Girl and Dog has tagged me and asked that I list my 5 favorite songs. This is impossible primarily because my list of favorites shifts drastically with my mood. Also, narrowing it down to 5 is a tall order (though I do appreciate the fact that the list won't be a daunting task). Unlike the rest of the world, I can't refer to a songlist in my mp3 player 'cause I don't have one. Therefore, I'm going to the CD shelves and attempting to recall via osmosis. So, in an effort to participate honestly, I will list 5 songs that I can listen to when in almost any mood. Songs that have stood the test of time and maturity. Songs that I would enjoy hearing at my wedding. Now, without further ado, I give you 5 of my favoritish songs.
1. The Best is Yet to Come performed by Frank Sinatra. LOVE IT. 2x4 once told me this song makes him think of us. It should most definitely make an appearance at the wedding.
2. Mambo Italiano performed by Dean Martin. Whenever this song comes on, I. cannot. sit. still. It always makes me smile. I'm smiling just thinking about it. "Hey mambo, mambo italiano..."
3. Repetetive? maybe. But I have to do it: Withcraft also performed by old blue eyes. An explanation isn't always necessary. This is just a good song.
4. Why Georgia by John Mayer. John Mayer wrote the soundtrack for my life around the time that I decided to end my first marriage. The idea that he wanted to skip his freeway exit and just keep driving, leave his current life because, "might be a quarter life crisis, or just a stirring in my soul"...so what I was feeling. My very own quarter life crisis left me with the realization that I had made a mistake and married the wrong man, but that I could rectify that mistake. Had I not done so, I wouldn't have been available to spend the rest of my life with the man who makes me feel complete.
5. Sunrise by Nora Jones. Happy. Tranquil. Just plain enjoyable.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Inspiration via 2x4
I sat at my desk, chin deep in med charts, service plans, and scheduling challenges when my purse emitted that tell tale vibration sound, indicating a text message. I absent mindedly fished through the middle pocket, not taking my eye off the puzzling chart in front of me, full of microscopic squares, intended to monitor medication compliance. I used my left thumb in an often practiced maneuver to flip open the phone and read the incoming message.
"Do you want to go out on a date with me tonight?"
My heart skipped a beat at the prospect. Two simultaneous reactions occurred within me.
1. Absofreakinlutely.
2. We can't afford this.
I took a split second to hush number 2. We need this. Our schedules have been opposing, we've both been somewhat on edge, and due to a scheduling snafu I get out of work at 6 this evening instead of 9 which would have put me home just in time to hear the first of his sleeping breaths. Instead, my wonderful love wants to take advantage of the rare opportunity of an evening together and treat the stressed out woman that he loves to a night of wining and dining. God I love this man. So, I responded:
"YES!"
His response:
"Put on something nice"
I paused from my paperwork hell to swoon.
Of course, mental health clients being what they are, my last client decided that TODAY would be the day he does a 180 degree turn and wants to be compliant with his treatment, and talk about it. All I could think was, 'Good GOD would you shut up? Don't you understand I have a life? Why after 3 weeks of bitching and moaning must you want to be chatty today?' How's that for empathy?
I barely made it out of work at 6. I came in the door and he was at the computer, dressed up, sexy as hell. I greeted him with a kiss and stated, "I'm sorry I don't have time to chat, I have a hot date tonight"
He was very understanding, and gave me my space.
Showered, sexy, excited and light hearted, we headed out. We had never been to this restaurant before. We walked in the door and were greeted by a pleasant gentleman who lead the way to our table. We followed him, a slight limp causing his gait to be slow, and I took in the atmosphere, trying to savor each moment. The white linen table clothes looked crisp. The wine glasses on each table held cloth napkins, alternating in black and white. The walls were a calming pale green with a darker chair rail breaking the monotony of the one color The contrast was appealing to the eye. The lighting was just right and the small lanterns on each table helped set the low-key, relaxing mood.
