Not that I've been rooting for him or anything, but this should have happened a long time ago!! He is the one and only reason I went to see Pirates of the Carribean twice. Cute cute cute. :-)

On a more human level (as opposed to Hollywood star level) ... can you imagine being an actor, and whether you cared about it or not, be named People's Sexiest Man Alive, get your photo on the cover and have to share it with the headline "Michael Jackson: New Sex Scandal?"

A few nights ago, I went to a "dinner party." It was at the house of one of my coworkers and included 4 other RN's that work on my shift and their husbands. Not my husband, of course, because it's a social situation and all. I understood this perfectly; he'd had a stressful week at work and didn't want to go spend the evening at some place he'd never been talking to people he'd never met before.

I was expecting a really laid-back evening, because I know the 4 other nurses so well. And it was fairly laid-back. Maybe not as much as I expected, however.

It was at this absolutely beautiful house. The kind of house that has a formal dining and living room. There were candles on the table. And everyone but me drank wine. (Wine!) I don't mind wine, but I have my reasons for not drinking it (none of which involve my current procreative status, thankyouvermuch). I drank orange juice. When everyone toasted at dinner (toasted!), I was the only one without a wine glass.

So although I know half of these other people, I was sort of in a situation that was a little weird for me. More formal than I had been expecting. I felt really out of it when the conversation turned to all the other countries everyone else had visited and lived in. I went to the Bahamas once in high school, but that's about it. And one could hardly call that world travel :) I didn't have anything at all to contribute to the conversation (although I really enjoyed listening to it), which always labels me as "the quiet one." In fact, we never really did converse about much as a group that I COULD contribute to.

I suppose I could mention that I am 28, and the other 8 people were above 45ish. I get along with these nurses VERY well at work and would easily call any of them my friends. At one point, someone mentioned my age and one of the husbands made the not-unexpected comment that he had children that age. It really amazed me how ~15 years difference in age could have that much of an impact in my comfort level with the situation.

Now, I know of 1 person there (maybe 2? :)) that reads this blog and will be reading this entry. I also know that she won't take any of this the wrong way. So when I say "impact in my comfort level," I don't mean necessarily that I was uncomfortable. Just that I was not as comfortable as I thought I would be :) It was proposed at some point during the evening that we do this get-together every 3 months or so, and rotate houses. I think it was also suggested that my house be last :-) I don't have a formal dining room. I doubt my dining room table could even hold 10 people with both leaves in it; and even if it could, I don't have 10 chairs. And cooking for 10 people! OH MY GOD! I don't even cook for myself. And I certainly couldn't make anything as elegant or tasty as what our host made the other night.

Speaking of food, it wasn't only the wine that set me apart from everyone else. I tend to be extremely picky in my food choices. So not only did I not drink wine, I also did not partake of the whatever-it-was-appetizer-that-contained shrimp. At dinner, I didn't eat the carrots. I don't like carrots. But at least one person had to point this out and make a semi-big deal out of it, which DID make me very uncomfortable. When it came time for dessert, I took the nuts off the top of the cheesecake. I was the only one who didn't have a cup of coffee.

In short, I felt like a partial freak. They all did their best to make me feel included, and I think at the time, I did. But looking back, I'm kidding myself to think that I can be social like everyone else was being. I think even now I'm not explaining it right; exactly how I felt. I didn't feel included OR unincluded much of the time. I was "the quiet one" who was laughing at everyone's jokes and sincerely enjoying listening to the conversation about everyone's experiences with... well, with life, I guess. I kind of just felt as though I hadn't had enough of this life thing to be able to keep up with everyone else. I feel flattered on some level, that they all consider me to be mature enough to do such things with, but I think on some levels, I just wasn't up to par.

I wish I could explain it better. I think actually that it wouldn't matter how old my co-guests were. I'm not any more outgoing, really, with a group of people that are my age. I immensely enjoy listening to everyone else. I just don't usually contribute. I wonder why that is.

Well, I've already had two weird dreams about the wedding. The other night, I dreamt about my hair, of all things. My mom has made appointments for me and the 'maids and herself for the morning of the wedding. As the bride, I get a bonus appointment to "practice." On the appointment sheet, the word fragment "Brds" is next to my mom's name. I'm assuming that means "braids." (wth?) My appointment is designated as "updo," although I plan on wearing my hair down. I dreamt that I went to this practice appointment, alone, carrying my veil. I sat down in the chair, handed my veil to the hairdresser, then proceeded not to look at what she was doing at all! Neither did I look at what she did before I left.

After I left, I felt the veil start to fall off my head. Since it is attached to a comb, I just wrestled around with it however I could to make it stay put. It then occured to me to look at what I looked like... I discovered that I had an updo made of braids. Braids everywhere. None of my long, luxurious, VS-Conditioned-Bought-From-Ebay hair was down at all!

Not exactly a nightmare, but it was odd. The dream I had last night was a little more stressful. I dreamt that it was the day of the wedding, and I had to go buy a veil (what IS it with the stupid veil?). And my bridesmaid had to have one, too. We went to this store, and tried to pick out veils, but there wasn't a very good selection. And I kept getting confused over the attendents having to wear one, too. I finally found and bought one, only to leave it there by accident. When I went back to get it, the person I was with reminded me that it was almost time to go get married. It was at that point that I remembered I hadn't printed up programs or directions/map to the reception to hand out! Here in the waking world, that doesn't seem so earth-shattering. In the dream, however, it was the end of the world!

I am getting nervous now. Not about the marriage... this has been a long time coming! But the wedding itself it starting to, well, make me nervous. We still haven't planned the ceremony at all. We want to have personal vows, but neither of us are really cut out to spill our guts in front of everyone. I'm worried that it will be miserable and rainy and that our kinda-too-expensive photographer will not have a nice day to work his magic with. I'm worried that all the leaves will have already turned a dull brown and will litter the ground instead of shine bright oranges and yellows on the trees. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe I should have shot for getting married on Saturday the 18th. I would have had the leaves, it would have been on a "more appropriate" day of the week.

Maybe I should have tried for more elegant decorations. A DJ. Maybe people "go traditional" because it's a little less risky. I'm stressed about the reception being boring. That's been my big stressor all along. I have no shoes, no jewelry. I have to talk to the Cake Lady about the cake. I have to figure out champagne. I have to make a CD. I've lost a friend. I'm not like tearing my hair out over here, I'm just quietly imploding :-)

I still don't get what all this has to do with my dreamworld obsession with this veil, though.

First post-season playoff win since 1908! Woohoo!!!!!!!!

Next up, Florida. What the heck is a Marlin?

This guy would have looked ridiculous if the Cubs lost.

