burning karma...

mike birbiglia is sexy and manly...

2008-07-21T12:31:00.006-05:00

The interwebs is apparently much smarter than me. Let's be honest, though. Most days I can't even remember to put my soda can down to the right of my computer. Yes, I am right-handed. I, for some reason however, insist on putting it down to the left of my computer. No, I don't understand it either, and yes, I do know that's where the fan output is on my laptop. That's my point. If I had a dollar for every time I have gone to take a swig of Diet Pepsi, only to find it's been heated to a temperature just shy of "Holy shit!", I certainly wouldn't be sitting here writing this blog. I'd be, well... doing something else with my $20.
On a related note... Starbucks: There is no need to test market the Steamed Diet Pepsi in poquito, venti or grande. I've done the field research. It ain't gonna sell.
Anywho, I recently learned there's some super secret stalker spy software out there that tells people when something has been posted about them or their company. This was the only rational explanation I could figure when I was contacted ON MY BLOG by the Customer Service Director of vitacost.com, and not via email, as I had expected, after I sent the same letter I posted here to them directly through the fancy "Contact Us" form on their website. (NEW Karma Burning Award: Longest Run-On Sentence in a Post That is Really NOT a Run-On Sentence!) As a matter of fact, I never did hear back from anyone at vitacost.com other than my new BFF Jason. (Waves to Jason!)
What does ANY of this have to do with Mike Birbiglia, you ask?
While I fully suspected this devil-ware existed, it was recently confirmed while reading Mike's Secret Public Journal. Apparently tired of Googling himself (is that even possible? I live to Google myself... if that's what we're calling it these days), Mike found Google Alerts. And he wrote about it. That brings me to this tale.
I have had a crap storm following me for the past several months. Every time the clouds seem to clear--nope. More crap. I feel like Forrest Gump... "One day it started raining, and it didn't quit for four months. We been through every kind of rain there is. Little bitty stingin' rain... and big ol' fat rain. Rain that flew in sideways. And sometimes rain even seemed to come straight up from underneath." It's like there is no escape.
This is a sucky place for me to be, because I very much believe we create our own experiences. If I'm stuck thinking, "Crap, crappity, crap, crap!" all day long, I'm bound to bring more, "Crap, crappity, crap, crap!" into my life. The problem here (which I have yet to bypass) is the whole Whatever-You-Do-Don't-Think-About-A-Pink-Elephant-With-Purple-Polka-Dots Phenomenon. Try to not think about something, and that is all you'll be able to think about! This, my friends, is where Mike Birbiglia comes in.
I turned 37 on Saturday. That should be awesome, right? I was going to have a big party and everything. It was to be the first of three "Countdown" parties... Three! (37), Two! (38), One! (39)... BLAST OFF! (40)! Great idea, right? (Word of warning--if you steal this idea and DON'T invite me to your party, I'm sending Biggie Smalls to haunt your bathroom. For reals.)
Here's the thing, though. It's hard to plan a party when you're covered in crap.
So, instead of hanging out with all my friends, celebrating the big day and "counting down", I laughed. I don't know why I decided on the anniversary of me gracing this world to finally check out Mike's Secret Public Journal (because I've been a Birbiglia fan for a llllloooonnnnngggggg time), but I finally did. And I laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more. Suddenly thinking about what a rapist's bed would look like made it a lot easier to stop thinking about crap.
If you, too, are caught in a crap storm (and even if you're not--lucky bastard), I highly recommend the Birbiglia Umbrella. You heard it first here. Mike Birbiglia is my umbrella. My sexy and manly umbrella. S'manly?
Rumor is he's already shot a pilot (the TV kind, not the felony kind) for CBS's fall line up. I'm hoping with fingers and toes crossed that it gets picked up. Word is I'm a shoe in to play his wacky next door neighbor/on-again-off-again love interest. I'll be the Maria-Bamford-meets-Rose-from-Two-and-a-Half-Men character with the kookie blonde swish at her bangs. Look for me.
(...moves Diet Pepsi can to RIGHT side of the computer.)
What I like most about Mike is not that he's funny (and trust me... he's hys-frickin'-TERical), but that he's real. This is a guy you want to hang out with and add to your Christmas card distribution list. He loves his family, he loves his friends, and he loves his fans. When there seems to be a veritable plethora of over-confident, not funny, mass-marketed comics out there who have forgotten who got them where they are and what made them funny in the first place, Mike is a BirBeacon in the fog, reminding us all what it is to laugh. For that, sir, along with all the aforementioned, I thank you.
And Mike, if you somehow managed to make your way here and read through all of this, I kept my word. That makes me more reliable than Jesus.

dear vitacost.com...

2008-07-01T17:14:00.002-05:00

I purchase Burt's Bees products for many reasons, but chief among them is the fact that they package in glass or 80%+ post-consumer recylced plastics. I was extremely disheartened to see three of my Burt's Bees products packaged for shipping in an excessive amount of plastic bubble wrap, of course defeating my efforts to reduce my plastic use. Most disturbing is the fact that BOTH bottles of toner I purchased, though packaged separately, arrived with broken lids and had leaked inside the plastic bubble bags. That means this huge amount of plastic waste didn't even do the job you were intending it to do!

For a company who specializes in alternative health care and natural products, it would seem you would institute more sustainable practices in your shipping. I, as well as many others, I'm sure, would be willing to pay an additional charge to have my purchases shipped with natural or bio-degradable packing supplies. I hope this is something you will take under immediate consideration.

I contacted Customer Service already regarding the broken caps on my toner bottles, and the representative I spoke with indicated she would have two replacement bottles sent out in the morning. I'm sure they'll come swathed in plastic, but I hope the day will come soon when my natural products will arrive in natural packaging.

Thanks for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,
Christina Something Something

planet earth...

2008-06-20T18:55:00.001-05:00

I try to focus on the positive in all I do. Some days that is easier than others. I've felt overwhelmed lately by the clouds of negativity and "Dooms Day" thinking that often seem to accompany greener living sites. This video was perfect for putting things back into "Christina" perspective. Enjoy...

mother's little flickr...

2008-06-11T01:56:00.005-05:00

Collin decided to play too... I love it!

In case there's any need for explanation:

Your name: Collin
Favorite food: Meat (As he pointed out, this photo was a DOUBLE bonus, because it is actually a cake decorated to look like meat--cake and steak all in one!)
High school: Homeschooled
Favorite color: Green
Celebrity crush: Mrs. Doubtfire (I spend my nights lying awake in bed, just wishing that this kid had some semblance of a sense of humor...)
Favorite drink: Gatorade
Dream vacation: Greece (Good call, dude!)
Favorite dessert: Tartufo
What do you want to be when you grow up? A stationary box (Just kidding... my baby has his sights set on Intelligence Recon as an officer in the USMC!)
What you love the most in the world: America (I'm sure he really meant to use this photo.)
One word that best describes you: Kickass!
Your Flickr name: metatag

Finally proof that the nut doesn't fall too far from the tree.

flickr of hope...

2008-06-10T22:10:00.004-05:00

I'm honestly not one for blog "tags"... usually they're pretty goofy, but more often, pointless. This is not to say I haven't EVER done one. This is also not to say that I won't do one again. And of course, there's this one courtesy of my very good friend Erin at Going Green, who did not actually "tag" me and has absolutely no idea who I am.

Wanna play? Here's what you do:

Go to Flickr Search and type in each of your answers to the below list of questions.
Pick an image from your results--use only the first page!
Enter each of the photo URLs into the bighugelabs.com Mosaic Maker. (Note: You will first need to change your mosaic dimensions to 3 columns and 4 rows... or vice-versa if you just like being different! You non-conformist, you...)

And here are the questions to answer...

What is your name?
What is your favorite food?
What high school did you go to?
What is your favorite color?
Who is your celebrity crush?
What is your favorite drink?
How about your dream vacation?
Favorite dessert?
What do you want to be when you grow up?
What do you love most in life?
What one word describes you?
Enter your Flickr user name (or your online alter-ego if you have no Flickr!).

A word of caution because I love each and every one of you with every ounce of my being and wouldn't wish MY initial experience with this little project on my worst enemy. I might, however, wish it on the bitch who almost rammed me with her cart trying to leave Costco the other day. I wasn't aware we were racing. That's another story for another day, though. On to the "word of caution":

If one (or four, in my case) of the photos you select for your mosaic have been designated "Not Available" by the "owner" of said photo for use in Flickr third party applications, you will end up with a blank spot (or spots-see above) in your mosaic. Should this happen to you, for Vishnu's sake DO NOT hit the back button! You will find that your (presumably significant) investment of time has been wiped away by bighugelabs.com without so much as the tiniest thought for your feelings (and no kiss after being f#(ked, either). Instead of risking heartbreak (and the future usability of your computer), I recommend copying each of the URLs you select BEFORE hitting the "Create My Mosaic" button. And after copying them, I also recommend actually PASTING them somewhere, or you'll end up like I did after mosaic attempt number 2 (still not successful, and not surprisingly, still no kiss). I'm really beginning to re-think my friendship with Erin. (Mental note: Find out if Erin was at Costco last Thursday afternoon around 3:30pm.)

Then came attempt #3.

(Insert drum roll here.)

Now for MY results:

1. Christina, 2. Indian (the image I really wanted to use was "not available" to bighugelabs.com for Mosaic Maker-ugh.), 3. Paint Branch, 4. Blue, 5. Jeffrey Dean Morgan (because nothing hot came up when I entered "Dwayne Johnson"... And because using "Shakira" or "Sara Ramirez" might reveal more than I want it to...AND because ohmygod, didn't you just LOVE him as Denny Duquette?!? And even moreso as the {other} Irish hottie in P.S. I Love You?), 6. Green Tea (because only crappy images come up when you enter "Diet Pepsi"!), 7. New Zealand, 8. Chocolate Mousse, 9. Private Investigator, 10. Family, 11. Compassionate, 12. beautiful epiphany .

