lunch box

and so I begin a life in a world without Kurt Vonnegut

2007-04-12T09:02:00.001-05:00

day 55 of 365 = and so I begin a life in a world without Kurt Vonnegut
Originally uploaded by libraryann.

This post is from a flickr project called 365days.

"So the America I loved still exists, if not in the White House or the Supreme Court or the Senate or the House of Representatives or the media. The America I love still exists at the front desks of our public libraries."
http://www.inthesetimes.com/article/i_love_you_madame_librarian/

I am a librarian. While that doesn't necessarily make me a reader - I am. I love a good book - I can even love so-so books if they entertain me. Certainly, I have favorite authors and favorite books. Certainly, I try to pass books off to others as things they must have in their lives.

This morning, after dropping of my son at school, I heard the news on NPR that Kurt Vonnegut died of complications due to a fall from a few weeks ago. I have not read everything he's written (a copious list); I do not own a copy of every title. But I am an admirer of Kurt Vonnegut: his works and his opinions. His books, essays, plays, etc. will live on but there won't be a new one and I won't get to hear his live commentary anymore.

I've never had to live in a world without Kurt Vonnegut before.

It is so completely self centered and self indulgent to think, "I should get a picture of this" right after I started crying in the car and for that I am a little ashamed - but this is a project of my year and this has made an impact on my year already.

live and love

2007-03-31T08:38:00.000-05:00

The word "love" gets tossed around a lot these days. People "love" tv shows. They "love" their new Prada bag. They "love" their coffee. They "love" that new comedian...what's his name??? And I do it, too. I "love" jujubes and the garlic tofu dish at that Chinese place on campus. I "love" my soft green bedspread and I "love" when a book I'm reading surprises me and make me say, "(gasp), No!" I "love" my Convrese All*Stars and that kicky little skirt I found on sale. I "love" Reese's peanut butter cups. And I "love" my family. I truly do.

But, these two boys.

These two boys who live my house. The ones I make meals for, share toothpaste with, whose towels I wash. The ones whose messes I help clean, whose jokes crack me up, who pour out of the same juice carton as I do. These two boys whose tears tear my heart - they are a part of my everyday. They are the only other people I consistantly think about daily besides myself. I wonder what they are doing; I make plans for our weekends; I become a barometer for their moods and state of health.

These two boys know the intimate details of my life. They know when we need toilet paper or when we take shortcuts in cleaning the house. They know when one of us is hurting and taking it out on the other two.

These two boys - I don't just "love" them like some piece of chocolate that you can pick up for $.79.

I "live" them.

Day in and day out - they make my life.

ice rope

2007-01-21T14:13:00.001-06:00

ice rope
Originally uploaded by libraryann.

Last week was a strange one in Austin, Tx. It started sleeting and snowing and all activity came to a halt. Roads iced. Schools and businesses closed. Cameras came out.
I've seen more pictures of iced leaves, grass, and fence posts than I can count.
Now the temp has risen and we have been released from our iced vehicle cocoons. Those pictures and piles of damaged tree limbs piled on the curbs are all thats left of the Jan Ice Storm 2007.

Tuna in the year 2007

2007-01-13T18:56:00.000-06:00

Does anyone else think it is odd that my can of tuna fish doesn't expect to "go bad" until my son's 10th birthday? I'm almost tempted to keep it and open it on that day as a special treat. Sort of a time capsule, if you will. Who knows what the state of the oceans will be in 3 1/2 years? Who knows what conservation laws will be passed perhaps outlawing tuna fishing or somesuch. Maybe by then aluminum cans will be replaced with some miracle canning material of the future, polyester sacks or organic meat bags made of sheep bladders.
Of course, I can't keep it. I've already eaten it, are you kidding? When you have the magic combination of tuna, miracle whip, sweet relish and hard boiled eggs in the house who waxes poetic about the future? I had just enough presence of mind to get the camera out for this shot.

Migas

2006-08-12T22:23:00.000-05:00

For those of you poor souls who don't get to live in Texas - I'm going to post the best recipe for migas so you don't miss out on this taste of Tex-Mex. They are great anytime but I especially like them on Sunday mornings. Enjoy!