I joined an advanced clothes designer class so I could meet a celebrity. The celebrity teacher asked each student one by one a question regarding sewing, but I ducked out of the class before she got to me. Soon after, to my horror, I realized the first class assignment was to make a pair of pants, of which I was wearing none. Luckily, noone noticed, because the elevator was severely malfunctioning during our 15 story descent.

Dave apparently made a new category called "Strange Coincidences." What a nut. I love his coincidences, though... they make life very interesting.

Anyway. I have been working lately. And doing wedding stuff: favors, decorations, spending money, that sort of thing. They're fun now, but could get tedious.

I have really not felt like being at work lately... for about a month or so now. I just always want to be home, doing crafty stuff. Our house is near-chaos with boxes, paint, ornaments, thread, little canvas bags, paintbrushes, fishbowls, (er, I mean "clear glass bowls") rhinestones, crepe paper, and beads. This place is a serious mess, but what's the point of cleaning it up? I'm just going to drag everything out again. So I just need to finish it all up and put it all away.

I think one of the most subtle human cruelties is when you're listening to the radio... and you know those little advertisements radio stations do for themselves? Like, "All 80's All the time!!!" and then they play 6-10 second snippets of different 80's songs? And one of these snippets is a song that you just L O V E, and haven't heard in A G E S, and then all you get is 8 seconds of it. Argh!!

I was thinking the other day as I was driving around that the sun out here in CA is INTENSE. I was wondering why it seems so much brighter out here and realized it must be from the lack of humidity. The midwest humidity must scatter the rays and make things look a bit more hazy. Here, I feel as though I LIVE on the sun. It's just everywhere.

There is a lot left to do for the wedding. Vows, shoes, hotel stuff, on and on. Ugh.

That was one of the bigger jolts I've ever felt. Preliminary reports say the quake was about a 5.0 and centered up near Oakland. More Info.

Oh, now they are saying it is a 4.1. I would think it would have been bigger for me to feel this much movement 40 miles away. Ha! Now they are downgrading it to a 3.9 :). Jeesh! It seems like I'm always sitting on the couch when these earthquakes hit, maybe I should get off this couch more often. The couch shook a little, and everything creaked a little, but nothing fell off the walls.

This quake will be forgotten by tomorrow afternoon.

Reading about Anakin's first days of school reminded me of something that happened during my kindergarden days.

The kindergarten teacher left the room for a few minutes, and the whole class fell into anarchy, including me. I don't have a clue how I ended up standing on the table waving my arms, stomping my feet, and yelling. The principal walked in and saw me towering above the rest of the flittering students and singled me out. He boomed, "Mr. Rybolt, it's going to be war between you and me".

From that point forwards, I was deathly afraid of all authority figures.

So, as many of you know, Dave and I are getting married in October. I definitely plan on "taking" his name. I'm wondering, though, if I should also change the spelling of my first name while I'm at it. It's "officially" spelled Gina, but in high school a friend of mine started spelling it "Geena." I really liked it that way, and started spelling it that way sort of informally, but have had to wait until now to possibly change it to that spelling officially.

So what do you think? Keep it Gina but continue to spell it Geena? Or change it altogether?

In unrelated news, I had my sensitive tooth fixed today. Mr. dentist said that numbing usually isn't required, but seeing as how I jumped when he merely stared at it last week (ha ha), maybe I'd like some. Duh. So now 1/4 of my face isn't really of my control. After he numbed it, he brought out the Air Gun From Hell and I flinched at the mere sight of it! Since I couldn't feel half of my tongue, I thought it safe for him to try it. (Ironically, we were using the air nozzle to make sure I was numb enough) When he first used it, I flinched out of sheer anticipation of pain without actually feeling much. I then had to admit that I hadn't felt any pain at all :-)

So hopefully it's all better, at least for a few more years. I seriously really and truly hate tooth pain. There's just nothing like it.

Some random odd musings...

I think I've stumbled across the secret to getting up in the morning! Always eat breakfast! My body wakes up all by itself about an hour before I eat breakfast, because it wants me to search for the precious food I've addicted it to. I'll try never to skip breakfast again!

You know those snakey things you need to walk through before you order your food at fast food restaurants? Do you walk through them even if there isn't anyone else in line? I used to, but now I just skip it. This means I'm old.

I had a weird dream the other night (the polite thing to do at this point is to say "oh yeah? tell me about it", and then nod and occasionally interject). The dream was a normal one involving a bunch of people walking around doing something. At the end of the dream, I saw something in the distance out of the corner of my eye. I turned around and saw a huge plume of smoke shooting up from the ground to the sky. It looked like something very large was suddenly on fire. The smoke originated beyond some hills.

When I think back on most of my dreams, I realize that I'm subtly controlling what will happen next. Maybe I'll worry that the stairs will be rickety, and then the stairs will be rickety. Or maybe I'll worry that my teacher is an alien, and then my teacher will turn into an alien. But in this case, the smoke came out of nowhere, and I was distinctly startled. In my dream, I remember thinking, "what put that there?, not me". It startled me out of my dream-state all the way back to full-consciousness.

Well, more accurately, the hygenist made me cry. I've never cried at the dentist before, not through 4 years of orthodontics, not when the oral surgeon barbarically shoved guaze into the dry socket my wisdom teeth left, not even when the dentist filled a small cavity sans novocaine. (So yes, only one of these examples involves an actual dentist as opposed to a dentally-related specialty, but you get the point.)

All of those things caused varying degrees of pain (the dry socket taking the cake by a long shot) but I have remained steadfast in my composure.

Until today.

I went in for my 6 month cleaning and check up. For many many years I have had one tooth that has given me trouble off and on. Whatever's wrong down there causes pain when eating anything sweet, or to a lesser degree, anything cold. My dentist in Illinois "desensitized" it, whatever that means, and it's been fine for years.... until about a month ago, when it started acting up again. Knowing I had an appointment today, I lived with it.

I told the hygenist about it (who, I must point out, is one of the most thorough and educational hygenists I've ever had) and she entertained me with facts about tooth sensitivity. She said it was due to acid from fruits or vinegar dressings. When I told her that I can eat an orange without a grimace, and I don't consume vinegar dressings, she looked puzzled. I told her that chocolate is the biggest pain-causer. When I eat chocolate, if I chew it with the left side of my mouth, that tooth hurts. When I drink something afterwards, it goes away. She then suggested using Sensodyne and I told her that I've already been doing that for years. She then went on about a few more possible causes (all related to acid somehow) and how I could fix it.