I showed you mine. Now you show me yours.

PS--If I were the kind to go around giving myself awards, I would totally christen the crap out of this entry in the "Most Links in One Post" category. I so rock. Just ask me.

the eco-freak within...

2008-06-03T14:35:00.005-05:00

A crazy lady has taken over my house.

She goes around screaming things like, "Who threw this away?!?", and, "Why do they even give us recycling bins if no one is going to USE them?!"

I'm not sure she has a search warrant for her "Trash Police" raids on our garbage bins.

Did I mention she follows us, too? Even when we're at other people's homes, she demands to bundle up all the compostable discards during our visits so she can carry the crap home. Can you believe this bitch?

She canceled the newspaper, demanded I stop buying paper towels AND (rumor has it) there's apparently a lot more to come! She won't take plastic or Styrofoam "to-go" boxes at restaurants and somehow feels comfortable asking for a piece of foil instead. This chick gives new meaning to "high maintenance"!

Despite my insistence that she keep her hands off my toilet paper, I caught her at my sewing machine the other day experimenting with "family cloth", which she insists would only be for Number 1. When will this madness stop?

I'll tell you when... when someone pries the most recent issue of Mother Earth News from my cold, dead fingers.

good charlotte...

2008-05-20T10:34:00.006-05:00

Several months ago, we opened the big slider door to the screened back porch and enjoyed the fresh air for a while. Later that evening I was watching TV and took a quick potty break. As I walked through the kitchen and into the little vestibule where our bathroom is, I was surprised to find some new wall art! On the arch of the entryway, just like she belonged there, sat this beautiful bright green lizard. She had clearly viewed the open door as an invitation into the house.

A quick chase ensued, with me eventually winning (I think!), although by this time, the little anole was scared witless and covered in fur discarded by the dogs and cat who live here, which apparently accumulated on her during her frantic escape attempt. I washed the little beauty gently under the spray faucet and placed her in the aloe plant outside my back door.

I would have put her in the screened room again, but I feared two things: 1) her eminent demise at the paws of the cat, and 2) her not getting enough to eat. To my surprise, she made her own way back to the screen room. That was evidently right where she wanted to be, despite the risks of thing 1 and thing 2.

My little friend and I have had quite the relationship these past few months. During my brief visits to the back porch, I would see her cautiously watching me and studying my every move lest I decide to bathe her again. On one occasion, I screamed frantically as my Big Boy tried to make an appetizer of her, and several weeks ago I bought her flies and mealworms when she appeared to be getting too skinny. A few days later, I noticed her looking happy and healthy again. Whether it actually had anything to do with the flies or the mealworms, I'll never know.

I went out to water plants earlier today and found my friend, clearly distressed, on the floor of the porch. I tried and tried to save her, but she died in my hands a short while later. Here my heart is, aching for this poor creature, frustrated not to know why she had to go, and lonely at the prospect of not seeing her again.

In a modern day twist on an old literary classic starring a spider and a pig, she appears to have left me a gift before her passing... or more appropriately, two. There, in the corner where I would normally find my friend, are now two little miniature versions of her. While I never got around to naming their mom, I already know what to call them... Thing 1 and Thing 2.

everybody loves the 80s...

2008-05-14T21:17:00.001-05:00

hey mamas...

2008-05-10T18:06:00.002-05:00

And anyone with a mama...

It has been way too long since I've pumped out any new art, but that doesn't keep me from stalking my favorite artsy websites.

One of my favorite how-to sources is Lisa Vollrath's Go Make Something. Her Ten Two Studios site always has cool stuff, too.

Lisa will frequently offer these awesome free image downloads for different holidays, and Mother's Day is no exception. If you've always wanted to try altered art, but weren't sure how to find images, check out her current giveaway.

If you're quick, you can even put something together to give mom tomorrow.

why i heart publix...

2008-05-09T13:43:00.003-05:00

Is it wrong to love your grocery store?

I just ran up to to grab some lunch, and of course, forgot to take my reusable bags. I picked up a few more while I was there (I needed more bags anyway) and headed to check out.

The clerk rang up my bags first and handed them to the bagger. Take notes, Target Girl! Then, to my amazement, she handed me a small square window cling TO REMIND ME TO BRING MY BAGS INTO THE STORE WITH ME!

Oh, Publix. Get out of my head!

and i... i took the one less traveled by.

2008-05-09T05:11:00.000-05:00

This coming Monday is the Buddha's birthday. It also marks the beginning of a journey for me.

I'm shaking things up and turning things around.

This blog has always been a mish-mash of random thought-clearing and tales of the day-to-day. It has also served as a road map of sorts... recording where I've been and where I'm going. That is not going to change. I am, however, going to focus more on where the path is leading me now.

Right now it's leading me to bed... I think I'll follow.

...green alert.

2008-05-08T20:15:00.004-05:00

We have been running around a lot lately. A lot.

Unfortunately, that has meant a lot of meals at places that we really should not be eating. Today, however, we decided to stop sprinting about for a bit and actually sit down to eat. Not in a car, either.

It was during our loverly, leisurely lunch that I had an idea. Sitting in the lounge area of our local Chili's provided just the opportunity I've been hoping for. I recently started harassing my friends to gather wine and liquor bottles for me. I plan to use the bottles to edge a huge flower bed I'm working on in the backyard (to disguise the dog poo composter!).

The problem is, I'm very much an instant gratification kind of girl (I know, I know. I'm working on it! I promise.), and the idea of having to work on this project bit by bit is killing me. Do you see where I'm going with this? Maybe Chili's will let me take some of the bottles they otherwise send to the recycler!

There was just one problem with my perfect plan: Chili's doesn't recycle their glass. I found out after talking to the manager on site that although they collect the glass bottles seperately, they're thrown into the dumpster with all of the restaurant's other trash.

The good news in this is that even though he's "not supposed to" save bottles for me, he will. He just asked me if I could come up on both Saturday and Sunday mornings to collect the weekend party crowd's castoffs, which of course I am more than willing to do.

What's bunching my panties right now though is the thought that this is just one little restaurant, in a huge chain of restaurants, in a massive industry of waste. The idea that these companies are not recycling on even a minimal level is jaw-droppingly shocking to me.

I plan to do something about this. As soon as my garden bed is complete.

my how they grow...

2008-05-07T13:01:00.003-05:00

I was at the hospital today for some routine tests, and directly across from me in the waiting area sat a brand new momma and her four-weeks-old-tomorrow baby girl.

I watched with awe as that precious little bundle worked away on her pacifier. Her features were so perfect... and so tiny. While I was studying her, she was intently memorizing every inch of her young mommy's face, and her little hand was molding itself around mom's pointer finger.

Did that take me back.

I truly remember holding my brand new baby boy like it was yesterday. I loved the way the side of his little head fit perfectly against my chest, with his head nestled snugly under my chin. In fact, I'm pretty sure he spent the better part of his early childhood in that position. I loved the way he smelled. I loved the way he looked at me. I loved the way he would hold my pointer finger just like the beautiful little baby across from me was doing to her momma.

Fast-forward sixteen years, and here I am now, sitting in the passenger seat while he drives us onto 295 and over the Buckman Bridge. Yesterday I waited while he got his braces taken off--for the second time. This Friday night I'll sit proudly in the audience while he makes his improv debut at a local nightclub. Monday I'll ride with him to his first class of the Summer A session at our local community college where he is a dual enrollment student. I'll listen intently at some point soon when he tells me the latest information he's found out about joining the Marine Corps. It's all part of the bittersweet moments of being a mom. They don't stay in your arms forever.

Just your heart.

momma's got a brand new bag...

2008-05-06T23:48:00.001-05:00

I think I am leaving the high-paying world of homeschool mommery for a new profession as an author.

My first book title came to me today. Coming soon to the NY Times Best Seller list near you: "Don't Wear Your Nose Ring to a Pulmonary Function Test" and Other Pearls of Wisdom for Aging GenXers.

There will probably be a chapter on how it's not cool to say "Grody to the max!" anymore and another on why low-rise jeans should be left to the GenNexters.

I'm clearly still working a few things out. Perfection takes time, people.

...the chicken came first. it's official.

2008-05-06T03:45:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite new reads is Crunchy Chicken's blog. I have spent the past several weeks reading through her old posts in an attempt to get as up-to-date on her world as possible. I am a big "Comments" reader, too, so this was no small task!

Since secular issues are such a big part of my world, I began to wonder where Crunchy and her faithful readers fall on the belief scale. I guess it goes back to my "labeling" issue! For whatever reason, though, this query began to nag at me more and more. Mind you... it wouldn't really change anything for me to know someone was Christian, Hindu or Atheist. Like many other things that needle away at my mind, this was just a curiosity; not a necessity.

Lo and behold, I checked in with the Chicken today to find she had received my telepathic message! It made its journey all the way from sunny Florida to crunchy Seattle!!

I'm giving her query some thought, and I'll be penning my own response: "Do your religious views (or lack of them) directly drive your desire to limit consumeristic desires in your life?"

on a related note...

2008-05-02T23:58:00.003-05:00

As previously mentioned, I frequently (re: always), forget to take my reusable shopping bags into the store with me. After today's infamous Kohl's trip, we headed to Target.

We were only picking up a few things, but we had enough on our list that I knew we'd fill at least a bag or two. With this in mind, I grabbed two of the Target reusables and added them to the cart.