Amaya's Migas

1 tablespoon veg oil
2 cups dime-sized torilla pieces or crushed tortilla chips
1/2 cup chopped tomato (I like the small romas)
2/3 cup chopped onion (burmuda works for me)
1 jalapeno chile, stemmed, seeded, and chopped
2 eggs
1/2 cup Cheddar cheese

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat and saute the tortilla pieces or chips until slightly crisp, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the tomato, onion, and chile and cook for 5 minutes. Pour in the eggs and mix with a spatual, scraping up the eggs as they cook. When the eggs are partially set, add the Cheddar. Cover. Toss a few more times until the cheese melts.

Serves 2.

Walsh, Robb. (2004) The tex-mex cookbook: A history in recipes and photos. New York: Broadway Books.

My Age?

2006-08-03T14:37:00.000-05:00

I used to look 10 years younger than I was, now at least I'm supposedly living like I am:

You Are 30 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.

13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.

20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.

30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!

40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

Hey, it's on the Internet...it must be true!

Funky Monkey

2006-07-21T15:07:00.000-05:00

http://www.careerbuilder.com/monk-e-mail/?mid=7371252

A friend of mine sent me one of these and it's a good thing I wasn't drinking or driving (or drinking and driving!) at the time - major nostril snorting. I went through a period of about 3 days where I sent these to friends all over the country. The fun part is typing the words and then listening to the pronounciation.

These little monkeys won't censor you either. Go ahead, get angry, get dirty. It won't tip the tiara in the least.

Feeding the soul

2006-06-29T13:24:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting in my cubicle this morning getting ready for the 2nd bout of microteaching. Since the School of Information (used to be Library and Information Science) teaches a core undergraduate education course (children's lit) and pays for the professors the Education Dept have GRACIOUSLY allowed the TA (me) to have one of 115 herman miller cubicles in this vast (mostly empty) room on the education wing. It really is lovely and quiet a lot of the time.

Recently they have informed our Dean that I need to vacate by the end of August. I'm pretty sure they just don't want to share their space anymore and that it has nothing to do with my behavior....pretty sure.....
And so i am mourning the soon-to-be loss of a nice space where I can store all my crap.

In a somewhat nostalgic state, I got to looking at the quotes tacked up on my bulletin board. They are a few of the things that have struck me and so I stuck them.

Censorship causes blindness READ! -- American Library
Association bookmark (printed like an eye-chart with READ! really big at the bottom)

The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. --Eleanor Roosevelt. bumper sticker with her sweet face on it. http://www.peaceproject.com/stickers/genstickers.htm

Keep the faith Baby! (and)
Ann- Feed your Soul! You can't do this on your own. -- two handwritten notes from my friend Bob. He gave them to me in FL when my job was so bad.

She is too fond of books and it has turned her brain. -- postcard with wistfull girl looking off to the left. http://www.stellamarrs.com/catalog/detail.php?product_id=223&type=category&cat=5&offset=0

a handpainted rainbow from my son (then 2 1/2)

"If we don't beleive in freedom of expression for people we despise, we don't believe in it at all" - Noam Chomsky
"Restriction of free thought and free speech is the most dangerous of all subversions. It is the one un-American act that could most easily defeate us." - William O. Douglas (both on an ALA bookmark)

"Not rich enough for a tax break" - political button

hegemonic = predominant influence -- my own handwritten note so I would remember what the hell it meant.

"So committed are some survey researchers to the principle of consistency that they often assume that inconsistent responses undermine the "validity" of respondents' replies. But how can people respond consistently in a complex social order that is itself rent by contradictory expectations?" -- Sjoberg, William, Vaughn & Sjoberg, 1991 I copied this out of a paper for my SOC class. Apparently it spoke to me...perhaps in the context of the quantitative vs qualitative scuffles that go on here.

A little nonsense now and then is cherished by the wisest men. - Roald Dahl
a quote from my Zen a Day calendar from 2 years ago. The only one worth keeping. Boy was that a bad calendar choice.

What do these say about me?
I think they reflect some of my passions, some of my political leanings, some of my sentimentality. I'll try not to pack up the concepts when I pack up the scraps of paper for the move.

National Girl

2006-06-18T19:57:00.000-05:00

This is a map showing all of the states I have been through/visited.