One suggestion she made was to brush that area very gently, dry it off with a paper towel and put Sensodyne directly on the area for about a minute. All the while, she's got that little Toothpick From Hell instrument that seems to be migrating closer and closer to the Sensitive Area. She starts scraping a little and I'm pleased to realize that it doesn't really hurt. She squirts some water there, and it gives a brief moment of discomfort, but I can handle it.

Then she starts with that little instrument that is dipped in some randomly flavored polishing goo and starts polishing. All is well. I'm barely aware as she nears Sensitive Area. Not for long, however... when she started polishing that tooth, it caused quite a bit more discomfort than I had expected. Enough so that I made her quit polishing that particular area. She then informs me that the flavor of the polishing stuff she's using is chocolate mint.

I'm sure there's no actual chocolate in the chocolate mint polishing goo, but for the LOVE OF GOD! Couldn't she have chosen some other flavor? Just for karma's sake alone? Anyway, Senstive Area is now throbbing somewhat and she says that now that she's polished away the plaque that was "protecting" the tooth from "desensitizing itself," now would be a "good time" to apply the Sensodyne to Sensitive Area. When I picture Sensodyne in my head, I picture soothing white paste. It has been my friend and tooth-pain reliever for years and years.

What she brought out was green (mint again, I suppose) and she dried the Area off, then proceeded to apply the green Sensodyne. I had been expecting instant "soothe" (because the Area was still a little tender from polishing) but what I got was what I've seen described before as white-hot electric lightning bolt pain. Tears sprang to my eyes unbidden and I think they definitely achieved saucer status. Morever, the pain was unrelenting! I think I was in the fetal position by the time she gave me (warm) water to rinse with.

She apologized and all that, but then suggested that we do it again! Oh yeah, sign me up for a repeat performance. Clearly she and the aforementioned oral surgeon partied at the same School of Dental Hell together. She insisted that it wouldn't hurt as much this time and that it would ultimately be beneficial. Like a damn idiot, I agreed. (How many times have I caused pain to a patient, repeatedly, "for their own good?") She applied the green stuff again, and I do have to admit that she was right. Instead of white-hot electric lightning bolt pain, I would describe it as a blue-searing-neon sort of pain. Aaaahhhh.

About this time, the dentist came in and she told him about the Senstive Area and that she made me cry. I'll grant her that she didn't sound proud of it, but she wasn't exactly oozing remorse, either. The dentist took a look around, concentrated on the Sensitive Area for 1.2 seconds more than the other parts of my mouth and proclaimed, "My dear, you have beautiful teeth!" He says this every single time, but instead of saying "thanks" this time, I glared at him and asked why, if they were so beautiful, did they hurt so much? He looked at Senstive Area for a few more seconds, then reached for what I thought was the irrigating water thingy. Since the cool water had only annoyed it before, I wasn't worried and figured he'd use it pinpoint the actual Problem Area. I was a little more wary, however, and braced myself for at least a red-hot-poker sort of pain.

What he actually grabbed was the little air nozzle thingy and started pushing air on my teeth. The first two "squirts" (can you squirt air??) were on Normal Areas and felt fine. The third squirt sent me into realms of uncharted pain territory. My friends, there is a classification of pain that is higher than white-hot electric lightning bolt pain, and I can only think to describe it as an iridescent voltaic hypersonic strike of pain that is from the sun. Because the human psyche is set up to protect the body at almost all costs, I found that I really had to consciously restrain myself from knocking the little air nozzle across the room and hitting my dentist as hard as I could.

He then mumbled something about having to fix that and told Ms. Hygenist that we would make another appointement to desensitize it, and to write down on the chart exactly where it was because as I have been told by 3 different dentists now, "There is nothing visibly wrong with That Area." Ms. Hygenist then asked how we were going to desensitize it, and he mentioned something about etching the tooth and filling it with resin.

Etching? I asked what etching meant, but Mr. Dentist had already fled. That left Ms. Hygenist to laugh ironically and tell me that etching is where you pour acid on the tooth. Apparently, normally it doesn't require novocaine. She averted her eyes and said that in my case, he'd probably have to anesthetize The Area.

Sure. You bet. Bring it on! ...Right after my dose of nitrous oxide, you sick sadistic dentites.

There's a power struggle at the grocery store. Several people want to look at cake, but only one person can look at a time. Anything else would be madness!

Maybe it's just me, but I've seen the cake phenomena many many times when I'm browsing the aisles at the grocery store. Say I want to buy cake, but I don't know what brand or flavor to buy. I look at each cake box, calculate the price per good tasting bite factor, maybe check the ingredients to make sure there isn't any hidden pork, and finally make my decision based on how hungry I am right then. Meanwhile, a 40 year-old man with a moustache is pretending to browse the many shaped birthday candles.

He wants to browse the cakes, but he can't. He wants me to get the heck out of the way of the cake, but he uncomfortably pretends to not want to look at the cake. I'm happily reading how many fat-calories are in chocolate cake box #7, while moustache-man has resorted to sorting the birthday candles shaped like numbers. I can't feel sorry for him. This is my time. I am the king of cake. I rule.

New York's power outage has spawned a new celebrity. Unlike those of us who can switch on CNN, many people in New York who were suddenly bathed in darkness have no idea who turned out the lights.

But trusty CNN is there with battery packs and is out on the streets interviewing people. There was someone who was stuck in an elevator, and the convo went like this:

CNN: So, when the elevator came to a halt, what did you do? Did you scream and yell?

Stuck Man: No, actually I laughed.

CNN: Uhhhh....

And so on. Apparently the lights were flickering at his job, but he just HAD to get up to the 5th floor. He joked to the guy next to him that he'd probably get stuck in the elevator, thus getting the chance to laugh at his own little fulfilled prophecy. If he'd just walked up a few flights of stairs, he wouldn't have had to spend an hour in a dark elevator playing video games on his cell phone.

Then they got to the REAL celebrity... some old guy named Don. Now what do you suppose Don could have been famous for? He claimed to have random beautiful women approach him and strike up conversations. He got his own interview on CNN. Don's the man of the hour! Was it because he'd experienced past blackouts in New York, in 1965 (very violent apparently) and 1977? Perhaps he could shed some light (ha ha) on the current situation?

No... Don was popular because he had a freakin' battery powered handheld RADIO! Some old guy who nobody would have previously noticed became the Block Hero just because in lieu of wasting money on plasma tv's, wall-sized stereos or cell phones that masquerade as cameras, he plunked down 10 bucks for a damn radio :-)

I just love this country.

Still shiny!! :-)

I walked over to the mall today to deposit some money (yeah, about that - thanks to Ken at Wells Fargo for letting complete that little transaction without the wallet with ID that I forgot to bring with me) and decided to walk around.