While we were checking out, I was distracted by the electronic payment pad (WHY can they not standardize these things?!?) while the clerk did her thing. I looked up just in time to see her putting the last of our items into plastic shopping bags... including the reusables!

As politely as I could muster, I asked her if we could instead put our stuff into the reusable bags. She happily obliged and then put the discarded plastic bags into her trash.

Some days you just can't win.

kohl's hates the environment.

2008-05-02T22:42:00.000-05:00

OK, not really. But I have your attention now, right?

My efforts to live a greener life have definitely changed my way of thinking about certain things. One of these "things" is trying to eliminate plastic shopping bags from my world. While I have surprised more than one clerk with my request to not use a shopping bag for my purchases(eventually I will remember to actually take my reusable bags into the store with me when I shop!), I have never had one flat out refuse me. Until today.

Collin and I were out running errands, and one of our tasks was to find him some sleep shorts and a lightweight blanket for his bed. We headed to our fancy new Kohl's to see what we could find, and a bit later we headed for checkout with two pairs of jersey shorts and a microfleece blanket (already conveniently packaged in a plastic bag).

As I paid for our items, I told the clerk I wouldn't need a bag. She looked at me like I was nuts, and then informed me that she had to put my items in a bag. I questioned this by saying, "I have to take a bag, even though I don't want one?" She again informed me that I did.

Keep in mind... at this point I am standing less than twenty feet away from the exit. I have a receipt in my hand. While she agrees to sticker the blanket, I have to take the shorts in a bag. I relent and leave the store.

If you've ever been to a Kohl's store, you know they have two entrances. We had parked near one entrance and exited via the other. While we walked back to the car, I found myself getting more and more irritated that I had to take a plastic bag. Instead of continuing to the car, I walked back in the other side of the store.

I asked the clerk if I could talk to a manager. She was already waiting on a call from the manager for an issue at her register (that's a whole other post!). The phone rang and she proceeded to describe Situation #1 to the manager. She added before hanging up that there was a lady there who wanted to see her. I offered an explanation, saying I wanted to speak with her about why I had to take a plastic bag when I didn't want one. Situation #2 was relayed to the manager thusly: "She wants to know why she can't have a plastic bag anytime she wants one."

I kid you not, I had to re-state my complaint three times before it was translated properly to the bodiless manager.

She responded that I shouldn't have to take a bag if I didn't want one but that this was something she'd have to research. The clerk I was talking to told the manager this was an issue that needed to be addressed staff-wide, because she had previously helped customers who didn't want bags either. I am supposed to check with the manager on duty next time I go in to see what the final verdict is.

For anyone who thinks I made a mountain out of a molehill, here's my take on what went down. I was not at Dillards or Sears, or any other type of store where I might make a purchase and continue to walk around the shop. I was going to pay for my stuff and walk directly to the exit. I even asked if I could put the shorts in the zippered bag the blanket came in. No. I had to take a Kohl's bag. They don't sell Kohl's reusable shopping bags, so I couldn't purchase one of those to put the shorts in.

To the clerk's benefit, she saw this as a security issue. Loss Prevention officers might not know that I had actually paid for the items I was leaving the store with. If I choose not to take a bag, and a security guard approaches me about exiting their store with merchandise in my hands, I am going to be more than happy to show said guard my receipt and cooperate with whatever they feel they need to do (within reason, of course) to feel comfortable with the fact that I am not trying to rob them blind.

Anywho... for a company on the EPA's list of Top 10 Retail Partners in the Green Power Partnership (they're ranked at a VERY impressive #5), I was more than surprised by this incident. I'll definitely be checking back in with the management to see what the official stance is.

Stay tuned.

please don't.

2008-05-02T22:38:00.004-05:00

Let's, for a moment, forget how wildly inappropriate a cross would be at this point for anything commemorating my life. Let's also not put any energy toward my demise. You know... power of intention and all that.

BUT, I think we can agree that the time will inevitably come when my precious life force will cease to bless this planet. All I ask is when that void occurs you not "honor" me on the back windshield of your car.

There are plenty of things I see on a daily basis that befuddle and confound me, but as of late, none perplex me as much as the plethora of the In Loving Memory of...'s gracing rear car windows from here to Kalamazoo*.

If you happen to have one of these, or have any understanding of why someone would even want one of these, would you please give me a call? I would love to actually understand this phenomenon.

I do not really want to use the phrase "cheapens the memory of" in this post, but it's hard not to. What is so special about plastering a loved one's name, date of birth and date of death in adhesive vinyl on the side of your car? I know we all grieve in different ways, this just seems like such a burden to bear... every single time you get in or out of your car. Plus, they always bum me out. Especially when I see a really fresh death date.

When you want to remember me, go to the beach and listen to the gulls. Or check out when a sea turtle nest might be hatching, and go help the little buggers make their way to the sea. Hell... tip back a margarita while listening to Buffett or Marley, preferably someplace warm and sandy. You do have to call it a "Stinarita" when you order it, though.

If you must, go ahead and sticker me up. I can only hope it will be on your hybrid.

And I'll thank you in advance to not ask me how window-cling headstones differ from memorial tattoos. I haven't quite figured that one out yet.

*Editor's note: I have not actually traveled to Kalamazoo lately. And by "lately", I mean ever. That's what we writers call a "literary device"**.

**I think that's what it's called. If you're a real writer, smile smugly to yourself if I'm wrong and get on with your day.

...green is the new black.

2008-05-01T01:24:00.002-05:00

If you haven't heard, I'm going green.

And a little crazy on the way.

I have friends* who felt it necessary to shake up my comfortable way of living and perpetual state of ignorance by recommending several "crunchy" blogs they read. They had no idea the beast this would awaken.

As I write this, there's a show playing on TV called "Wa$ted", where the host and her do-nothing side-kick confront people about their carbon footprint and then offer them tips on how to reduce their eco-impact. I'll leave out the part that the host is incredibly annoying and horribly inept at pretending to be Carrie Bradshaw for their cleverly titled debut episode, "Sex and the City". The tips they're offering are pretty run of the mill, but it's cool to see others engaged in the same pursuits I'm following.

In the past month, I have added two composters to our home: one for food and yard waste, the other for dog poo. I also found an awesome little stainless steel canister for my counter top top that holds my compostable kitchen waste until I can take it to the outside.

I switched from using a roll of Viva every two-three days to using cotton bar towels and 7th Generation paper towels for those times when only a paper towel will do. Two weeks later, I'm only halfway through the roll.

I double-checked the list of what we can recycle in our county and found out there was stuff we've been throwing away that can go to the recycling center.

I have stopped depending on plastic shopping bags and either use reusable bags, or take my purchases without a bag.

I ran out of shampoo and conditioner this week, so I replaced them with Burt's Bees' much more eco-friendly Pomegranate and Soy products (I tried unsuccessfully to find the shampoo bar). While they still come in plastic bottles, these are 50% PCR (Post Consumer Recycled plastic). The company has a goal to be at 100% PCR packaging and 100% natural products by 2020.

I also began honoring my inner Diva. (If the fact that diva is capitalized means something to you, then you know what I'm sayin'...)

Adding these changes to the stuff I was already doing is only the beginning, I'm sure. Day by day, change by change, it will all make a difference. I'm afraid I'm just getting started... and that is not an apology of sorts but a genuine expression of fear about where life is taking me right now!

*Italicized for no other reason than that the jury is still out... trust me, they are wonderful, amazing and kick-ass women, but I may well end up naked in a corner, rocking myself back and forth, wracked with guilt over the state of the planet.

the following takes place in the comfort of my family room...

2008-04-28T01:38:00.002-05:00

Ask anyone who knows me, and they will tell you there are two certainties about Christina: 1) I sleep like a baby, and 2) I keep my finger on the pulse of America.

Because I am on the cutting edge of all things pop culture, I have started watching TV's brand new phenom: 24*.

I'm no expert, but I think Fox may be on to something here.

*I live in my own special world where 2001 and 2008 are practically interchangeable.

...a difficult lesson to learn.

2008-04-24T22:38:00.002-05:00

There are many things in life that I have a hard time accepting.

Right now my challenge is understanding that we each choose our own path in life.

How do I stand back and allow someone I love very much follow a path that is not just out of my neighborhood, but completely off my map?

the long road back...

2008-04-20T00:34:00.005-05:00

Last night with friends we talked of burning bridges. I don't mean thoroughfares over waterways engulfed in flames, of course. I'm talking instead of the decisions we make in life where there is no going back. For whatever reason, and in whatever way, we not only closed a door behind us, we nailed it shut, double-bolt deadlocked it, threw the keys out the window in the middle of no where, and erased all evidence of a path to or from said door. It's done. Over. The fat lady has sung. You get the picture.

What if we want to go back though?

I shared yesterday that I'm now officially a published artist (depending on how loose your definition of "artist" is). What I didn't share, is that I got published as punishment.

The article my artwork is featured in is called, "Share, and Share Alike". The author interviewed my once very good friend Marina Lenzino, owner and designer of Cherry Pie Art Stamps, about the art of swapping art. Several years ago, Marina started a Yahoo group for her customers. Before long, the group started setting up formal swaps. If you've never swapped anything before, the concept is pretty straightforward.

A swap host will come up with the guidelines for the swap. Based on how many spots are available, others will sign up to participate, and then everyone gets to work on their swap items. For instance, I actually hosted the swap that I made my published piece for. It was a Valentine's Day swap, and at the time Target was selling these awesome decks of heart-shaped playing cards. I bought several sets and sent each player 11 cards to use as the base for their submissions. Each participant was instructed to make 11 identical but original pieces and send them back to me by a set date. I then took all of the cards and sorted them into sets so each player would get back one of each of the other players' submissions, along with one of their own. To make that swap extra special, I actually compiled the pieces into key-ring books for everyone. (That should help explain the errant hole punched on the upper left side of my "Hearts are Wild" piece.) Once all the books were made, I sent each player their completed masterpiece. These swaps are really a lot of fun, and I am the proud owner of some amazing pieces of art thanks to the many swaps I have been able to participate in.