Until I filled this out, I hadn't realized just how continental I really was. I guess I need to get myself to the SW, far NE and far NW and really round this life experience out. And sorry Nebraska and North Dakota - didn't mean to snub you!

I love that Alaska is "not in scale." It reminds me of the Steven Wright joke, "I have a map of the united states .... it's original size ... it says one mile equals one mile."

create your own visited states map

for more funny funny stuff from Steven Wright

Changes

2006-06-09T01:21:00.000-05:00

We are in the midst of some changes. Not only will my son be off to Kindergarten in just 2 short months, but his beloved teacher at the Child Development Center has decided to leave her job next week to take care of her family. She is a terrific person with the patience of a saint and the knack for getting the kids to untie their own shoes - imagine my surprise when I realized I was being played on that one! This was bittersweet news - now we would miss her sooner than later.

Last week, this wonderful woman informed the class (and then the parents since we are just the taxis, really) that she is expecting her first child. What a lucky lucky baby!

So, in the midst of our wrapping a good-bye gift for Miss J, we also picked out a few "baby" things to give her. T was very excited about the tiny socks, the softer than soft blanket, the bright orange wrapping paper. As he touched the blanket he said, "hey, maybe this will be the baby's Lovey!"

Now, Lovey has been in our family for at least 6 years. She had humble beginnings at a yellow cotton t-shirt that could be found in my drawer and that I wore with shorts and jeans. We all discovered her magic powers when T was 10 months old. We had flown all day to visit my mom in North Carolina and he could not get used to the new room, new bed, new everything at mom's. He just stood in the (new) crib and screamed. I was very tired and wearing the yellow t-shirt. Thinking that he might settle down if he had something of mine to cuddle with - much like a new puppy and a clock - I stripped off the t and handed it to him. I swear, he put it to his face, took a deep breath and practically fell asleep standing up. They have been inseparable since - occasionally to my husband's chagrin but he has his own "lovey" in that pack of cigs and we don't want to go there right now.

So my sweet child makes this observation that this sweet soft blanket might be good as a "lovey" and then stops himself - "Hey Mom, what if I give the baby one of my old t-shirts that doesn't fit me anymore so he has a "lovey" all his own?!" I agree that this would indeed be a unique gift so he runs to his closet, pulls out one of the shirts that is starting to get a little small in the shoulders and brings it out to wrap. He lovingly folds it, puts tissue paper around it, tapes the edges and writes "Lovey" on it. My child with his big wide-open heart is making sure that a tiny soul will be comforted through all the changes coming her way.

*************Later*****************
Instead of deleting this or changing the whole thing I'll just make an addendum.

T called me into his room after the reading and tucking and reading and drinks and tucking of the bedtime ritual with tears in his eyes. "Mom, can I not give the baby my shirt? I want to keep it" sniff, hiccup, tear, lower lip.
My response was to tuck Lovey up under his chin and say, "Of course you can keep that t-shirt. The baby will find plenty of "lovey"s of his own."
He exhaled, rolled over, put Lovey to his face and drifted off. Too many changes all at once, I guess.

Pushing it

2006-03-31T11:37:00.000-06:00

Last night I dreamed that someone was pushing me over and over. I woke up with my husband's elbow in that sweet spot between my lower back and right shoulder blade. I pushed it off and rolled over. 20 minutes later the alarm went off. As I slowly got out of bed (I've never been one to bound in the morning) I heard, "Why are you so grumpy this morning, Ann?" Now, nothing is more capable of making me grumpy than being accused of it - so I respond with impatience and grumpiness, "I'm not grumpy. I'm tired." Has he not met me?

Fast forward through my shower and I am getting breakfast for my 5 year old.
His hair is standing straight up and his robe is hanging off one shoulder. He decides that he must rearrange the creative little creatures he made last night before he sits to his toast and sausage. One of them refuses to hang on the back of the chair where he wants it. I bend at the waist and offer a suggestion of a modification for better hanging. I envision my own mother's earnest face peering down at me as a child - wanting only to help. I hear my own 5 year old voice when my son says, "No! Mom!" and he dissolves into tears.
I put my hand on his back and gently steer him to his place at the table and softly chide, "ok, Grumpy Gus, have a seat."
He looks me full in the face and says, "I'm not grumpy but you saying that I am, makes me sad."
How right you are, Little One.
I apologized immediately.

