning, stood in line, and purchased goodies.

This one was for me:


I took the dog on a walk, and came back to find this carnage:


My Donald Duck was the victim of a chew-by.

I Need This

Someone posted this picture on the Fox2 website. It's my favorite pizza, Taco Joe pizza, from Happy Joes.

I need this. Now.

Much Effort!

Weird and hilarious Japanese commercial for SoyJoy.

Is the gal trying to sit or take a sh*t?

You decide.

Small Town Recollections

To quote Mellencamp:

"Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And that's prob'ly where they'll bury me"

I had the weirdest dream last night. Well, it was more like a night memory than dream, really, because I was back in high school in the small town I grew up in. A smattering of recollections of situations that obviously were burned enough in my psyche to reappear when I'm dreaming.

Growing up in a small town, we made our own weird fun. Taking into account it snowed 9 months out of the year, we were resourceful. And goofy. And a bit reckless.

Following are just a few of the insane things we did to amuse ourselves:

1. My friend had a 1971 brown Gran Torino, nicknamed The Turd. It was this exhaust-belching bucket of pure American steel, smelled of Marlboros and Lauren perfume, and I'm pretty sure it didn't come with seatbelts. One foggy night, after a party in an even smaller town out in the sticks, we drove 90 mph to get back to town to make our curfews. Thinking back, we were pretty lucky we made it, having dodged kamikaze deer and random roadkill in dense fog.

The Turd


2. My friend Nicole was very uptight, and we teased her about this on a regular basis. One night, to prove us all wrong, she went bananas and let her freak flag fly. She jumped out of the car on main street (yes, we cruised main), and laid on the dividing line and sang "When Doves Cry" while cars sped past on either side of her, honking at the crazy girl. After that, she climbed a power line almost to the top, smack in the middle of town. Then, to top it off, she got in the hot jocks car and cruised one lap of main without pants. She was never teased again.

Not Nicole, but it's pretty close


3. No matter how cold it was (well, anything below -20 windchill was our limit) we never turned away an outdoor party. These were usually held on someone's land, and there always seemed to be a fire going next to a kwanset hut. We called these Kwanset Hut parties. Clever, I know. We would stand around shivering, sipping our beers through chattering teeth and numb lips, having a grand ol' time.

Kwanset Hut


4. We were so intent on getting our party on, we would cross the border to Wibaux, Montana where there was this country bar who didn't check ID's. We would let the cowboys buy us PBR and dance with them to the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band's "Fishin In The Dark". I was never into country music, but I still remember all of the lyrics to this day. And Cowboys are gentlemen.

The Whole Kit and Caboodle

There is a great article in Ad Age this week. It details out how a couple of UK-based ad agencies (London Advertising, Creative Orchestra) are cutting straight through to clients with true transparency, little to no overhead, and a creative "direct buy" approach.

London Advertising has a production cost calculator on their site for potential clients to add up the costs of the services they need.

Orchestra considers themselves an "outsource creative department" who incubates talent. Great description.

Smaller, virtual pop-shops are springing up around St. Louis, partly due to recent layoffs and that darn necessity of a paycheck, and partly because taking ownership of your destiny feels too damn good to pass up.

What's appealing is that no admin gets between the creative aspect and relationship. There's such a purity to this concept, which is something that's lacking in most small and large agency workings.

It's like being "master of your domain", in a way.

I've a couple of friends who started virtual shops are they're a-popping. It will be fun to see how far they can take it and remain 100% true to their vision. I have a feeling they'll go far.

Listen UP!

CONCERT ALERT
---------------------
Who: Gogol Bordello
When: 7/23
Where: The Pageant
Cost: $23

NEW MUSIC
Thermals


Gliss (new song from new album, not their music video...just listen)

Constricted

Where did the perks go? Where are the decent salaries hiding?

Better question - how did fairness get left by the wayside, thumbing to hitch a ride with dignity on the road to despair?

All I'm hearing lately is how most companies are dialing back on their standard practices when it comes to reimbursement and fair wages, in the end essentially screwing over their workforce.