If you happen to actually get your hands on a copy of RSM and actually read the article, you will find the following sentence after Marina's description of how swaps work: "The important thing with all the swaps is that she (the host) sends the entries back!"

Aha. THIS is why I am published.

This saga will continue after a requisite amount of sleep. I need it before I come clean with my confession.

i'm officially a published artist...

2008-04-19T01:43:00.002-05:00

I returned home tonight after an awesome day spent with friends and reluctantly checked the mailbox before heading inside. Much to my surprise, there was a thick white envelope bearing the return post of Rubber Stamp Madness. RSM, as it is affectionately known in the stamping underground, has been around for almost thirty years chronicaling the world of, you guessed it, rubber stamping. Back when I used to care, I submitted four or five pieces that I was incredibly proud of for their consideration. RSM gladly returned them to me in my reluctantly provided self-addressed-stamped-rejection-letter-container-resembling-an-envelope (SASRLCRAE). The expeditious rate at which they completed their round-trip vacation only added to my humiliation.

So you can imagine my surprise, all these years later (OK...two to be exact!), to receive this package emblazoned with the words, "Thank you for your contribution!". Fortunately, I didn't have to flip through too many pages before I saw a very familiar piece featured on page 14.

This is incredibly cool but also bittersweet. More on that twist of fate tomorrow...

memoirs of a cartman...

2008-03-25T14:33:00.004-05:00

I hate finishing a good book.

I know that is kind of the point, right? I mean who picks up a book with the intention of only reading half of it? And for the sake of argument, here, I'm not talking about those books you pick up, read a few pages of, maybe even a few chapters, and then never return to again because there was nothing really there to return to. I'm talking about the books that keep you up until 4:57 am because there hasn't been a break in the story where you are actually willing to close the book covers and get under the bed covers.

That's how I felt at the end of The Outsiders. And again at the end of The Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. And most recently, at the conclusion of Memoirs of a Geisha.

I'm not big on reviewing stuff, mostly because I generally set a pretty low bar for entertainment (which could explain my unnatural obsession with a blogger named Brendon and perpetual fourth graders), so I'm not going to drone on and on about why you have to read Memoirs. I will tell you, however, that I found it to be amazing.

What are YOU reading?

tides of life...

2008-02-17T14:30:00.006-05:00

on and on
the rolling tide
moments ebb
and flow away
ten years
or yesterday?

when lost is found
and up is down
will time stand
idly at bay
ten years
or yesterday?

suns will crest
moons have waned
currents pulse
i'm left to say
ten years
or yesterday?

i'm just here for the booty...

2008-02-15T23:23:00.000-05:00

moar humorous pics

dear mr. president...

2008-02-15T01:10:00.001-05:00

Hugs and kisses,
Me and Pink

yes we can...

2008-02-14T22:40:00.002-05:00

alone in the wild...

2008-02-04T22:58:00.002-05:00

My son and his friends are awesome... what a proud momma!

one year in a thousand...

2007-12-12T03:04:00.000-05:00

One year ago, right this very minute, I was in the emergency room closer to death than I could have imagined. One year ago, my life changed. One year ago, I had no idea I would be so different a year later. One year ago, I got a second chance. One year from now, I hope the changes are even greater--and better--than I can now dream.

hail mary...

2007-09-03T16:18:00.000-05:00

by Owen Holmes, Folio Weekly (Reprinted here with permission from the author)

A LOCAL PUBLIC-SCHOOL FOOTBALL TEAM GETS SOME RELIGION--LIKE IT OR NOT

Nothing like watching "The Passion of The Christ" to get pumped up for the big game. According to concerned parents of players on the football team at St. Johns County's Bartram Trail High School, head coach Darrell Sutherland has showed scenes of the Mel Gibson crucifixion flick during a "team meal".

That hasn't been Sutherland's only form of proselytizing. According to parents and players, Sutherland reads Bible passages aloud during practice. He prays before meals, instructing players to bow their heads. In the locker room, he lectures them on working as hard on the field as God wants them to. He fully expects players to attend church "as a team" and be active in the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, and explicitly criticizes those who don't. He even voices his disappointment in players and families who hit the local Beef O'Bradys for Monday night football and chicken wings, because the restaurant serves alcohol.

More egregiously, parents say, Sutherland promotes only players who exhibit his own religious convictions while holding back those who don't.

If you want to be looked on favorably and be considered as a star player, there's and unwritten level of expectations that the coach expects you to participate in," says one parent, referring to involvement in FCA and church attendance. (The mom asked not to be identified to protect her son from [divine?] retribution.) "If there's an athlete that has the potential to go to the next level, and that player doesn't meet the expectations of the coach, he won't be recommended as much to colleges and universities." The mom says the team members have even been encouraged by a visiting scout to become involved in FCA in order to have the coach's blessing.

"There are all different religions on the team, and he preaches just his," says one player. "We have a lot of kids who are Jewish."

The parents of "easily a dozen" players are worried about Sutherland's religious demands, according to one parent. But with a new football season underway, those concerned declined to be identified for fear their kids would be further penalized."

Several parents share my position--our rights are being violated. But when one attempts to speak up on the issue, the child receives retaliation or [Sutherland] makes a point of bringing it up to the students," explains one parent. "We know it's wrong, but everyone's afraid to stand up."

Sutherland, a 36-year-old who's been at Bartram Trail since 2000, did not return phone messages over the course of two days. The coach's personnel file includes glowing reviews from supervisors, as well as letters of recommendation from colleagues testifying that he's of "extremely sound and logical judgment," "will never hold a grudge" and "a man of strong Christian faith who can let his actions be his witness."

The file includes no formal complaints regarding Sutherland's religious practices; parents contend that Bartram Trail principal Brennan Asplen and their area's St. Johns County School Board member, Beverly Slough, have ignored their complaints. (Biographies for Asplen and Slough on Bartram Trail's website and the School Board's website, respectively, note their involvement in church; Slough is married to the pastor of Switzerland Community Church.) When contacted by Folio Weekly, Asplen's secretary said he's out of the state for the week; Slough did not return two calls to her cell phone.

According to the St. Johns County School Board Rules Manual, the district forbids discrimination or harassment--including "verbal conduct" that "shows hostility or aversion"--on the basis of religion. The code also specifically bars retaliation--"any form of intimidation, reprisal or harassment"--against those who complain about such infractions. Penalties include termination, the manual states. Superintendent Joseph Joyner did not return calls, although two secretaries promised he would.

The silence on the issue at all levels only compounds the frustration with Sutherland's proselytizing, a ring of complicity that's galvanized "the Julington Creek Bible Belt", according to one concerned parent, who emphasizes that there are players of disparate religious faiths on the team. (And that parents are required to sign releases in order for their kids to see PG-13 movies in school; "The Passion of The Christ" is rated R.)

"I'm appalled," the parent says. "The athletic department of Bartram Trail High School is out of control. It is a public school that is performing as a private Christian school."

quiet too long...

2007-06-03T12:31:00.000-05:00

I have remained quiet for too long. I chose to walk the middle road. I chose to bite my tongue. I chose, for way too long, to sacrifice myself in the name of not rocking the boat. I'm done being who everyone else wants me to be. I'm done caring what others think of me. Staying quiet changed the world around me. Not in control over my own environment, I destined myself to live a lie. I let others decide what I would say, what I would think, what I would believe... not because I was weak, but because I was too strong. Too strong to question faith... too strong to consider those I was surrounding myself with... too strong to be seen as weak. But growth is not a weakness. Being true to yourself is not a weakness. Choosing to be surrounded by positive, uplifting and intelligent people is not a weakness. What I thought was strength... THAT was a weakness. Taking back me has required more strength than I ever imagined I had inside me.

Here I am, like it or not. I'm speaking up and speaking out.

a reminder to me...

2007-03-19T18:28:00.000-05:00

Start it; you don't have to be fancy.

Keep moving; you don't have to go crazy.

Visualize; you don't have to admit it.

See the end result; it doesn't have to be material.

Expect miracles; they don't have to be huge.

Pretend you've arrived; you don't have to dance on tables.

And above all else, Christina, have fun. This is why you started it, right?

Life, what a trip -

The Universe

P.S. Okay, okay, Christina, they can be huge and you can dance anywhere you like... but you might skip the tiny tutu.

Get your own Note from the Universe here.

the universe hates me...

2007-03-08T20:19:00.000-05:00

Somebody out there hates me.

I just realized how my next few days will be progressing.

Even if I try REALLY hard, the earliest I am usually able to go to sleep is around 3am. That's if I've been running around all day, accomplishing all kinds of tasks, expending all available energy reserves and basically playing Superwoman. I haven't done shit today.

The problem with this is we have work men scheduled to be here throughout the day tomorrow. Framers are coming to fix the creaky floors on the second story, plumbers are coming to install a new toilet, electricians are coming to fix our outdoor outlets, and drywall people are coming to see what it will take to fix the bulge in my bedroom wall. Why all the activity? Our home warranty expires in about 22 days.

Construction folks don't keep my same schedule. I know. No one keeps my same schedule! The framers are supposed to be the first to arrive tomorrow--sometime between 8:30 and 9am. This is a lie. None of these guys ever come at the time they say they will. If they say they'll be by first thing it the morning, that means 7:30am to them... 8 if you're lucky. There's no WAY they're waiting until 9am to get started. My guess is they will be here at 7:42am. Again, that's just a guess.