life goes by in a blur

2006-01-07T23:39:00.000-06:00

everything is bigger in texas

2005-12-28T23:47:00.000-06:00

Holiday wrapping

2005-12-23T22:24:00.000-06:00

Does this sound familiar? I spend actual time deciding what holiday wrapping paper to buy. I pick out bags of bows and different color ribbons to match the paper. Every year it seems so important while I am doing it in the store and about half way through wrapping gifts I realize 2 things: #1 - I now really hate the paper I've picked out and can't for the life of me see what I saw in it in the first place and #2- None of this from the picking out to the inevitable hating matters because it will all end up torn and wadded up in the trash anyway.

I used to wrap all of my stepfather's presents for my mother. When I came home from college for the holidays, I would lug my baggage up to the guest room and find a pile of lovely gifts in boxes and rolls of paper and tape near by. I would stay up late curling ribbons and creasing corners making pretty packages.

My brother used to pick one family member to buy a gift for. We never knew who it was going to be -I don't think he consciously planned it. He would spend some real money and end up getting the perfect thing for that lucky person: The thing you would secretly ask Santa for but never really hope for. That magic present would always come wrapped in the plastic bag from the store.

This year, my husband brought home 2 rolls of paper to do his own wrapping. He bought the exact same paper as the roll stashed in our closet from months ago. It is a superhero print so not exclusively holiday-esque but now it will be the dominant paper under our tree. Festive.

I have a friend who wraps all of the presents in her house - even those purchased for her. She says she doesn't peek. I believe her.

I guess I believe a lot of things about the holidays - even that the paper you pick does matter, even if only for a little while.

Lucky Day

2005-12-22T15:06:00.000-06:00

on the way to christmas shopping last weekend
I gave a man $2 for the homeless newspaper he was selling on the corner of the interstate and the main road. After he wished me happy holidays and I rolled up the window, my son said, "Mommy, is that man homeless?" The fact that my 5 year old knows that word is terrifying and sad and makes me so angry with the Reagan years.
I replied, "Yes, and we are very very lucky to have a home and food and each other."
He added: "and our truck."
Me: "yes."
Then he said, "What would someone do if they only had their car and no house?"
Me: "Then they would probably sleep in their car."
T: "Then what would they eat?"
Me: "Whatever they could find"
T: "We are so lucky...Mommy, why are you crying?"

The spirit of the season

2005-12-17T12:19:00.000-06:00

My son is beside himself about Santa. We had a conversation about him just 2 1/2 weeks ago. It went like this:
I was folding laundry and T was playing with the TV on. He just turned 5.
He says, "You know, Mom, some older kids don't believe in Santa Clause."
Without hesitation I said, "Well, they're wrong."
He put his hands out at his sides palms up and said, "I know. They are just thinking about Santa with their heads, not their hearts."
to which I said, "That's right. If you think about Santa with your head then you think 'How could he possibly get to all those houses in one night?' but if you think about him with your heart, you know he is magic."
He put his hands out again and said, "i know. Because your brain is only for neurological science."
(After i considered going to lie down) I said, "that's right" (wanting to follow it with "Where did you learn that?" or "Can you do my taxes?")
there was a pause and then he launched into
"What you really need to think of with your heart are those reindeer. I mean, how do they pull that sleigh behind them if the sleigh can't fly on it's own..."
and he started illustrating some high theory of physics with his hands about how the sleigh is always shown following right along but it should be more of a dragging straight upward if only the reindeer can fly and the sleigh can't.
oh
my
goodness.

Happy Holidays!

Keep it inside, people

2005-08-31T15:36:00.000-05:00

ok, this may not be suitable fare to read during lunch but when did it become acceptable to clip your toenails in public?! Did I miss the memo? I was taught that you did those personal things (by which I mean everything from scratching to nose blowing to undergarment repositioning)in your personal space AWAY from others. I would even lump touching up nail polish in this catagory - but will stop just shy of condeming lipstick/balm re-apps as Emily Post does - I do have a life.