He pulled out my chair, a gesture that I love, and that has never been performed for me by another man. We settled in and ordered a bottle of Chianti. The waitress understood right away that we were not in a hurry and allowed us to enjoy our meal at a slow pace with minimal interruptions. The sounds within the restaurant ebbed and flowed as we immersed ourselves in conversation, enjoying each other's company, catching up on the small portions of life that get lost when our time together is limited. The meals were marvelous, specialty culinary creations not on the menu as there were no vegetarian selections. He had called ahead, he thought of everything. He decided on a white sauce, and I on a red. We sampled each other's, both impressed with the chef's ability to make pasta primavera so enticing, the vegetables cooked just right and the ratio of veggies to pasta perfect.
As the waitress wrapped the remainder of my meal (He had nothing to wrap, his bowl was clean) I noticed that the din had decreased. Many of the evenings diners had moved on, few of us remained. I ordered the triple chocolate cheesecake for desert and was generous enough to feed Him a couple bites. The chocolate was a wonderful pairing for the remainder of Chianti in my glass, the bottle drained.
As we exited the dining room we took a moment to glimpse at the artwork on the walls, offering forth critiques to one another. I shared that wine still lifes are appealing to me despite their generic qualities. Perhaps it's the reaction they invoke in my soul, the feel of romantic evenings, of time well spent, of the unencumbered passage of time.
I'll leave you to your imagination regarding how the night ended. Rest assured, the end was no disappointment. I can't imagine a more inspiring evening. Sometimes, my muse is channeled through the love of my life.
"Do you want to go out on a date with me tonight?"
My heart skipped a beat at the prospect. Two simultaneous reactions occurred within me.
1. Absofreakinlutely.
2. We can't afford this.
I took a split second to hush number 2. We need this. Our schedules have been opposing, we've both been somewhat on edge, and due to a scheduling snafu I get out of work at 6 this evening instead of 9 which would have put me home just in time to hear the first of his sleeping breaths. Instead, my wonderful love wants to take advantage of the rare opportunity of an evening together and treat the stressed out woman that he loves to a night of wining and dining. God I love this man. So, I responded:
"YES!"
His response:
"Put on something nice"
I paused from my paperwork hell to swoon.
Of course, mental health clients being what they are, my last client decided that TODAY would be the day he does a 180 degree turn and wants to be compliant with his treatment, and talk about it. All I could think was, 'Good GOD would you shut up? Don't you understand I have a life? Why after 3 weeks of bitching and moaning must you want to be chatty today?' How's that for empathy?
I barely made it out of work at 6. I came in the door and he was at the computer, dressed up, sexy as hell. I greeted him with a kiss and stated, "I'm sorry I don't have time to chat, I have a hot date tonight"
He was very understanding, and gave me my space.
Showered, sexy, excited and light hearted, we headed out. We had never been to this restaurant before. We walked in the door and were greeted by a pleasant gentleman who lead the way to our table. We followed him, a slight limp causing his gait to be slow, and I took in the atmosphere, trying to savor each moment. The white linen table clothes looked crisp. The wine glasses on each table held cloth napkins, alternating in black and white. The walls were a calming pale green with a darker chair rail breaking the monotony of the one color The contrast was appealing to the eye. The lighting was just right and the small lanterns on each table helped set the low-key, relaxing mood.
He pulled out my chair, a gesture that I love, and that has never been performed for me by another man. We settled in and ordered a bottle of Chianti. The waitress understood right away that we were not in a hurry and allowed us to enjoy our meal at a slow pace with minimal interruptions. The sounds within the restaurant ebbed and flowed as we immersed ourselves in conversation, enjoying each other's company, catching up on the small portions of life that get lost when our time together is limited. The meals were marvelous, specialty culinary creations not on the menu as there were no vegetarian selections. He had called ahead, he thought of everything. He decided on a white sauce, and I on a red. We sampled each other's, both impressed with the chef's ability to make pasta primavera so enticing, the vegetables cooked just right and the ratio of veggies to pasta perfect.