The plumbers are due to be here between 12 and 3pm. In "home improvement speak", I know that translates to, "We told your builder we'd be there in the afternoon. That's just when we'll actually call you and tell you we need to reschedule for Monday."

I can't bust on my electricians at all. They've been the only sub-contractors through this crazy, ridiculous building-a-house ride to be on time, able to fix what they came to fix, every time. They're supposed to be here between 1 and 3pm.

That means I'm going to get maybe four hours of sleep, my whole day will be consumed with waiting for or putting up with subs, then there's the doctor's appointment 45 minutes away at 4:30pm, followed by dinner with friends at 7. Dinner will be a blast... but we will be out L-A-T-E. I can sleep after that, though, right? Nope. My niece has a soccer game at 8:30am Saturday
and then we're all going to breakfast. We'll be done with family duty just in time for me to come home and start cooking for Bunco Mardi Gras night! Then it's off to party again... That will be another late night adventure. You would think now I could finally get some rest, but through no fault of my own, I'm going to lose an hour's sleep courtesy of Daylight Savings. I know there's something Sunday, too, but my brain and body can't take any more right now.

I can't imagine having much time to write the next few days. Just keep me in your thoughts and hope I don't lose it all from lack of sleep. Heaven knows, I don't have much left to lose...

Last but not least, while I'm running myself ragged, you should too: How to go crazy in one easy step. (Get all the boy frogs to the right side of the rocks, and all the girl frogs to the left side. To start over, click the red arrow. To save yourself the headache, don't follow the above link.)

can't we all just get along...

2007-03-08T01:23:00.000-05:00

So I recently fessed up to fudging time stamps on my posts... that will make this update a tad awkward. I swear though there was no manipulation done on the original date and time of my most recently completed masterpiece.

I am prematurely defending myself because I read several eerily similar posts and comments today that fall right in line with my thoughts on who I keep tabs on and why. Summer's post from yesterday (that I just read tonight) was about cyber friends; who do you count among yours and how did you meet? Then on Andrew's blog, one of his ~~regular readers~~ friends, Cheryl, posted the following: "You've been a busy writer. I've seen your comments as I've been blog-hopping tonight. It's a nice community we're a part of, huh? " It's like something was telling me to hurry up and finish the damn post already.

So, it's out there now. For your perusal. Enjoy.

talk about seeing the world in a whole new way...

2007-03-06T01:41:00.000-05:00

I know, I know. I don't write for weeks, then I put up eight thousand posts in two days. Keep scrolling down the main page even if you checked in recently--I finally finished a "50 things about me..." post that I'd hate for you to miss. It should only take an hour or two to make your way through... damn I'm wordy.

I had to share this link, though. Talk about thinking outside the box... I have no idea now how I got to this site, but I am stupefied by this guy's ingenuity.

que pasa a la casa de stina...

2007-03-06T01:39:00.000-05:00

There's been a lot going on around here lately, and not much at all. How does that happen?

Tuesdays with the girls has continued to be a success. Last week found me not wanting to cook, so we ordered pizza instead. I love my girlfriends. I hope they feel the same way. Even if I don't call them as often as I should. I better start thinking about tomorrow night's dinner...

Bunco was postponed due to a scheduling conflict, and then pushed back again due to a strep outbreak at the hostess' house. I think we were all willing to forgo a lengthy illness in the name of missing rolling some dice. I'm totally stoked for the next round, though. We're doing a Mardi Gras theme... which will be a little weird now that we're getting closer to the holiest of holy days, where we honor the blessed St. Patrick with lots of kissing and green beer. We have to do the Mardi Gras theme though... I ordered two damn boxes of beads for this shin-dig! Somebody is going to celebrate friggin' Mardi Gras. And they'll look fabulous doing it.

Collin finally decided to go get his Learner's Permit. Regular readers, if I even have any, will remember we started this little adventure back in December with my son's 15th birthday. Fear kept him from jumping in with both feet and heading straight for the DMV once he completed his Drug and Alcohol course. Finally deciding enough was enough, Collin told me last Sunday night he was ready to go test. The first appointment we could get was Wednesday afternoon, but we were there with bells on and birth certificate in hand. He's only been driving twice, both times in mostly empty parking lots. He is doing a wonderful job thus far. My Acura has super-sensitive brake and accelerator pedals, so that's added a bit of a challenge to the learning. He said the thing that surprised him the most was that the car would move even if he wasn't pressing the accelerator. This is something it never would have occurred to me to tell him. Now I know. Tomorrow's the big day to try real road driving for the first time. Nothing too stress inducing... just driving us out of the neighborhood to the main road. If I survive, I'll report back with an update.

a new kind of crazy...

2007-03-06T00:19:00.000-05:00

Is it just me, or is there a whole new kind of crazy out there these days?

Stephen Grant, pictured above, has been arrested for his wife's murder and dismemberment. He has fully confessed to his crime and detailed how he buried parts of his wife's body in a local park. When he found out search teams were going to be in that same park the following day, he kindly went out there, retrieved her torso, and put it where it rightly belonged. In his garage.

In Texas, a seventeen-year-old was arrested recently after police confiscated a stolen video camera from his home. In the camera, they found tape of said seventeen-year-old making his two and five-year-old nephews smoke a joint. It's lovely footage... he sweetly lights the marijuana cigarette for the two-year-old and laughs coyly as the boy stumbles around the room. I mean seriously. You can't trust a two-year-old with a lighter. The five-year-old appears to be a pro at puffing the chronic. Clearly Uncle Responsible has lit it up for this kid before. Un-f-ing believable.

Remember the best friend who carved her BFF's fetus from her belly to claim the baby as her own? It was hilarious. She also killed her friend's three older children and stuffed them into a washing machine. I'm sure she just wanted them to be with their mother.

Then there's Michael Devlin from my home state of Missouri. You can imagine my pride. He kidnaps little boys and sodomizes them for fun. He even managed to get one of his victims to stay with him for four and a half years. He couldn't have been all bad for the kid not to leave, right? Threat of imminent death if the boy tried to escape couldn't have had anything to do with the kid's decision, could it?

Michael Jackson sleeps with little boys and talks about it like it's perfectly normal. A NASA-f'ing-astronaut puts on a diaper and travels 900 miles to Florida to kidnap and probably kill a woman because some married dude she's not even having an affair with likes the Orlando chick more than psycho-astro-nut lady. There was a father arrested recently for repeatedly using a stun-gun on his eighteen-month-old son. Another father hit his daughter on the head and then left her outside in the snow in single-digit temperatures until she died. This same model citizen is also being charged with sexual assault against another child in the home.

What the hell has made its way into our drinking water?? Where are these people coming from? Has stuff like this always gone on and we're just now being bombarded by these stories because of the internet age and instant access to news? Has society changed to the point that we need to hear this stuff to reassure us our lives aren't that bad after all? What happened to our values? Why don't neighbors look out for each other anymore? Have we really gotten that callous? When was humanity devalued to the point that it's easier to strangle your wife and hack her into pieces than say, "Hey, this marriage thing isn't really working out for me. I think we need to contact attorneys."

Crap like this is why I don't watch the news. I need to put myself on an "internet news" diet, too. I'd rather be blissfully ignorant about current events than have atrocities like these needling away at my soul on a continual basis.

I've gotta go un-wind.

speaking of train wrecks...

2007-03-05T02:36:00.000-05:00

I'm working on a post titled "train wrecks...". It will be a fascinating little ditty showcasing my commentary on some goings-on of late.

In the meantime, I found a "train wreck" of a whole other proportion. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Ms. Sondra Prill...

50 things about me...

2007-03-05T02:20:00.000-05:00

1. I would give everything I have to a friend or family member who needed it.

2. I would NEVER accept, or even consider asking for the same in return.

3. I don't think anyone knows the real me. That includes me.

4. If I could have one hour back in my life, I would spend it talking to my dad. About everything. And I would hold his hand the whole time.

5. I believe in things a lot of people roll their eyes at... like "signs", guardian angels, spirits, "The Secret" and an innate good in people.

6. My husband bought me a sweeeet coral pink Nintendo DS last night (now we all have one--DSes, that is. Mine is the only pink one...), and I am totally addicted to it already.

7. When I grow up, I want to be a Private Investigator.

8. My guilty pleasures in life include "South Park", "Dog the Bounty Hunter" and celebrity gossip.

9. I think I was black in a past life.

10. Despite usually saying the opposite, I have a strong desire to have another baby.

11. I would definitely consider adopting an older child.

12. In a perfect world, I would be living in Costa Rica or Belize, or on a Caribbean island somewhere (probably St. Maarten... it's a short commute to Saba) working to preserve our coral reefs and eating spiced bread, cheese and mangoes for breakfast.

13. There are very few male celebrities I find attractive... Dwayne Johnson and Howie Long top my rather short list, with Jason Statham and Channing Tatum pulling up the rear.

14. I have she-crushes on Shakira and Sara Ramirez.

15. I was born and raised in Kansas City, Missouri, and moved to Silver Spring, Maryland when I was fourteen.

16. I spent every summer of my life in New Jersey, trading time between Plainfield and Long Beach Island, until I graduated high school. I lived in New Jersey for about a year when Collin was 4.

17. I have lived in Florida for ten years now. I will NOT move north. Only south from here, baby...

18. I no longer have any connection to my dad's side of the family. I think I'm finally ok with that. They're all strange anyway. What bothers me is to know that my dad would not be ok with it.