I noticed something a little weird. As I was walking past a prom dress store, I saw a manequin at the entrance wearing a dress with spaghetti straps. On the manequin's upper arm was a tattoo. I found that quite bizarre.

Anyway, sometimes when traipsing about the mall, I am accosted by the kiosk-keepers in the middle of the aisle. Usually these are cell phone kiosks and they back off easily enough. It's almost without thinking now that I automatically say, "No thanks" to anyone that approaches me from these little Pavilions o' Commerce.

So walking along today, I was approached by someone holding lotion. I couldn't care less about lotion, didn't want to buy lotion, and was not about to stop mid-stride for lotion. I mindlessly rattled off "no thanks" as she loomed towards me with her bottle and she said, "Okay." I was no more than 2 steps away when I hear behind me,

"Are those your real nails?"

Argh! She got me!! She got me with the Statement That Sounds Like it Might be a Compliment. I don't do anything to my fingernails. I very very rarely paint them, and I never file them. But neither do I gnaw on them and they look halfway decent. Not great, not bad. Regardless, I was caught completely off-guard and before I knew it, she had my left thumb!! She proceeded to sand it or something with this little ... sander doo-dad and kept turning the little sander around to different sides and when she was done, I actually had a pretty nail. Another (sales)gal came up and started going on and on about how shiny my nail was and how much stronger it was (didn't we just buff off a few layers though?) and how it would stay this way for 2 weeks! Accoster #1 showed me the package of Nail Stuff and told me how much it was. The cost wasn't too bad, but wouldn't ya know it... I had forgotten my wallet. Bummer. Maybe if it's still shiny in 2 weeks I'll go back.

I have noticed that my left index finger has started showing an affinity for my newly shinysmooth left thumb now.

Random imagery from my dreams the last few days:

• I brought an unpeeled tiny-sized banana to the front counter, and the guy told me it would cost a penny.
• I was playing "Survivor", and I had to eat some chicken. I refused to continue playing when they said I had to eat an octopus hotdog.
• A tiger attacked me, but I tricked it by throwing a tennis ball and telling it to fetch.
• I was driven across a bridge that was exactly one car-width wide, and it had right-angled turns. We crashed and started to sink before I woke up.
• My mission was to clean a stain off the concrete floor next to the water heater using Windex. At first, I found the Windex, but then I couldn't find the stain. Then when I found the stain, I lost the Windex. I was distressed.
• In this 30 second dream I had during a quick nap, I was eating a sucker, and the jagged edge sliced my tooth out of my gums. My tongue expertly pushed the tooth out of my mouth. When I awoke a few seconds later, I carefully searched for any missing teeth.
• In another quick nap, I had a normal dream that I don't remember, but right before I woke up, I thought "oh good, I completed this dream". I woke up refreshed.
• This morning, my last dream thoughts before waking: "It puts the UTF8 in the Torah". It made a lot of sense to me for the first 10-20 seconds I was awake. Now it makes absolutely no sense.

The guy at the mattress store, today, was giving Geena and I a relatively hard sell. The hard sell wasn't as bad as one of our car shopping experiences, but the mattress guy did say something along the lines of "you probably should be laying on your back for this part of the presentation", when I moved from my back to my side. After that point, I was afraid to move until he told me so. Laying on your side wasn't until later in the presentation.

So anyways, after he had us try three different mattresses, he prematurely started to get out the paperwork and said "you need to make sure you buy an excellent top of the line mattress; Afterall, what is the most important furniture in your home?" I replied: "the toilet".

It was great! Great location, nice smart people, interesting work, and it's a company with real-world assets.

keep reading...

At first, I couldn't fall asleep last night. I was trying to interpret this strangely specific dream I had the night before. In that dream, I was reading the price of a very popular stock. The stock price had plummeted to around 2-3 points, when I knew that the stock's normal price was around 30-50. I remembered the dream very clearly when I woke up the next morning, so I immediately got out of bed to check the stock price online. The price was within it's normal range, but I still wondered why I would have such a specific dream about a stock that I haven't checked in years?

keep reading...

I don't know what made me notice you. You were usually not in my line of sight; I guess there was something that drew us to each other. Maybe boredom, or maybe it was just a matter of looking beyond the usual.

Even as I got to know you there, in that long corridor, I wasn't sure things would work out. I hadn't ever been with someone like you before. Sure, you looked different, but would you end up being like all the others?

To this day, I'm not sure exactly what it was that made me commit. The hope of renewal? Rejuvination? Maybe I was just ready to take a chance for once...

From the first moment we were together, I knew I wanted to be with you forever. My worries evaporated. I noticed a bounce, a sleekness that I'd never seen in myself before. I wondered how long you'd been right in front of my eyes - why hadn't I noticed you sooner? Am I really that jaded, that cynical? Had I just simply lost hope? Whatever it was, you fixed everything. A part of my life that had previously been so rote and boring became new again. I started to look forward to our time together.

And so it has been for these last few years. With your help, I have felt beautiful and unfettered.

Then the unthinkable happened... you grew distant. It became hard to reach you, to find you. Oh, you were still around, but inwardly I was starting to panic. What if I lost you forever? I started demanding more of you than I ever had before. If only I knew then what I know now... maybe I would have demanded even more, but that would have only depleted what little was left of you...

Now I've discovered that without warning, you've disappeared. Disappeared! You can imagine my shock. I fervently searched for you in all of your usual haunts, but to no avail. I've started wondering how my life will be without you and disappointment washes over me. I decided to search farther and more intensely than ever before; but alas, you're gone. Just like that. Had you no thought to MY feelings, MY needs?

I didn't think we'd have to part this soon. I'll hopefully get over you and all that you've done for me. I suppose I'll play the field to find a replacement... after all, I didn't know that someone like you even existed. Maybe, just maybe there's another like you out there. Maybe they'll be smoother, or even smell better.

Still, you never forget your first love.

Yes, my favorite leave-in conditioner, manufactured by Vidal Sassoon, has been discontinued in all of North America. I can't even find it on UK websites.

I am desperate here, people! Proctor & Gamble say that there may actually be a few VS Deep Treatment Therapy packages left on store shelves. Please please please, I BEG you - if you see any, buy them out! I'll pay you back and keep you at the forefront of my mind for when I either a) win the lottery that I never play or b) finally hit the jackpot and get to take care of some rich patient who is so impressed with my exemplary nursing skills that he/she decides to reward me monetarily.

Maybe he'll even be the president of Vidal Sassoon. If so, I shall have some things to chat with him about!

After I finish loading my car with groceries, I don't stow my shopping cart with the rest of the shopping carts. I usually push the cart a few feet away from my car, preferably near a curb. How much guilt should I feel from this? I feel none. Don't get me wrong, if there was a shopping cart corral within 8 or 9 car lengths, I would make the distance, but my grocery store only has corrals up by the entrance.

keep reading...