As the waitress wrapped the remainder of my meal (He had nothing to wrap, his bowl was clean) I noticed that the din had decreased. Many of the evenings diners had moved on, few of us remained. I ordered the triple chocolate cheesecake for desert and was generous enough to feed Him a couple bites. The chocolate was a wonderful pairing for the remainder of Chianti in my glass, the bottle drained.
As we exited the dining room we took a moment to glimpse at the artwork on the walls, offering forth critiques to one another. I shared that wine still lifes are appealing to me despite their generic qualities. Perhaps it's the reaction they invoke in my soul, the feel of romantic evenings, of time well spent, of the unencumbered passage of time.
I'll leave you to your imagination regarding how the night ended. Rest assured, the end was no disappointment. I can't imagine a more inspiring evening. Sometimes, my muse is channeled through the love of my life.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Re-evaluating
Some blogs have specific goals or themes. Some are simply an outlet for writers, an opportunity to practice writing with the added bonus of connecting with others. Some seem to be ramblings about day to day life, and again a connection to others through comments and reading other's blogs. Some blogs are devoted to hobbies such as photography or computer jargon.
When I first began blogging I never chose a theme. I simply decided that it would be enjoyable to have a writing outlet that wasn't graded or evaluated. A location where I was the one in control and could write about everything from the mundane and trivial to the deep and meaningful. In turn, I enjoy a variety of blogs. I enjoy those devoted to humor and those devoted to introspection. I enjoy the ones that are simply online journals, providing a connection to others that I would otherwise never have met. I've connected with other people from across this country and beyond and look forward to reading about the daily lives of people that I consider friends, friends that I have never met in person but who know more about me than many people I have met in person. I believe that I also know a great deal about these people, perhaps more than many that they have met in person. All of these new connections, and not once did I have to sign up for an online dating service!
Lately I have been somewhat self conscious about the quality of my writing. My blog has slipped into the land of the mundane much too frequently. I feel as though my muse has left the building and left the 'time expected to return' portion of the community bulletin board blank. I have spent a great deal of the last several months seeking out inspiration wherever I may find it and I routinely become frustrated with my inability to translate whatever inspiration I eke out into art. I have always used art in one form or another to keep the depression grip at bay. I have used writing, painting, drawing, pottery, scrapbooking, stamping, watercolor and assorted craft making to keep myself busy, occupied, and content. But, quality has always been important to me as well. A concept that my mother beat into me (figuratively of course) was, "If you're going to do something, do it right." This applied to everything from dusting the living room to the biggest tasks that one decided to take on, and I take this idea very seriously. Otherwise, what's the point of committing yourself to something?
With my blog, I simultaneously feel the desire to hold my writing up to a quality that I am proud to call my own, and to post simply to stay connected to my (for lack of a better term) cyber friends. I have felt as though my posting keeps them coming back, and if I go too long without posting, they'll forget about me and move on to the more entertaining and predictable blogger.
Mel, one of my favorite bloggers ever, has decided to take a break from the world of blogging. She says she's not feeling it anymore. And while I stand behind her need to take a break, I'm saddened that I will no longer be able to take a peak into her entertaining and touching personal world. At the same time, I have zero intention of taking her off my blogroll and will probably stop by her site daily as a matter of habit. So, when she decides she's up for writing again I'll be one of the first to comment and welcome her back on board with cyber hugs and kisses. In the mean time I'll probably drop her an email and ask that she keep in touch.
I guess this made me realize that I don't need to fill my blog with fluff to keep people coming. The people that matter (like 2x4, Mel, Shoparound, Amy, Cyberoutlaw, and Steph, for instance) will stop by periodically regardless of the frequency of posts. For that reason I've decided to focus on quality and not quantity. I will post when inspired to do so and not stress out about how long it's been since my last post. Those of you who are interested, by all means keep coming back as the frequency of my posts is bound to vary. I have no doubt that some weeks I'll post like my muse came back from her hiatus and is full with renewed energy from her invigorating vacation. And some weeks, my unpredictable muse will leave, feeling the unforeseen urge to recharge her battery. Either way, I've decided that I want to be proud of what I put forth in this format, and I can't predict how frequently my mind will offer forth worthy material.