But did it, at some point in our great cosmic coming of age, become permissible to clip one's toenails in public? Now granted, the incident I witnessed was at the local swimming pool where everyone is running around in scant clothing in the first place but this does not mean I must be privy to ALL of your secrets. I can handle the weakening elastic, the chlorine hair, the god awful I've-Been-to-Palm-Beach coverups but do not subject me to the toenails. I know they are there - just don't draw attention to them. Or subject me to potentially stepping on pieces of them!

As this has been an isolted incident (SO FAR!) I may be speaking too soon. It may have been one misguided woman (yes, a woman - you'd think she'd know better. Her mother would certainly have something to say about all this. tsk tsk) with little time on her hands to devote to her toes. Perhaps it was one unfortunate edge of nail that prompted the grooming and then she just figured, "oh what the hell, while i'm here..." Or perhaps she in fact did grow up in a barn and doesn't know any better. Whatever the case, I hope she hasn't started a new fad. I for one will keep my toe maintenance where it belongs - in the bedroom, in front of a good movie with cotton wedged between the toes until the polish dries.

unemployed

2005-07-18T19:27:00.000-05:00

4 hours after becomming officially unemployed, I sat on the couch hyperventilating and asking my spouce for reassurance.

I didn't just leave to be leaving - altho that would have been sweet! - I am on to bigger things. This thought did nothing to control the angst I felt at leaving my insurance and retirement plan and bi-weekly paycheck.

At least I won't have to eat my words anymore about what a pit my job had become and what sort of cheeseballs were running the place.
Now that is a swell diet.

PS 18 July 2005 Don't know why I didn't post this after writing it. It has been over 2 months now and I'm still finding myself able to stick to this diet. Once I am able to add a computer to the menu I hope to write more.

cowboys and indians

2005-05-04T18:42:00.000-05:00

Today is my second to last day at work.

My good pals planned a party full of my favorite pizzas and a strawberry pudding cake. It was swell. That Terri should open a bakery.

The kitchen and my desk were decorated with chili peppers, cacti and cowboy boots. On top of the cake: cowboys and indians poised for battle near a covered wagon a teepee and a cook fire.

Sometimes it feels like that at work. I envision us circling the wagons to prevent sudden attacks, stoking the fire to keep away the predators. Sometimes I feel we are on the outside, trying to penetrate the closed wagons - being kept out of the loop.

Why do adults continue to play the games they were taught as children?
And who decides who are the cowboys and who are the indians?

Hungry

2005-05-02T12:22:00.000-05:00

I am clueless when it comes to adult things.

I have friends who use their credit cards at will, always seem to know where to go to place an order (even in a new restaurant) and have the money to pick up the check.

These folks are savvy in the ways of the adult.
I must not have been paying attention when these skills were taught.

I find myself simply not ordering anything when we go out because I haven't checked to see if they take a debit card, can't quite recall how much money is in the account or don't want to order something bizarre like a chicken club sandwich with curly fries and salsa when everyone else opts for a vodka martini with an onion. Nothing like needing a napkin to wipe your chin when everyone else is a sipping sophisticate.

I rarely even eat while at parties with buffets. I can't seem to balance the plate/fork/napkin animal while carrying on animated conversation. Believe me, I've tried - someone usually ends up with sauce on their jacket or a close encounter with a cocktail toothpick. Or I am the unfortunate who decides to try the seaweed wrap and ends up with large green strings in my front teeth. These, of course, I discover upon returning home.

And so, I go to gatherings with large outlays of food and drink and I come home hungry. I end up making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the privacy of my own home and rinsing the jelly off my face while in my pajamas. The humiliation just seems easier that way.

book quiz results

2005-04-26T14:21:00.000-05:00

You're A Prayer for Owen Meany!

by John Irving

Despite humble and perhaps literally small beginnings, you inspire
faith in almost everyone you know. You are an agent of higher powers, and you manifest
this fact in mysterious and loud ways. A sense of destiny pervades your every waking
moment, and you prepare with great detail for destiny fulfilled. When you speak, IT
SOUNDS LIKE THIS!

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Handsome

2005-04-24T21:13:00.000-05:00

Went grocery shopping with my son yesterday. He eats in fits and spurts which I am to understand is normal for a 4 year old. Right now, he is eating.

He loves salad. I must remember to thank the school. We certainly don't eat enough salad at home for him to be a fan. I'm going to work on changing that.