Today I reached 119,000 on Centipede over at Dave & Busters! That may be my highest score ever. I was introduced to the game at Bradley, and quickly became addicted. Hard to believe Centipede was already over 10 years old by the time I first played it!

There's a problem, though. The Dave & Busters version of Centipede is slightly impure. The gameplay is exactly the same, but there's a problem. You can continue your game by giving the machine more money! Impure, I tell you. That is so not right. Other than the screen being larger, everything else about the game is exactly the same. This impurity only comes into play when high scores are discussed.

Once I figured out I could just keep feeding the machine money until I got the highest score on the machine, that's what I did :). Now my initials are listed as #1 on the Centipede machine at Dave & Busters. 270,000+ points! The points are tainted, but so were the points of the previous record holder (so I tell myself). I still have a ways to go to reach the world record of 7,111,111. Maybe someone can get me a machine so I can practice at home!?

My start date is July 28th! I'll give more info later!

keep reading...

The first dream wasn't a full-blown dream. It was a quick thought when almost falling asleep. I remember feeling urgent fear of nothing in particular, and then I saw the imagery of a wall with something square on it. Some type of energy force visibly shot from the square to myself, and then I felt better. Or it may have been the other way around, the energy may have shot from myself to the square. Either way, the imagery wasn't what made the dream memorable. After the energy sequence, I remember thinking, "Ahhh, good. That always works".

The second dream happened this morning right before I woke up. I was standing next to a tree with family, friends, and maybe pets. I don't remember who was there, but someone said to me, "That one is killing you". Up climbing around the tree were several huge macroscopic tic-looking insects. They were walking around the tree like ants would. I found the particular bug pointed out to me by my companions, and I noticed it had strange markings that made it easy to distinguish from the other bugs. Some bug spray was sitting by my feet, so I picked it up and shot the one particular bug. It stopped in place, took several deep breaths, shook, and then fell to the ground. I remember thinking "I better watch where I walk so I don't step on that thing".

Geena and I had a great time hosting my brother Joe and his wife Becky here in the Bay Area. They better come back again real soon!

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There was this huge 3-inch wide, hissing ladybug in my dream this morning. It was sitting quietly up above a door that went outside. We wanted it out of our house, but we didn't want to kill it. It was so big, we calculated that swatting it with a book would only slightly injure or annoy it, so we collectively decided to capture and release.

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The UPS guy dropped off another big watch, today. I put it together and stuck it on the wall. Here's some pics.

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From the Illinois Department of Public Health:

Generally, marriages between cousins of the first degree are prohibited; however, first cousins may marry if --

• both parties are 50 years of age or older; or
• either party, at the time the couple applies for a marriage license, presents to the county clerk of the county in which the marriage is to take place a certificate signed by a licensed physician stating that the party to the proposed marriage is permanently and irreversibly sterile.

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Our old super-cheap vacuum (~$50.00) is no longer well. When you turn it on, it makes the following sound:

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Well, here are the finished pics of Project Red Room. I was mildly horrified after the last coat, because it looked so... red. But I've gotten used to it, and it has dried darker.

Cotton Candy On Crack (The color, not Dave)

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Painting a room red has turned out to be a very big mistake.

keep reading...

On Saturday, Dave decided that it was time to paint our second bedroom. After much deliberation Saturday night (after I got home from work), we decided to paint it Victorian Red. While not as red as children's playground equipment, it may be pretty close.

Because I had to work Sunday, Dave went to Home Depot to get the paint and supplies. I called him from work and he said that the Paint Guy recommended that we use primer on the walls in order to obtain the maximum obnoxious red that we're going for (maybe not in those exact words).

I've used primer before - most recently on a flower box that I'm about to mosaic. Its' clean whiteness covers over every single stain and blemish as though it had never been there. Since our walls are already quite white, I was a little surprised that we'd have to prime them, but whatever. Paint Guy knows what he's doing and clearly at least Home Depot is benefitting, right? :-)

When I called a few hours later, Dave said that the room had been all taped up and that he and Tennille were going to start priming soon. Fortunately, I was able to get off of work early (because I went in early), so I was excited to see what progress was being made. Maybe priming took only a little while and they were able to start painting RED! Wooo!!

So I got home around 8pm and Dave met me at the stairs. He had many paint spatterings on his shirt. Bright pink paint spatterings. BRIGHT PINK! I automatically assumed that 1) he'd gotten the wrong color, or 2) he'd gotten the wrong color. I warily ascended the stairs, all the while thinking that I'd made a terrible mistake in picking out the color and wondering how I was going to 1) tell them that we had to paint over it or 2) live with a bright pink room. My fears were founded when Dave opened the door to... a BRIGHT PINK ROOM!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Yes, you paint savvy readers out there: it did take me a full 20 seconds to realize that all that pink was primer! I was used to white primer, but apparently there are different tints. I cannot express my relief at not having to deal with a pink room. And my friends, it is freaking PINK.

I hope the room can take being so red. It gets a lot of light, so I think it can handle it. Ever since I saw a red room in the models for this place, I've wanted one... there's something so beautiful about a perfectly red room with white trim. Gorgeous! Pictures to come!

Here's what I think of people that tune their motorcycle engines to be as loud as fricken jet engines that have been tuned to sound like terribly tuned motorcycle engines:

I think this.

Good day.

The other day, Dave and I were out driving, and stopped at a stop light behind a pickup truck. Dave pointed out that the license plate's last 3 numbers were "666." After looking, I determined that the entire license plate was a little wierd - 6P69666. Even the "P" - if flipped over, it would resemble a 6.

As if that weren't odd enough, we then looked over to a bus that was the next lane over. The digital number on the back read "66."

That is all.

I watched "The Manchurian Candidate" (1962) yesterday on DVD. It is an excellent movie, and I hope to see it again someday (preferably in an actual theater).

Good Stuff:

• Surreal scene with the bad guys showing off their new trained "toys".
• Angela Lansbury played a 55 year old woman in this movie. That was 40 years ago.
• Go jump in a lake, buddy.
• Was written before mind control was cool.
• Good understandable plot and ending.
• I liked Frank.
• The press falls for Angela Lansbury's trick.
• 57.

Bad Stuff:

• The movie was a little slow, and I had a hard time keeping up my interest at the beginning.
• Sweaty foreheads.
• Look at all my queens! I OWNS YOU NOW!
• I have no idea why he beat the daylights out of slave boy.
• The figure head was too one-dimensional. This is forgivable.

The "Manchurian Candidate" world is a world that begs to be explored. I want to see the movie again so I can look more closely at the slow introductory scenes that didn't keep my interest the first time.