When I first began blogging I never chose a theme. I simply decided that it would be enjoyable to have a writing outlet that wasn't graded or evaluated. A location where I was the one in control and could write about everything from the mundane and trivial to the deep and meaningful. In turn, I enjoy a variety of blogs. I enjoy those devoted to humor and those devoted to introspection. I enjoy the ones that are simply online journals, providing a connection to others that I would otherwise never have met. I've connected with other people from across this country and beyond and look forward to reading about the daily lives of people that I consider friends, friends that I have never met in person but who know more about me than many people I have met in person. I believe that I also know a great deal about these people, perhaps more than many that they have met in person. All of these new connections, and not once did I have to sign up for an online dating service!
Lately I have been somewhat self conscious about the quality of my writing. My blog has slipped into the land of the mundane much too frequently. I feel as though my muse has left the building and left the 'time expected to return' portion of the community bulletin board blank. I have spent a great deal of the last several months seeking out inspiration wherever I may find it and I routinely become frustrated with my inability to translate whatever inspiration I eke out into art. I have always used art in one form or another to keep the depression grip at bay. I have used writing, painting, drawing, pottery, scrapbooking, stamping, watercolor and assorted craft making to keep myself busy, occupied, and content. But, quality has always been important to me as well. A concept that my mother beat into me (figuratively of course) was, "If you're going to do something, do it right." This applied to everything from dusting the living room to the biggest tasks that one decided to take on, and I take this idea very seriously. Otherwise, what's the point of committing yourself to something?
With my blog, I simultaneously feel the desire to hold my writing up to a quality that I am proud to call my own, and to post simply to stay connected to my (for lack of a better term) cyber friends. I have felt as though my posting keeps them coming back, and if I go too long without posting, they'll forget about me and move on to the more entertaining and predictable blogger.
Mel, one of my favorite bloggers ever, has decided to take a break from the world of blogging. She says she's not feeling it anymore. And while I stand behind her need to take a break, I'm saddened that I will no longer be able to take a peak into her entertaining and touching personal world. At the same time, I have zero intention of taking her off my blogroll and will probably stop by her site daily as a matter of habit. So, when she decides she's up for writing again I'll be one of the first to comment and welcome her back on board with cyber hugs and kisses. In the mean time I'll probably drop her an email and ask that she keep in touch.
I guess this made me realize that I don't need to fill my blog with fluff to keep people coming. The people that matter (like 2x4, Mel, Shoparound, Amy, Cyberoutlaw, and Steph, for instance) will stop by periodically regardless of the frequency of posts. For that reason I've decided to focus on quality and not quantity. I will post when inspired to do so and not stress out about how long it's been since my last post. Those of you who are interested, by all means keep coming back as the frequency of my posts is bound to vary. I have no doubt that some weeks I'll post like my muse came back from her hiatus and is full with renewed energy from her invigorating vacation. And some weeks, my unpredictable muse will leave, feeling the unforeseen urge to recharge her battery. Either way, I've decided that I want to be proud of what I put forth in this format, and I can't predict how frequently my mind will offer forth worthy material.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
World Domination
I just want to share with you, my friends, the fact that the Hershey company is taking over my mind. They have implanted some undetectable microscopic device inside the wrappers of the two confections you see here. This device has been programed to erase all will power I have spent decades amassing by making me unable to think about anything else as my mouth waters uncontrollably until I both purchase and consume these confections. Near as I can tell, they are in cahoots with Lane Bryant as both will profit from the expansion of my waist size.Beware the conspiracy my friends. They're trying to take over the world.
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