Numerous friends and colleagues are facing substandard "offers" from potential employers. The general excuse is, "We're lucky to have the funds to hire."

I think this is a crock. And this crock has led 1/4 of the nation to be "under-employed".

Yes, the economy sucks. And yes, consumer spend is down. And, oh yeah, outsourcing is all too rampant. Ah, and lest we forget, we're all a dime a dozen.

Still, do companies not value their employees any longer? Or wish to entice them to stick around for the long haul? Or give them incentive to kick some ass and take names?

Case in point - my friend was just hired as a salesman for an educational software company. He was told that:

- he'd have to supply his own laptop
- he would need to pay for his mobile usage
- he would receive no mileage reimbursement
- his base salary totals about $10.50/hr
- commission would only be paid a month after the customer's paid in full
- he has to build up an entire new book of business with no draw or guaranteed commissions while getting up to speed

So what exactly is the incentive to get him to stay? So that he can reap the benefits of his sales four to six months after he made the sale?

Or maybe to pony up the cash for gas so he can drive all over East Egypt (his territory is everything east of Springfield Missouri and south of Champaign IL)?

No, wait, could it be to increase his mobile plan to "unlimited" and pay an extra $50/month?

Education sales and printing has pretty much been his entire career. He is, in a word, stuck.

How can his employer expect him to rally every day, knowing that he's fast losing the battle to stay afloat? He's got a family to feed, to provide for.

I feel somewhat fortunate being in the advertising business, because in my experience, St. Louis agencies are competitive when it comes to wages. Not so much in other industries, it seems.

I think that when the dust settles, whether it's in the next year or five years from now, these companies that are expecting to get stellar employees for a song will be sorely out of tune. Hell, if karma has anything to do with it, they may be silenced altogether.

Thanks Jeff

Kind of a crap day. Trying to shake it off. I know tomorrow will be better.

On the positive side, my brother has been an endless well of support for me, and that means a lot. Thanks, Jeff.

Jeff is a rock in our family, is really an endless well of support for most of us, and he'll soon be getting what he worked so hard for these last, oh, 30 years. Granted, he didn't know when he was in 1st grade exactly what he wanted to be when he grew up, but he worked his little butt off anyway.

And it's all paying off.

He's an orthopedic surgeon, one of the best, and has accepted a dream job with a local university/hospital. Actually, they've wanted him for years, and held off hiring anyone for this open position until he was available. You see, he's loved by all.

I'm so happy for him - it's about time he gets to lean way back in his chair, clasp his hands behind his head, and breath that big sigh of "Yesssss".

Fiasco

That is what I'm calling most of Saturday.

Camping was on the agenda, didn't get on the road until 2:30, and with multiple stops to pick up odds and ends, didn't reach the campsite until 4:30.

The wind picked up, making it difficult to keep a fire going. Well, that, and because we didn't use our extensive Boy Scout knowledge to build the fire properly (kindling, good base, etc.). I think we regressed to amateur Cub Scout status in our haste for relaxation.

The dogs were tied up on long leads, and I now have a nice rope-burn anklet due to chaos between a visiting neighbor dog and Oliver getting feisty. And just so you know, if you grate off the top layer of skin over a tattoo, the ink looks very fresh - you could say it even pops.

Made the mistake of giving Oliver a few bites of chicken, which had been marinated in all sorts of yummy spices, oil and vinegar. What dog wouldn't like that, I ask you?

I don't think there's anything more gross than steamy dog vomit in your lap. Well, maybe when it dries and is cold and sticky. Yeah, that might be the worst.

LET'S BREAK IT DOWN!

- 110 minutes: Drive time to campsite (it was in Babler, which is a suburb of St. Louis)

- 45 minutes: Campsite set up, including camp/cook fire

- 20 minutes: Actual relaxation time (eating, enjoying said fire)

CONCLUSION:
A pact was made that little, pampered feisty dogs are no longer allowed on any overnight camping trips, and if anyone feels the need for dining in nature without a sleepover, Forest Park is the furthest destination allowed.

The Shape Of Things

The title of this post fits my mood.