19. I have a little brother who lives in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, with his wife.

20. My sister-in-law is of Indian descent. She and my brother were married in a civil ceremony last year. We are going to their Hindu wedding this August. It will be my first experience wearing a sari. I am most looking forward to the henna party.

21. I listen to (and love) all kinds of music. Jimmy Buffett and Bob Marley are perennial favorites, with 80's/early 90's dance and hip hop always a good alternative. I listen to a lot of classic rock and 80's metal, too. When I'm alone in the car and thinking things out, I either turn the radio off, or switch to the country station. I have listened to country music my whole life and always find comfort in it.

22. My first concert was Willie Nelson. I was in the fourth grade at the time and couldn't understand why my mom wouldn't let me wear my t-shirt from the show to school the next day, just because it smelled a little weird. I now know that smell was all the doobie smoke in the air that penetrated the cotton fibers of my kick-ass baseball jersey style tee, with Willie's goofy face on the front and all the tour dates and cities listed on the back. I wore the shit out of that shirt.

23. I love live concerts. I have seen Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Genesis, U2, the Beastie Boys, the Eagles, Jimmy Buffett, Garth Brooks, Alan Jackson, Toby Keith, Montgomery Gentry, Leon Redbone, and NSYNC all up close and in person. I also saw Katrina and the Waves, but come on... how could I put them in the same list as the Eagles?

24. I will never spend another cent again on Montgomery Gentry, or their music.

25. I do not shop at Walmart. Gross abuses of eminent domain laws, exploitation of their suppliers, their racist, sexist and ageist hiring practices, and the general assumption that Satan himself has to be behind their ridiculously low prices all factored into my boycott decision.

26. I get quiet and keep to myself when I am overwhelmed.

27. I hate pickles on a sandwich, coffee, olives, black licorice and beets.

28. I am in love with Pottery Barn sheets and won't buy anything else for my bed.

29. I am afraid of heights but love to fly.

30. I want to get my nose pierced on the left side. I have personal as well as aesthetic reasons for this desire. Once pierced I plan to wear a very small ball or diamond stud.

31. I am totally obsessed with tattoos, but I do not have any of my own.

32. When I get my first tattoo, it will be on the back of my neck. I want the Chinese symbol for double happiness, but you can bet I will check, and recheck, the artwork so I don't end up here. I want the symbol done in the style shown on the first frame of this artist's gallery, so that it looks like true Chinese brushwork calligraphy.

33. My second tattoo will be on the back of my right shoulder. It will be an image of Kwan Yin, the Buddhist goddess of mercy and compassion, done in all white ink. You can see a similar tattoo here, at the top left.

34. I am married and will be celebrating my fifth wedding anniversary this fall.

35. I have a fifteen year old son who I adore beyond all words. He is home schooled because I grew very sick of the public school system that emphasized FCAT scores above actual learning. I want nothing more for him than complete and total happiness and unbridled success. He has a much better opportunity for those things now than he would have in the public school system. He is also free to be who he wants to be, not who kids he would be forced to spend eight hours a day with want him to be. Some would say I'm sheltering him, or am over-protective. They would probably be correct. I make no apologies for protecting my son from drugs, school violence, and a culture that glorifies promiscuous sexual activity.

36. If you're good at math, and hopefully even if you're not, simple addition/subtraction skills probably led you to the conclusion that chances are good my husband is not my son's biological father. Good deduction. My son's father lives in New Jersey, and Collin visits him twice a year. We met in college. We were never married to each other but are both married now.

37. Are you really still reading this stuff? I want to see the Northern Lights before I die. This will be my one, and only, willing foray into arctic conditions.

38. I would rather drown than freeze to death. That given, I'd rather drink at a Tiki bar somewhere sunny than drown or freeze...

39. I still consider my best friend from high school one of my best friends... but it's been about two and a half years since we last spoke.

40. I have always felt more comfortable with my guy friends than I have with most of my girl friends.

41. I almost instantly regret the comments I leave on other people's blogs. I always thought I was a pretty decent sentiment-expresser, but when I re-read the blog comments I leave, I immediately begin to feel like the dorky girl at school who never quite got it right when she'd try to talk to the cool kids.

42. I don't go to sleep until about 4:00am. I don't wake up, unless I have to, until sometime between 10 and 11.

43. I frequently change the time posts on my blog entries in a feeble attempt to hide #42.

44. I am really ready for a vacation. There's a cruise out of Puerto Rico that has my name all over it. A different island every day... mmmmmmmmmmm.

45. My entire house is decorated based on eastern feng shui principles. Some people consider feng shui a load of crap. All I can say is I have seen amazing changes in our lives since incorporating feng shui into our living space. I hired a consultant specializing in the Compass School (luopan) to map our floorplan and make recommendations. I have added to her ideas using many of Lillian Too's interpretations.

46. I have lost 40 pounds since July. Most people ask if I've done something different with my hair.

47. I am really craving Chinese food right now. I used to eat Chinese food two or three times a week. Then I found a roach in my lo mein. COOKED in my lo mein. It had the sauce on it and everything. It was twirled into the noodles, looking out at me from the end of my fork. At the time I'd already eaten most of my dinner... without bothering to look at it before shovelling it in my mouth. Don't worry. If there were any others in my food, they came back up in a matter of seconds. It took me a good eight years before I even thought about Chinese food again. Hmmm. My craving seems to have dissipated.

48. I worked for eight years in law enforcement. During that time I was Intern Coordinator for a major metropolitan police department, a 911 call-taker and dispatcher, a desk officer, and crime analyst. I have also been a bouncer, pre-school teacher, nail technician and PR/marketing specialist. I sold home alarm systems for a while, too.

49. I love reading conspiracy theories. There are some I think have more merit than others. I do think our government is capable of things we can't even begin to imagine. Tattoos, piercings, feng shui, spirits and conspiracy theory stuff aside, I really am a pretty sane person. I promise.

50. The things about me that are not on this list are probably all the things anyone would really want to know. Sorry.

**Thanks to AbbaGirl for introducing me to this concept... I'm glad I only had to come up with 50!! If you read this whole post, you probably are, too.

the thin line...

2007-03-05T00:38:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted recently. I know this. No promises are being made to do so more faithfully, mind you. Just stating the obvious.

I do have a reason, though. As of late, all of the time I used to spend writing, I now seem to spend reading. There are some fascinating people out there blogging about their daily ins-and-outs. I can't seem to get enough.

I will freely admit that after checking my email accounts and making sure the world isn't coming to an end, I head directly to 4th Avenue. I find Andrew absolutely intriguing. He is a fabulous writer. I envy his dialogue writing style. My memory is too shot to make a success of such prose. More important than being an incredible writer though is the fact that Andrew is an awesome story teller. His interesting band of cohorts gives him plenty of fodder for blogging, to be sure. He doesn't just tell you about these people though... he makes you see them. You can hear their words, in their voices. He describes even the minute details of his surroundings. Sometimes his descriptions are so vivid I feel like I'm standing by his side--sharing the experience... like the Alabama sunrise just breaking the horizon, or the southern bar-be-que he downs at one of his favorite local haunts. Andrew writes about his demons, too, which I find so unbelievably noble. Struggling with schizophrenia and alcoholism, he sometimes waxes poetic over his homeless days. His candor is raw and can be unnerving at times, but he is living proof of the indomitable human spirit within us all. Flawed though he may be, he understands the path he needs to follow and does what he can to stay on track. Andrew's recovering now from a rough patch in the road, but he has this amazing community of blogging friends who were there to pick him up when he had forgotten how to find his own way. Paying the piper can be a bitch, but I know he's going to come out better for the experience on the other side. He's too amazing not to. (By the way, did I mention his photos? My only complaint about Andrew's photography is that he seems to have slacked off a bit as of late. His photos tell stories all on their own...)

I found Andrew one night by clicking the little "Next Blog" tab at the top of my Blogger screen. I had no idea the new world I was opening up by that one little move of the mouse. I mentioned briefly the blogging community that regularly checks in on Andrew and his hijinks. By clicking a few links on profiles for those commenting on 4th Avenue posts, I was taken to tons of other blogs... each one more interesting than the one before it. Some people I clicked on because I liked what they said in their posts. Others I checked into because their screen name or avatar piqued my curiosity. I was seldom disappointed. I was quite often astounded. I can't believe the diversity and talent among the world of online bloggers. It seems everyone has something fascinating to say.

I am completely enthralled with Austere's blog, AustereSeeker. My favorite posts are when she writes like your senses would take a scene in. There are the sights... the sounds... the smells... the chaos... the beauty. She has amazing insight and makes for a wonder-full read. I love the way she responds to her comment posters, too. And I love that she comments on my blog. All I do is read words she puts onto a computer screen. I'm half a world away. She, however, makes it seem like we're friends sitting on opposite sides of a table at Starbucks. Be sure to check out her other blog, Roughpad, too. Full of creative writing pieces and poetry, it shows how truly talented she is. I'm glad I don't get charged by the visit. My PayPal would be bottomed out by now. "Delightful read" doesn't begin to do Austere justice. Reading her words is more of an "experience". I can't wait til she posts again...

Andrew led me to Abba Girl, too. I love reading her posts about work and travel. She seems like someone I would be friends with in the real world, so why not in the blogging world? Reading at the Wheel leaves me feeling like I'm having a great phone conversation. I don't get to do much of the talking, mind you, but she calls me sometimes, too, and returns the favor. I keep my blog reading to a pretty small, selective group, so blog-wise, I guess you could say I don't get out much. AbbaGirl's post titled "50 Things About Me" was the first one I'd seen of such a nature. I loved reading her list so much, I knew I would have to do a post of my own. Mine is a tad more verbose than hers, and by "tad" I mean my tome vs. her summary... but that's how I roll. Abba is a wonderfully giving person. She cares deeply about the friends she has made online, and it shows. I count myself lucky to know she checks in here on occasion.