A list of difficult things:

1. Stop happy.
2. Start mad.
3. Fail happy.
4. Win mad.
5. Rue happy.
6. Dance mad.

Today was the official start of the conference ... lots of energy :) We went to several classes, mostly on an individual basis, so it was a lot of fun to meet up at the end of the day and compare notes. We're all so stoked about the new stuff we've learned.

I remember when I worked in IL, our hospital had these surveys they'd send out to patients. Our manager at the time put so much value into these surveys, and would change our practice based on patient's perspectives. One time, she mentioned that a patient wrote that they were so tired of looking at the ceiling in our unit, because it was drab and stained and icky - but laying flat on their backs, what else could they look at? So I suggested painting the ceilings! With a nice light blue, maybe stencil some simple clouds - I thought it was a grand idea. She completely shot it down and said there was NO way. I was pretty disappointed.

Today I went to a class about patient's perspectives and thought again about that old idea - the coworker I was with talked about her research into healing colors for hospitals (El Camino is building a new hospital within the next few years) and I suggested painting the ceilings. She initially thought it was a neat idea, but then seemed to reconsider - after all, painting the ceiling? Huh? She was more focused on wall art and such.

Tonight, we were all together again with my boss and we were chatting about our day, and I brought up the ceiling thing one more time to my current boss - and she loved it!! She said when the census dips a little during the summer, we should just go out on our own, buy some paint, get a few cloud stencils, and go to town on those ugly ceilings. Without even asking anyone for permission! I'm so excited about it - even one room would be so cool.

All I've ever heard from RN's is that NTI is so inspiring, blah blah - but it really sort of is. I'm having lots of fun :-)

Well, here I am in San Antonio, Texas. I'm just blocks away from the Alamo and the haunted Menger Hotel. I went on a 4 hour tour today of the city to the Alamo and Mission de San Jose. The conference starts in full force tomorrow and I'm excited! Many of my coworkers are here and we're having a grand time.

The weather is unbelievably hot! Very muggy - 90's all day long. Lots of places are air conditioned. We've had Mexican for dinner two nights now - quite good and authentic down here. I also found out that some of my coworkers from IL are here as well, and I'm looking forward to running into them at some point.

There are going to be over 6,000 critical care RN's here from all over the country. We're a rowdy bunch :) Gotta run - will write more when I can! Hope you're all having a great week - I certainly am!

Today I went to the Bead Shop in Palo Alto. Although I had a specific "list," I didn't trust myself once I got in there to stick to The List. Beads, especially pretty gold sparkly beads, can really add up. Therefore, I took in a specific amount (okay, $20) and NO credit card of any kind. Then I parked 3 blocks away.

Yes, pretty gold sparkly beads and colorful crystal shining in the sunlight is that tempting to me.

So I walk in, grab my little shopping muffin tin, and started looking around. As I accumulated beads, I kept a running total in my head of how much I was spending. For me, doing math in my head is HARD. I have many talents, but trying to remember numbers, and then adding and subtracting said numbers is just ... hard.

So I kept picking out beads until I reached $18.00 (and you'd be surprised just how quickly that happened!). Without actually doing the math, I figured that the 8.25% tax would put me just under $20.

I went to the register, and the Register Chic starts counting the beads out and putting them into baggies, all the while entering the totals. During this time, at least three people came up to her for various reasons: one wanted some class notes that she'd left at the store by mistake, one wanted earrings that had been made for her, and someone else had a question. It didn't really bother me, because she was doing a pretty good job of counting beads, entering numbers, and dealing with all of these people at the same time. Still, I was prepared for the total to be off a bit... and it was. It was only $9.00. I gave her an odd look and said that seemed a bit low; were any of the beads on sale or something? After giving me an odd look of her own ("Um, no, lady - I do not make such mistakes"), she assured me that it was all correct, so I paid and left.

About 1/2 block away, I looked at the receipt, thinking that maybe I was worse at math-in-my-head than I thought, and noticed that she didn't charge me for any of the little crystal beads I'd picked out. Hmmmm.

Now here's a dilemma. I could:

A) Screw it - I had questioned the total and she said it was fine. Therefore, I should be absolved of any further responsibility. Besides, I think their beads are way overpriced anyway.
B) Go back to the store and point out the mistake.
B1) Either she'd thank me profusely and say, "Oh, that's okay, don't worry about it - my mistake" and remember me from that moment on as "That Honest Girl" or
B2) She'd thank me profusely and then ring up the beads. But would still remember me as That Honest Girl.

I have to tell you that I was almost kinda fully expecting B1. It was busy in the shop and I didn't think that she'd take the time to do it. The extra added bonus was that my good karma would remain intact. And maybe, just maybe, I'd rise a notch in Dante's Inferno Quiz in which according to my answers, I am to be banished to the 8th level of hell (out of a total of 9 levels. Yes, most of my friends were in the top 3-4 levels. Not me. I'm totally screwed.)

So, with the Beaming Glow that can only come from one so pure, light, and honest, I went back to the shop and told her that she forgot to ring up the crystal beads, and that was why the total ended up being lower than I thought. She kinda did that knocking-your-hand-against-your-forehead thing (either that, or she was just trying to shield her eyes from the Glow) and said, "Oh! I can't believe I forgot those! Thanks for coming back - I'll ring them up."

Damn!

She then apologized for the aforementioned return Odd Look that she gave me when I questioned the total. I halfheartedly quipped that I was happy to realize I could do math in my head after all.

Hopefully I'll at least have the title of That Honest Girl.

I have an Apple iBook. And the now defunct Apple Cube. About a year ago, I bought an iPod. My iPod is fairly obsolete by now, though... it only has a measley 5 gigs and can only hold about 1,000 songs.

I still haven't filled it. But I use it quite a bit.

I'm sort of weird. I love music, but I rarely listen to new stuff. I hate breaking in new CD's. I prefer music to just come into my life, and if I notice it, great.

Growing up, there was almost always music playing. During the summer, I remember the radio being on quite a bit during the day. We always listened to it in the car. When we bought a CD player, we played a ton of music on that. I always fell asleep with the radio on.

I feel as though I have a soundtrack for my life, and it fascinates me! Whenever I hear an old song, or even a song from when I was in college that was played often, I am instantly transported in my mind. I remember my surroundings and thoughts. I can't adequately describe it, but I'm sure ya'll know what I mean.