So, we gather salad "fixins" and head to the dressings aisle. When I was a kid, I ate only French dressing. Every outing, every salad with a meal - French dressing. When I got a little older, I ventured to try my mother's Zesty Italian that she made from a dry packet and some magical ingredient (oil? water? what!) in the container that came with the packet. I later tried oil and vinegar because it seemed so sophisticated coming out of 2 glass vials that were then mixed together on the salad itself. And I could control the amount of vinegar! Then, voila, I realized that the special sauce on my favorite sandwich (the reuben) was Thousand Island. Yum. (I soon after realized that Thousand Island is ketchup and relish. yum?)

In my recent years, I've discovered Ranch. Put it on lettuce, carrot sticks, peppers...doesn't matter. I love the way it tastes, smells even the way it looks. I do believe that I have found my favorite dressing - finally.

So, in the condiment aisle we are confronted with 8 million choices for Ranch dressing (luckily it is my family's favorite flavor, too.) Staring out at me from the chest level shelf - Paul Newman. Yum. (and not just the dressing, if you know what I mean!) We put it in the cart.

"Who's that man?" asks my salad eater.
"That, my friend, is a handsome man."
"Did he make the salad dressing?"
"His company did."
"Is he a cook?"
"He is an actor...and a handsome man." (I couldn't help myself)

On the back of the bottle is a charming little story about the ranch recipe being part of Butch Cassidy's legacy, yadda yadda.

Later we found Paul, I like to call him Paul, on several different items - salsa, spaghetti sauce, popcorn. We didn't buy any of those but it did keep the conversation going.

(spaghetti sauce)
"Is he married?"
"Yes, to an actress named Joanne Woodward."
"Is she pretty?"
"yes"

(popcorn)
"Does he make movies?"
"Yes, pretty good ones, too"
"Have I seen any of them?"
"not yet"

(salsa)
"What else does he do?"
"He gives money to charity...and he is a handsome man." (it's a sickness, really)

Dinner was a success and lots of salad was eaten. It really is one of the best ranch dressings I've tasted. I think we'll stick with it. I hope my boy keeps eating healthy. He will be a handsome man.

You won't getting me to try Blue Cheese any time soon, though - I don't care who's on the label.

http://www.newmansown.com/

Low maintenance

2005-04-22T19:02:00.000-05:00

I called up a friend and we met at the beach our two 4 year olds in tow.

M.E. is an "easy friend" one you can talk to and listen to for hours. We talked while the boys played. We talked in and out of topics like the boys ran in and out of the water. We talked relationships, children, work, television. We talked of how we will miss each other when I move.

When we were all just about starving, we drove to the burger place and talked and laughed some more over burgers, fries and chocolate pie. The boys entertained themselves on the freshly mopped slippery floor. They glided gracefully into each other just as these two people glided easily into our lives.

As we drove home 4 hours later, my son said, "I miss Charlie." Me, too.

Food for thought

2005-04-21T18:48:00.000-05:00

I skipped lunch today.

I had to do a little creative scheduling to be able to pick up my son from school and still cover a storytime in the evening.

Luckily, he got "sick" and had to be picked up from school and I had to stay home with him. Parents are allowed to take sick leave to attend to their children. I also have a colleague who was willing to pinch-hit for storytime and so I was freed.

Once at school, I noticed a "Daily Wellness Log" and saw all of my son's classmates listed and a check mark next to days and times they are checked for temperature, etc. This seems like a good idea. Keeps the teachers aware and gives the parents a heads-up immediately.

On the way home, I asked him how the teachers check the temperatures. Do they put a thermometer in your mouth? Do they use the one that goes in your ear? Do they put that sticky thermo-tape on your forehead?

My son told me that his teacher places her hand on his forehead to "check if it is cool." The thought of someone taking the time and effort to perform this intimate act for my child daily was almost overwhelming. For a working parent, the word "caretaker" means so much. I realized fully what I had thought for some time: we have him in a good place with good people watching over him.

Because they do their job so well, I am free to do mine.

Last meal

2005-04-20T17:17:00.000-05:00

Went to lunch with a colleague, Maureen, today. She was on the original hiring team that brought me to this job and over the years has become a good friend. I have grown to admire for her outspoken ways and straight shooting mentality. Her opinions have been known to get her into trouble. They also usually instigate change.