I found Summer at the intersection of 4th Avenue and Madison Street. I spend time at least once a day now checking in to see what's new at number 107. Her blog's subtitle reads, "When Summer was fun." I would proffer that Summer's a riot. No longer working outside of the house, I truly enjoy reading about the shenanigans she deals with at work. Stories of Dr. Browneyes and Ms. Percocet make me wish--just for a split second or two, mind you--that I had a crazy office to report in to on occasion. Then I wake up. I'd much rather read about her crazy exploits than have to endure some of the stuff she goes through. Like the whistling. Lately I've enjoyed her soul bearing posts about her grandfather and the amazing account of her son's birth. A lot of the best reading on Madison Street is in the "Comments" sections of each post. Summer has a loyal band of ~~readers~~ friends who clearly care for her deeply. It doesn't take much digging to figure out the feeling is mutual. Reading for the first time made me think, "I'd love to be part of this." So I uncharacteristically burst into the room and commented right along with the best of them. Hopefully it was a welcome intrusion...

I wanted to start stalking Tina, just like the rest of the free world, apparently. It would have involved emailing her to find out where she's gone now, though, and mine are pretty big, but they're not titanium plated yet. In the meantime I just have to wait for her to post again on Summer's blog. Maybe someday she'll send the link all on her own... (hint, hint Tina.)

Another member of the M STREET CREW is AC. She claimed recently to know not what she did/does to warrant a spot on my "who i'm reading" roll, so allow me to extrapolate. AC loves vintage photos. She has one attached to each of her posts. I love vintage photos. Most of my art features vintage images of some kind. AC lists her location as "Western What the Fuckistan, FL". I swear to God I wish I had thought of that first. I usually list mine as "Southeast of Disorder". Most endearing, however, is the fact that she hearts things. I heart things, too. (In fact, when I found AC, I had a saved entry I was working on called, "things i heart..." . After I read her blog, I didn't want to be accused of copy-catting her clever catch phrase, so I never posted it.) I enjoy her tales of el Capeetan, Nigerian stalkers, and life in general. Plus, she sees dead people. Does it get any cooler than that? It may be just me, but I suspect she knows quite a bit. She's apparently having a rough go of it lately and hasn't blogged in a while. I know I'm not alone in hoping she gets back to posting soon because I heart checking in on Western What the Fuckistan...

It's a thin line that separates us all. Someday I hope to be able to thank Andrew for the wide little world on the web he opened up for me. Maybe I just did?

nah nah nah nah... hey hey hey... goodbye...

2007-02-20T02:46:00.000-05:00

This is John. Waving goodbye. To me. And every other moderate who held out hope for change.

Say it ain't so...

You just blew it, dude. Your only hope was the Democrat, Republican and Independent moderates who have been aching for the candidate we thought you were. Do you honestly think the right-wing Christian conservatives of the Republican party are going to give you a second look?? How quickly the memory fades...

ain't love grand...

2007-02-19T23:47:00.000-05:00

My fixation of late has been relationships... and the MANY different forms they take. I marvel at who thinks they're fooling who... who gets along perfectly when it seems like they should be lining each other up in sights... what we tolerate in the name of love... the things we want desperately but simultaneously refuse to give... holding on when we know we shouldn't... letting go when we're not ready... the secrets we'll keep... the ones we won't.

The complexity of the "dance" keeps us sane and drives us mad.

bye bye pretty baby...

2007-02-08T23:35:00.000-05:00

I can't say quite why, but my heart hurts over her loss. Rest in peace, beautiful Anna. May you find in the next life what always seemed to elude you in this one...

praise the lord and pass the ammunition...

2007-02-06T23:34:00.000-05:00

Good news, people. Three weeks of counselling and (drum roll please...) HE'S STRAIGHT!! Will miracles ever cease? The good news needs to be spread far and wide. Cancel the "Marriage Amendment" legislation! Once the gay and lesbian community hears it only takes 21 days to convert, we won't need to worry about them expecting equal rights anymore!

Here's what I've always wondered... I hear over and over again about these faith-based centers focused specifically on "curing" gay and lesbian individuals from their SSAD afflictions. What I haven't seen, however, are the conversion camps that heterosexuals are apparently being forced in to as a means to account for our 10% of the population who are required to be gay. Where else would gay folk come from? We must be teaching it somewhere. If homosexuality can be cured, it must therefore also be able to be created... right? What would the only other option be? They're born that way?? As if.

where my girls at...

2007-01-31T00:18:00.000-05:00

Tuesday is chorus rehearsal night, and that usually means Collin and I stay home alone with our fingers up our respective noses while Michael runs off to make beautiful music without us. Tonight was a different story, though. I invited my favorite bitches and their offspring over for some old-fashioned hangin' out time. I am SO blessed to have the friends I have. I am doubly blessed that our boys all adore each other (although I'm sure each of the guys would take serious issue with my description of their friendship as adoration... oh well. They don't read this!).

My girlfriends and I hung out in the kitchen while I cooked up some Chicken a la Christina (also known as "Chicken Parmigiana") and spaghetti with red sauce (also known as "Ragu"). The boys played upstairs until dinner time, when they finally descended utterly ravenous from their video gaming. It was a happy, joyous moment for me... sitting at my dining room table with my very best friends and our sons. I have a bench seat on one side of my table that the boys all fit on. As everyone served themselves (I cooked... the least they could do was spoon up their own grub!), we chatted about our days, life in general and what lay ahead in the week to come. The boys cracked us, and each other, up. They sang the Spongebob "F.U.N." song for us. It was a magical night.

Thank God for my girlfriends. And for Tuesday nights. We're going to make a habit of this.

it's all in the wrists...

2007-01-28T11:16:00.000-05:00

I played Bunco for the first time last night. Analysis? It totally rocks.

My BFF and frequent partner-in-crime decided it would be fun for a group of us to get together on a regular basis. She and her husband came up with Family Bunco Night, to be hosted at their house once a month, where everyone in the family can join in the fun.

We all brought a food dish (or six) to share. I swear you would have thought we were holing up for a week-long Arctic adventure to count polar bears with all the food we had! No frozen wintry demise awaited us, however... this was just six families in sunny Florida getting together for a few hours on a Saturday night. Suffice it to say, though, we could have made it a week (or two even--with rations), had need be.

While the kids (TWELVE of them in all, mind you... ages 4-16) played upstairs, the parents took over the downstairs, chatting, catching up, and laughing really hard. We finally decided to get serious and start the Bunco game around 9:30. Having never played before, I was a little nervous about being able to keep up. Truth be told, I'm still scarred from the card-playing drill sergeants in college who swore Hearts would be a blast if I would just-friggin'-pay-attention. Needless to say, Nazi-style teaching tactics did little to leave me feeling encouraged and eager to learn any kind of card (or in this case, dice) game ever again. I seriously think the whole experience left me a little socially stunted. I suppose that's for me and a qualified therapist who accepts my insurance to work out at a later date, though. Anywho...

Bunco is different. There is absolutely ZERO skill involved with this gig. It's all luck and the roll of the dice. I liked moving from table to table and having different partners for every round. It was kind of like being at a swingers party, but minus the sex-with-strangers part. Plus, I got to take money home at the end of the night. How many swingers get to do that? Seriously. I'm asking. If there's money involved, I might actually be interested.

The kids had a great time, too. Believe it or not, with that many there, we did not see or hear from them at all that night. Don't get me wrong... we knew they were alive and everything. They came down for food, drinks, and once or twice to play catch in the backyard. What I mean though, is there was no bickering, or tattling, or emergent needs to visit a hospital. They all played together, had fun, and actually got along. Anybody ever hear of "Bunco Angels" before? If such a being exists, they were definitely with us. How else can you explain that many kids not breaking anything or killing each other? That's right. Miraculous.

If you've never done it before, give it a try. You'll love it! Bunco, that is. Not swinging. I don't know how you'd feel about that one. Just don't call me to share. I like the moderately naive little world I live in. They know me here.

Do I really have to wait a whole month before we get to play again?? Patience is a bitch.

i can't stop loving you...

2007-01-26T01:22:00.000-05:00

We went to a phenomenal show this evening. The Fine Arts Center at the University of North Florida in Jacksonville is relatively new and amazingly beautiful. They have worked hard to bring top-notch shows to a city that sorely needs more culture.

Tonight's scheduled performance at Lazarra Hall was, "I Can't Stop Loving You: The Genius of Ray Charles". I noticed this production way back in August when the 2006-2007 season was released, and I knew the minute I saw the listing that this was a show I wanted to see.

My love affair with the music of Ray Charles goes back as far as I can remember. My mother used to remind me that no one needs to hear a four-year-old sing "Hit the Road Jack" four-hundred-eighty-seven times in a row. Four-hundred-eighty-six times? Not a problem. It's that last one that pushes you right over the edge apparently.

They say that what goes around comes around. This is another instance where "They" are evidently correct. When my own son reached the age of four or five, he, too, fell under the spell. At the time we would drive from our then-home in Silver Spring, Maryland, to Delaware on a monthly basis. The trip usually took about two hours, sometimes two-and-a-half. The entire ride we would listen to Ray's "Anthology" album. And I $#!+ you not, we had to listen to "Hit the Road Jack" at LEAST four-hundred-eighty-seven times a trip... but I loved every minute of it! :o)

"Can't Stop Loving You" is an amazing revue. There is no story line, just back-to-back knock-you-on-your-ass performances of Ray Charles' most popular songs. There are incredible dancers... a jaw-droppingly-talented 15 piece on-stage band... and vocalists that left you wishing you had half the talent they each had in their pinkie fingers!