Now that you have an idea of just how saturated my life was with music, I now have to admit to what kind of music it was. My dad listened to a lot of "oldies" - 50's and 60's stuff. I still really like listening to that every once in awhile. But my mom... well, mom listened to light rock. The soundtrack to my childhood includes 70's and 80's music that was played on light rock stations - Cristopher Cross, Toto, Phil Collins, Olivia N-J, America, The Eagles, Gordon Lightfoot, James Taylor - yeah. It almost caused me physical pain to type out a few of those, and I have left out one or two that I simply will never admit to still liking :-)

Now, Apple has come out with a Music Store. I am in complete and utter love with this concept. You go to the "store" and you can buy, legally, one song at a time! This means that although I have very fond memories with 1 or 2 Christopher Cross songs playing in the background, I don't have to buy the whole album. I can just download a couple!

So whenever I feel like escaping my adult responsibility-laden life, I can sit back and relax with the 'Pod - and all of my favorite childhood lightrockness. (Yeah, Dad - I got some Supremes, too. :))

I'm curious to see who actually comes and browses this blog. I know there are fancy tools out there that can monitor who surfs to your site, but I don't own this or really know much about blog tools. so lets do it the easy (or tennille-is-lazy to bug dave or learn) way and post below if you read this blog!

not that i expect any comments on anything i post (i know i'm a fruitcake with a zen frog), but it is like talking to a wall...why post if no one is reading?

mom, are you out there? dad? lorri? ron? audrey? carol? julia? roberta? anyone? anyone? bueller?

;)

Wow - not much has been blogged lately. I've been posting occasionally to codeblog but nothing here.

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We here at tilegarden haven't blogged much, if at all, about the war. I cannot speak for my counterpart other than to say that he watches CNN about 16 hours a day.

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Is it just me, or does this "Shock and Awe" campaign in Baghdad just sound like some town in Oklahoma?

Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence

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Which is stronger? Mother Nature or Father Time?

Duck, Cover, and Enjoy Coke!

From Viewers Vent Over 'Joe Millionaire':

"No, I will not watch the finale," read a subsequent posting. "Fox has lied to us, and I feel that they should be punished for that. ... Bad move, guys. It will be a while before I put my trust back into Fox."

"I really don't know if I am going to watch the last show or not," one person wrote. "At this point I am soooo mad I don't care who wins. Anyone else feel this way?"

I realize this is a big let-down, people, but really.

I apologize in advance for what is sure to be a scathing rant.

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Lately, whenever I go shopping at the grocery store, or go to a restaurant, or make any type of purchase whatsoever, I look for a deal. I'm still not all that good at doing stuff like clipping out coupons, or sending in refunds, but I've figured out how to save a few dollars here and there and it is starting to add up.

keep reading...

Tonight we went to see Catch Me If You Can (a big thank you to all the people who were not sick tonight and did not come to the ER only to end up in my CCU, thereby giving me the last half of my shift off! Woo!). As usual, we walked to the theater, and as usual, stood in line behind a couple who had already started their transaction for purchasing 2 tickets to see a movie.

We waited.

And waited. What the hell takes so long when buying a stupid movie ticket? WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP THERE?? I do not understand. When I buy movie tickets, it takes less than 15 seconds. So why am I standing here waiting behind you for 2 minutes now?

Well that looked bad. Rome wasn't built in a day, yet I have a problem with waiting 2 minutes to go see the moving picture show. It's not bad when it's only one couple I'm waiting behind... throw in a few of those time-sucking weebles and I get testy.

Tonight I watched closely to determine the exact time-sucking factor. By the time we arrived, the name of the movie had already been spoken. The cashier was busily typing it into the computer. Then nothing. More nothing. Then I think Ms. Time-Sucking-Movie-Goer had to sign something. A-ha! She charged the tickets. Now the tickets have been handed to Ms. TSMG's companion, yet Ms. TSMG is ... still there. In front of me. Blocking my path to moving pictureness.

Why? WHY???

Oh yeah... Because she had to daintily give the pen back to the cashier, open her wallet, put the credit card into the correct slot, close the wallet, open her purse, make room for the wallet, carefully place the wallet inside of the purse, close the purse, put it on her shoulder, and then get the #@$& out of my way.

And it's not only movie theaters; it also happens nation-wide in numerous grocery and department stores. And every other kind of store besides.

People: Please move out of the way when you are finished paying for your purchases. The outside counter is really long for a reason; that reason being for you to remove yourself from the line while putting away your stupid wallet. The people waiting behind you cannot commence their transaction until you have stopped blocking the cashier.

Actually, try this one: just go to the ATM that's not 5 feet from the window and get some actual money out. Yes, you too can buy movie tickets in 15 seconds or less!

Just be sure to move the heck outta the way after you get your cash.

Friday is my last day at this client.

I have one (ish - they are still debating over another report) to get done by 5:00 tomarrow.

I keep getting questions and changes for old reports. Stuff that should have been decided a year ago.

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The other day at work I was scheduled to precept a new RN that we'd hired. As usual, I asked her about her background. She said she hadn't been in nursing for 10+ years, but that she'd been a nurse for 13 years before that. She then told me about how she left nursing 12 years ago to be a software engineer.

With the current layoff situation around here, she said she's been unable to find a job for almost a year and was left no choice but to find a job as an RN again. Whoa!! I told her about Dave being a software engineer and his current situation. She asked where he worked and I told her the name of the now-out-of-business company.

She gave me kind of an odd look.

I gave her one back.

She then explained that she'd interviewed at that same company last year AND was offered a job, but she turned it down because she received a better offer elsewhere.

That left me with the thought that although our jobs are completely different, I am currently working with someone who could have also been a coworker of Dave's at one point.

Weird world, huh?

i went to wash my car today and some guy must have watched the same sit-com that i did. it was darma and greg and the theme of the show was random acts of kindness. well, i had to wait awhile for a bay to open up and when it did, i pulled in. then i noticed 5 minutes on the timer! i got a free car wash! the guy in front of me must have overpaid or plunked some quarters in for me ;) i'm thinkin it is the latter because i noticed him put more money into it not to long before he was done washin his truck.

thank you Mr. Carwash man!

brushing up your resume! I had that interview this morning. It went...okay, but now i know I need to expand about what i'm currently doin on my resume. good practice!

interviews are also good for sweaty hands, and passing the time while yer waiting for lunch to roll around the corner.

it was a short one. i kinda hope i never have to endure one of those really long all day kinda ones.

Who all here has their TV on every waking moment they are at home? I used to, but not anymore. Keep reading if you want to know how this has changed my life. This log entry is pretty long, and very very uninteresting, but I don't care.

keep reading...

Unfortunately, (or fortunately, actually) there is nothing earth shattering going on in my life right now. So I think I may tell you a story and hope that it doesn't bore you!