We went to an Italian restuarant in Lehigh Acres (of all places) and sat in a booth near the window. She knew the menu by heart and suggested several dishes that were great. I toyed with the idea of the lasagna but in the end I choose the Cajun Scallops with angel hair pasta.

While we waited for our food, our conversation was easy and honest and full of laughs. We discussed ourselves, our colleagues, our thoughts, our futures. It will probably be the last time I see her since I leave in a few weeks.

Soon I had a big pasta bowl full of aldente noodles and fat scallops in a cream sauce in front of me. It packed quite a kick.

It was alot like Maureen - saucey, spicy and almost too much. I loved it.

Have it your way

2005-04-19T15:54:00.000-05:00

It was off to BK today. No, I didn't get the fish.

When I got out of the car the smell of grilled hamburger made my mouth water. I tried the Angus burger and was in for a treat. It is a big burger with bar-b-q sauce and onions along with the usual lettuce and tomato. I added cheese.

It was quite tasty.

The best part of lunch, however, was the service behind the counter. I did not order a value meal - I thought that with my rapidly approaching 40 body, not having fries was one very small thing that I could do for my well-being. Imagine my confusion when the set-up clerk asked if I wanted ketchup for my fries. "I didn't order fries." was my hesitant reply thinking that perhaps she had read my mind and was suggesting "but you really want fries, don't you? Have the fries!". She took a second look at her order screen and then looked to the order clerk. They both burst out laughing because the latter had pressed the value meal button by accident. I got the impression that she was having that kind of day. I had already paid for the thing so laughing I said, "sure, I'd like ketchup."

While mistakes are not particularly fun, this one certainly wasn't a big deal. What made it memorable was the genuine camaraderie of the employees and the good natured ribbing that went into the exchange. I was happy to join in their laughter.

The fries were perfect, golden, uniform in size and (as it often is with things) something I didn't even know I wanted until I had it.

Bigger building

2005-04-18T16:35:00.000-05:00

I am changing careers. Same field, new direction.

I am leaving a job that is headed for changes in its own right and I am only slightly of two minds about that. It was an attractive offer: new building, promotion, team of my choosing. I used to be excited about the changes but have seen some of them already and am over that now.

Except for one thing. The new building. I will be leaving before the move. I will not see the new building finished.

But I knew I could do something about that, too. I called the Project Manager and explained my situation. He invited me over for a tour.

I took my lunch hour and drove to the site. The ceiling tiles are half in, most of the light fixtures are in and working. The windows are in and the walls are up but the drywall and paint and floor coverings have yet to be finished. For some reason this 40,000 square foot buidling looks smaller than I imagined.

I had been living and working in this building for the past two years in my head. I had furnished it with desks and books and kids running. It had puppet shows and computers and program displays. It had friendly staff and happy patrons and brand new books. It was beautiful. It was bigger.

I drove away from the site tour feeling less sad than I thought. I drove away from this "big" building and on to bigger buildings of my own.

From Russia with love

2005-04-17T18:56:00.000-05:00

As a mother, I find myself doing things I never would have considered before.

One more day at the beach and my son is making friends with the boys on the next blanket. They become totally occupied and so their mom and I begin to chat. She and her husband have just moved here, have purchased what will be their "retirement house" and have these 3 kids under 7. They are all, she tells me, adopted from Russia.

The morning has passed and still the boys are busy busy but the 2 year old needs a nap. We call the boys in and start brushing off the sand. Her oldest asks if we can come to their house for lunch - without hesitation she asks us over. My response takes about 2 seconds longer and surprises me: sure.

So we pack up our treasures and head over to a neighborhood we never even drive through - much less visit. We round the corner, looking for their van and pull up in front of a mammoth house that sits on a corner lot of an intersecting canal, it has a circular driveway and impeccable landscaping - we are looking at 3/4 of a million dollars, easy.

How am I going to feel at ease in an environment so foreign to me? I must remember to take off my $1.98 SprawlMart flipflops before I walk on the plush carpet. Should I remind my offspring to chew with his mouth closed? What am I doing going to a complete strangers house for quesadillas and grape tomatoes? Why was I so quick to commit the next 2 hours of our day hopping in and out of their jeweltone pool and playing fetch with the dog?