As far as rating things in my life, all areas are now "taking shape". I used to measure moods, ideas, situations, relationships, etc. on a numerics level (1 to 10). I now visualize all things in my life as shapes.

Some of them fall into squares/blocks, as they are contained, ridgid entities that grow and shrink with time but never lose their original shape (the addition or loss of family).

Others areas of my life (career, training, education, music, artistic aspirations, chaos) are ever-changing, free-floating amoebas that bend, stretch, swoop and bulge with burgeoning ideas, new directions and morphing ideals.

The latest is my friendship shape, or friendshape.

With the loveliness that is Facebook, I have reconnected with some very old and dear friends from my youth, and a few of these connections have brought to the present fond memories of the past. I've reconnected with my friend Jan, who was one of the three gals I palled around with in HS, and I've really enjoyed catching up with her. Not much has changed about her, and I wouldn't have it any other way. She's one of the most vibrant, kind and positive souls on this earth, and the fact that she's held steady over the years, well, the world is a better place for it.

The addition of Jan has added a nice little outward curve to my blob of friendshape. I see that curve, and it makes me happy it's been added.

I recently reconnected with someone else, someone who holds a special place in my past. Yup - the guy who taught me how to drive a stick.

Gals, I know that most of you reading this had a fella in high school who was gracious enough to let you behind his prized wheel, and patiently guided you through the arduous process of operating a stick shift. When to take it up to second, ease up on the clutch, just enough to accelerate and not kill the car. How to pop it into gear, or just let it coast. Maybe they had alterior motives for the lessons, maybe not. Either way, it's something you never forget...the power of operating heavy machinery. Man, what a rush.

I just reconnected with my Stick Shift guy, David. He was an original - in a good way. Couldn't really label him back then, and in my opinion that's rare in HS. He was (still is) very creative, thoughtful, a smartie, positive, open, and just plain nice. He didn't have an ulterior motive (that I recall, anyway). I believe he's one of those good guys who lived in the moment, and probably thought it would be fun.

It was fun. And because he was such a good teacher, I have owned two vehicles that were stick shifts and drove them very well.

He's now entered my friendshape, and I'm glad to see his new niche in the outline.

Really now....

Something major is supposed to go down today concerning a certain loft in a certain downtown area of St. Louis.

There has been much in the way of hijinx of late, and it's almost laughable how out of control things have gotten. I say almost laughable, because some of the hijinx can be considered criminal, and the perpetrator is unpredictable.

I would say this makes for a scary combination. But that's my opinion...and apparently not the opinion of management. And that is sad.

I have a feeling that what is supposed to happen will not, and instead all sorts of crazy will take place.

Good day, lots of writing

It was a really good day. I stated this fact in a variety of ways - I said it out loud, I tweeted, I texted, I Facebooked, and I MySpaced. Now I'm blogging.

It's still a good day. The drive home was treacherous, but on a positive spin I got to catch up on my news. I was greeted at the door with kisses, and took a nice long walk in the rain-soaked neighborhood. Good smells.

I also caught up on my Match blog, http://matchmadein.blogspot.com/. That was fun. It's nice to remember the good times, as well as the bad. Puts life into perspective, and as long as you appreciate the lesson, it was worth it.

Movie Review

I picked up this movie as I'd seen a preview and was intrigued. For some reason, I thought it would be more of a funny love story. Turns out, not so funny. But that's okay.

In a word, it was poetic. Fluid. The music was simple, mostly piano, original and almost comparable to a heartbeat, if a movie can have one. I believe it can.

Ben Kingsley - wow. His hands. His energy. Who would not fall in love with this man?

Penelope Cruz - captivating.

Dennis Hopper - endearing. Handsome, almost.

It's based on a novella by Philip Roth called "The Dying Animal". If the read is half as good as the movie, I'll be thrilled.

This movie has inspired me in ways I wasn't prepared for. Really, I was just in the mood for a light rom-com to lull me to sleep. Maybe I'm slap-happy because the Nyquil has kicked in, or because I'm feeling much better and had an awesome and productive day.

Either way, I can't wait to go to sleep, so that I can wake up tomorrow and start planning.