I don't know how many of you pay attention to the little details of life going on around you, but I distinctly remember the day that I started doing that. One day, I was in church with my mom and it was Communion Day. Communion Day is the loooooooooongest day of any teenager's life, I can tell you. Once they passed around the "wine," my mother told me to listen to everyone put their little cups (these little cups are about the size of my thumb) into the little wooden glass holders on the backs of the pews. Because everyone drinks at the same time, they put their cups back into the holders at the same time. So I listened, and it was a sort of interesting sound. Then she said something to the effect that it wasn't very pretty because that day, we were using the plastic cups. (Easier for cleanup - just throw them away at the end). She told the minister after church that next time we had Communion, she wanted the real glass cups to be used, and that she would be happy to wash them afterwards.

A month later, it was Communion Sunday again. They passed around the "wine" cups to everyone, all of us drank, then put the glass cups back into the holders... what a sweet sound it was! Although I'd already been through dozens of Communions, no doubt some of them using the glass cups, I'd never noticed before.

Thanks, mum. :-)

Why, being in charge of 2, of course! Last time I was in charge, we had the second CCU open due to high census, which involved a lot of crap. Needing staff, needing to get patients moved, needing to not need the extra staff I called in because I got the patients moved.

My sister is here in town for the week. We went up to the city yesterday, and went to the Winchester Mystery House today. I LOVE that house! I've been there 3 times now, and this time there were actually a few more rooms open, which was a really lovely surprise. It's my dream to actually have a really wild and crazy house. Not one that takes up a few acres ... just one that's highly unique and eccentric.

Tonight Dave and I went to Subway to get a little sandwich, and when we walked in, the guy behind the counter was on the phone, but glanced at us. It took us all of 20 seconds to figure out what we wanted, but the guy stayed on the phone. We stared heavily at the guy, but he never looked at us again. Finally Dave said, "Well, see ya later buddy" and we walked out... only then did he look at us again. We looked in the window as we walked by and he was off the phone. What an idiot.

This evening, just now, I ate the last bagel. It was very good smothered in strawberry jelly. I will also mention, well admit, that I ate most of their bagels. now they are without. please send all lonely or orphan bagels to dave and gina so they may give them a loving home in their tummies ;)

p.s. my vacation is going swimmingly. no, i haven't gone swimming, but some sea lions i saw yesterday were! pictures will be comming soon!

<3 nelliebear

Hi friends and family. I have a confession. I am addicted to computer games.

You might be glad to hear, though, that I have not played a single computer game since I've been back, on Dec. 27th (okay, I played some on the plane, but come on ... it's a 4 hour trip). Numerous times I've felt the draw of Turbo 21, Poppit, Collapse, Word Whomp, Pyramids, Solitaire, on and on and on. Mostly those times like now ... I'm waiting for Dave to finish his shower so that we can go somewhere. It's too short a time to really get into something (like working on a mosaic), and I've already read everyone's blogs for today, and some news, the weather, my email. So in order to keep on fighting this massive addiction, I'm writing a blog entry. I think I feel it passing even now. My grandmother said over the holidays that when she quit smoking (after 1000 years of doing so.... go grandma!!), she would get these cravings, but then just do something else. She told herself if after a few minutes she was still wanting one, she'd have one. But the craving always went away when she busied herself with other activities. Whatever the heck they might be... they sure didn't involve blog entries :-)

I think Dave's done with his shower. And pretty soon I'll be on the road to my biggest (though least-often indulged) addiction of all... chicken picatta from The Cheesecake Factory :-)

Yay! I finally bought myself that wireless router I've been thinking about buying for the last umpteen years. My laptop (potpal) is now wireless. That means I can bring my laptop anywhere in my house and still be on the internet. And more importantly, that means there won't be any pesky wire hanging off to my side when I'm sitting on the couch. Do you know how many times that wire has gotten in our way when someone is walking across the room? Do you know how many times the laptop network card has went flying across the room because angus, geena or myself has tripped over the network wiring? 645 times and 12 times.

Now if only they can create wireless power (the battery lasts several hours, but then conks out, darn).

Maybe someday geena and I will go across the country looking for wireless entry points like these two. There sure are a lot of public wireless entry points out there. Just sitting on my couch, I can reach my entry point, and some other dude's named govin. If I was more generous, and knew how to secure everything properly, I'd leave mine public (but I won't :-)).

-- posted from my couch (even though I'm wireless, this is still where I like to post).

It's that I hate the possibilites of everything that can go wrong WHILE flying. Taking off, landing, a little turbulence...no big deal. I even think taking off is great fun. Thinking of terrorists, mid-air plane crashes, and falling to my death from 30,000 feet ... ugh. Everytime I fly, I feel like I'm taunting Mr. Lawof Average. I know there are people that have flown millions of miles (uh...pilots, namely, I guess!) and have been just fine. This is the only thought that guides me to actually plant my feet on the bird. So whoever is reading this .... if you love me, pray for me :-)

I hope everyone has a great holiday season! Heaven forbid I say "Merry Christmas," lest I offend someone. Last year, I worked on Christmas Eve and Day. At 7pm, the next shift came on, and I just was feeling .... christmasy, and I said Merry Christmas to the first person I saw, who happened to be Israeli, I think. Or Indian. Anyway, she was a tad offended, and while usually a very lovely lady whom I very much enjoy working with and respect immensely, this time she gave me The Look and said, "Not really... I don't celebrate Christmas." So I said, "Well, I do. No offense intended, but today IS Christmas, whether you celebrate it or not, and I'm wishing you a merry day." Geez. Then she kinda chilled, but whatever. It didn't damage our relationship any, but I'll steer clear of her for future Christmases :-) I was thinking of how I'd react if someone randomly came up to me and said, "Joyous Ramadan," or "Happy Kwanzaa." To my horror, I realized that my initial reaction may have been the same as hers! Yuck. So now I shall revel in the happy seasons of others, whether I "observe" them or not.

So anyway.... Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. (Ya'll observe the changing of Gregorian calendar, don't you? If not ... I give up.)

The 2002 Picture of the Year contest has concluded. Please stop sending your photo's (especially the pictures of cute dogs).

And the winner is (drum roll please)...

*rat a tat tat*

Rat a tat tat? Anyways. You ready for the winner? Are ya ready? YA READY? If yer ready, say "I'M READY" !!!

*crickets chirping*

You guys all suck. The winner is the rooster. Yes. The rooster is back.

Today's super-information is the following:

• geena liked Star Trek: Nemesis.

I liked it, but that isn't big news since I'm a trekkie. I give Star Trek: Nemesis three and a half Kahn's:

And BTW, I'm watching a Friends' rerun right now, and it's the one where they are trying to get a couch up the stairs. The couch just got stuck. Let me tell you: it sucks when that happens :-).