My questions are answered when we get out of the truck and kids and dogs spill out of the front door with arms open wide for a little boy they met 3 hours ago but already love.

Apple of my eye

2005-04-16T15:48:00.000-05:00

Spent the morning on the beach. My son and I dug in the sand, waded in the water and made a temporary friend out of the 3 year old next to us.

We pack a couple of sackfuls of stuff every time we go: a large bag with dry towels (at least 5 if just the 2 of us are going), a small bag in the large bag with clean dry clothes, a mexican market bag of sand toys (buckets, shovels, dump truck, the usual) and a cooler with water, juice, fruit snacks and an apple.

Yes, an apple.
We have discovered that the sweetest thing (literally) that we do together at the beach is eat an apple. We take turns. We discuss the size of our bites, where they have come from, we even sneak two bites in if we can't help ourselves. Neither of us minds. We eat the whole thing - except the seeds. We bury the seeds under the sand, mark it with an X and dream about an apple tree someday springing up on the beach. Then we would have one less thing to pack.

Pizza/no pizza

2005-04-15T13:18:00.000-05:00

In general I love the Fridays and Saturdays I work. The people I work with on those days are lucid and rational and, I'll just say it - sane.

Usually we all chip in and order pizza from a "bistro" down the street that one of my best friends introduced me to (I wonder if she misses Pizza 2000 since she moved away?) The pies are excellent - just like my staff on these days - spicy, delicious and more than a bit cheezy. When the pizzas come into the building, the patrons are jealous but these tasty treats are just for us and we gather around the tiny kitchen table (in shifts) and eat and talk and feel like family.

We'll miss out on pizza today. Everyone seems to have an appointment or no cash or leftovers that must get eaten. But we will still have a good day, it's not the pizza that makes us family - it's the people.

fish wish

2005-04-14T14:29:00.000-05:00

today, today, today is Thursday and I work late.

And so, like so many Thursdays before, I went thru the drive-thru at the nearest BK and ordered the "Fish Sandwich with sauce only and a medium orange soda". Is it bad that the guy working the window recognizes me by my voice and order? Is it troubling that I have my $3.91 ready before I even leave the house? I mean, truly, I'm not crazy, I like to mix it up now and then - I sometimes order a medium cherry icee.

And, come on, what's with the fish? It's not Friday, I'm not Catholic. Maybe subconsciously I figure I need the "brain food." Or given the state of my current worklife - there is nothing subconscious about it.

For example: Why would someone who has their 1040EZ all filled out and done need, NEED, NEED to have the AARP folks e-file it on the last day of tax help in the last 1/2 hour of their appointments? When this person does not have an appointment! These poor imminently helpful tax people have been showing up here since February and taking appointments for 4 hours a day and have to deal with the lucy-come-latelies in the final hours!

Why not just stick it in an envelope, stamp it and mail it off? I mean, the form is already filled in for goodness sakes!

whatever. He should have had fish for lunch.

Chunky

2005-04-13T15:34:00.000-05:00

lunch box

Well, today it was Chunky vegetable soup and some goldfish crackers. How old am I anyway? Perhaps it is comfort food because I am working in an environment that is not too friendly. It used to be a group of people working together but is now several groups of people working around each other.

New people in, old people out. You take things (people) at face value until you get burned and then start to build walls. Some call them cubicles. I call them defense mechanisms. Chunky defense mechanisms.

They get the big con going on and you think it is all charm and fun and then whammo! He said, she said, you did, did not, what do you mean? shape up! arg

so did I bring the soup to drown my sorrows? maybe it was all I had in the cupboard.

This Lunch Box

2005-04-12T15:12:00.000-05:00

Is it what I'm eating or what's eating me?

Bothering me today is a tiny piece of frayed dental floss that has caught underneath my crown. This tiny piece of plastic string feels as big as a sailor's knot.

I managed to get an appointment with my wonderful dentist this afternoon but of course this plays into my lunch plans. Do I eat the pork chop and broccoli I brought for lunch and risk catching even more crap in the nooks of my molars or do I forego a meal and have a rumbly tummy all thru the proceedure? Regardless, I do not have a toothbrush with me.

hmmmmmmmmm, I am hungry.