The show was definitely stolen by powerhouse Nedgra Culp. Her show-stopping Ray-inspired performance of John Lennon's "Imagine" was unbelievable. I have to believe Ray and John were somewhere together, smiling as she sang. Former "Raelette" Regi Brown also gave an incredible performance with her rendition of "America the Beautiful". What better tribute to Ray, and to our country, than to have his version of "America" sung so splendidly. Truth Hurts turned in a wonderful performance as well, but it did appear at several times throughout the evening that she was "somewhere else" tonight. Chris Murrell's vocals were a joy, as were those of Terrence D. Forsythe. Both gentlemen took turns narrating the evening. Forsythe's voice had an ethereal quality to it, and if your eyes were closed, at times you would think Stevie Wonder himself had landed on the stage (I was not surprised to see that Stevie is one of the performers Forsythe had worked with previously). Ensemble productions of "Shake A Tail Feather" and "What'd I Say" were a blast, with the dancers coming into the audience and the cast getting everyone up on their feet. At the end of the night, we all agreed we had seen some amazing performances. We also agreed that our favorite song of the night was Mike Davis' "Busted". Mike definitely has Ray's sound down, and while everyone put on a fantastic show, his was the voice that most took you back to the first time you heard Ray Charles sing. With a deserted alley scene behind him, and no one else on stage, Mike sang it when he performed "Busted" . And that's exactly how you felt while you listened... THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is a performance. (To see photos and bios for all vocalists, click here.)

The only disappointment of the evening was the audience. I couldn't believe how sparse the crowd was. They were also mostly old and white. Poles seemed to dislodge across the theater by the time the second act started... possibly because after really sexy performances of "Minnie the Moocher", "Makin' Whoopee" and "Fever", the cast threw in several numbers by the Beatles and John Lennon?? Not sure if there was a connection or not, but I felt REALLY sorry for the cast up to that point. At times they must have thought they were performing for a lukewarm can of sardines. I got a couple of stares for "Whoooing" while clapping. I stared right back. It was that kind of show. It's not like we were at the symphony... although truth be told, I would probably "Whoooo" there too.

An added bonus to the evening that has to be mentioned was the pre-show lobby performance by Outtasight, a group of talented student musicians from the Florida School for the Deaf and Blind in St. Augustine. (Note: Ray Charles attended FSDB as a young man.) I was absolutely blown away by these kids. The musicianship was amazing, but vocal performances by two young women within the group were unbelievable. I was literally moved to tears. Ask Michael.

Take a minute to see if "Can't Stop Loving You" is coming to your city soon. If it is, make a point to be there. And "Whoooo" for me, will ya?

let's play survivor...

2007-01-25T15:37:00.000-05:00

I got to play with snakes today! A local park naturalist is offering these wonderful "Survival Training" classes for homeschoolers. Today was our first time attending, but we will definitely be going back. The lesson focused on snakes... and I got to hold a foot and a half long hognosed snake while the kids made their rounds. There was a baby hognose there, too, along with a ball python. My only disappointment for the day was not being able to see the ball python since I was busy with my hognose babysitting duties. I would certainly consider adding a snake to our home zoo (and most likely a ball python), if I could only find one that was a vegetarian...

Next month's class will feature geocaching. I'll let you know how it goes!

the only man who could ever reach me...

2007-01-24T01:13:00.000-05:00

Have you heard about the Second Coming yet?!? What rock have you been hiding behind? Was it the one Tom Cruise rolled away from his tomb before being declared Scientology's Christ?

I've been thinking a lot lately about how open to interpretation matters of faith can be. How could we ever be convinced that our belief system is the one-and-only, divinely-inspired true religion? Especially when most Christians can't even agree on who has it right?

The best I can tell, there's something out there for all of us. For your reading enjoyment...

The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster

Church of Buffett, Orthodox

The Church of the Blind Chihuahua

Church of Craft

The Church of Scientology

Landover Baptist

Westboro Baptist Church

XXX Church

The Church of the Sub-Genius

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Hey... according to Matt and Trey, they're the ones who got it right!)

The Church of the Swimming Elephant

The Church of Stop Shopping

Church of Fools

The Church of Google

The Most Holy Blessed Sacrament of the Church of the Runaway Bunny

how i love a bowtie...

2007-01-21T02:49:00.000-05:00

Tonight was the annual banquet for my husband's barbershop chorus. There was a decent dinner (if you like chewy, lukewarm steak), a "Year in Review", some pretty bad jokes, some pretty funny jokes, the Chapter Officer Installation, and the highlight of the evening--the announcement of this year's Barbershopper of the Year. Those of us "in the hobby" (did I really just write that? YUCK!) lovingly refer to the Barbershopper of the Year award as the "Bowtie". It's an incredibly clever designation, based, of course, on the acronym BOTY. Get it? BO-TY. Told you it was clever.

The BOTY is really not anything to laugh at or mock. My husband was nominated along with two other incredibly dedicated chorus members who exhibited amazing devotion to the chorus and its mission this year. The winner is selected by the full membership of the chorus. It was an incredibly wonderful honor for his chorusmates to elect Michael Barbershopper of the Year. It is a title that remains part of your legacy in the hobby... once a BOTY, always a BOTY. There was a plaque, and everything.

I'm very proud of Michael all the time. Tonight was simply his chance to be recognized by everyone else for the amazing things he does. It was a great night.

the dead dad club...

2007-01-19T23:32:00.000-05:00

"I don't know how to exist in a world where he doesn't."

Welcome to the Dead Dad Club.

I hope you have never had to make the decision to end some one's life. I hope you never have to make the decision to end some one's life. If you want to know how it feels to do that, though, I strongly suggest watching Grey's Anatomy: Season 3, Six Days--Part 2.

As a bit of a disclaimer I must say I am an avid watcher of Grey's Anatomy. I love the characters, I love the story lines, I love the tender moments, I love the sordid tales... I love it all. It will help you to understand the impact of Six Days--Part 2 if you love Grey's, too. If not, go back at least to Season 3, Where the Boys Are and watch George's father's illness unfold. Some episodes are available free on ABC... older episodes can be downloaded at iTunes for $1.99 each.

In our house we use the DVR to record programs we don't want to miss. Grey's Anatomy is on that short list, so I rarely, if ever, am watching it on Thursday at 9:00pm EST with the rest of the world. I can't be bothered with waiting through the pesky commercials! Thanks to my trusty DVR, I fast-forward right past those and get straight to the good stuff. So today, on a Friday afternoon, I curled up on the sofa under my comfy quilt and pushed "Play". I had no idea what I was getting myself in to.

Moments that usually take our breath away are the unexpected ones... we don't see them coming. The same can be said of moments that rip our heart out through our throat and then show it to us. I want you to watch the show, so I'm not going to give a blow-by-blow of the episode. What I will explain is how hard I cried. In the privacy of my own family room, surrounded by happy thoughts and things, I spilled tears until there were no more to fall. I sobbed uncontrollably, transported back in time through a TV screen to a waiting room in Johns Hopkins Hospital almost nine years ago, when I was asked to sign on a dotted line saying it was OK to ~~take my father's life~~ let my father go. And as I continued to watch, unable to turn away, I was back in that hospital room as they turned off machines and the song of the heart monitor transformed from a syncopated rhythm into the lone note of a bagpiper bellowing "Amazing Grace".

In the time since my dad's death, I have never seen such an honest, moving and accurate portrayal of what it's like to reach the point where there are no other options... where letting go is the only choice.

As for the Dead Dad Club, any member will tell you it's an organization we hope you never have to join. If and when that time comes, though, we'll be here. Unfortunately, no one has the answer to that burning question, "How do I exist in a world where he doesn't?" That's a journey each of us has to go alone.

losing my religion...

2007-01-17T00:10:00.000-05:00

The issue of faith has been coming up a lot in my life lately. As a life-long Episcopalian, baptised, confirmed and married in the church, I have always had more liberal views of God and religion. The more questions I have had about what exactly I do believe, the more unsure I am of whether there is really a church "home" for me anymore.

I don't believe that the Bible is the inerrant word of God. I don't believe in a malicious, wrathful, vengeful God. I don't believe that we are born of sin, or that un-Baptised infants will languish in Hell if they die. I don't believe that Jews, or Muslims, or Buddhists, or Hindus, or Wiccans or anyone of any other faith or belief system is going to Hell because they were not Christians. For that fact, I don't believe in Hell. I don't believe in an eternal heaven, either. I don't believe that I can only talk to God through Christ. I don't believe there were dinosaurs on Noah's Ark. And I REALLY don't believe that three quarters of the people in this country believe as deeply as they do in something that for me raises way more questions than it poses answers to.

Here's what I do believe: I believe in a kind and loving God. I believe that throughout the centuries man has lived on this planet, God has sent many messengers to Earth for the purpose of bringing all humanity to Him. I believe that there is nothing, let me repeat, nothing any of us can do to separate ourselves from God's love. I believe that homosexuality is a human condition, not a condemnable sin. I believe that organized religion has been hijacked by the religious right. I believe the Bible contains some wonderful stories, but I also believe it has been raped by those who were entrusted with preserving it (ie. organized religion). I believe that the life I am now living is only a stop on my spiritual journey... I've lived other lives, learned many lessons, and will live again to continue my learning. I believe in a heaven where I will be together with all of my loved ones who have gone before me, where I will wait for the rest of my loved ones to join me, and where I will rest happily until it is my time to live again. I believe that all dogs go to heaven (cats, birds and pet mice, too). I believe in drinking, dancing and having a good time. To that end, I believe life was meant to be enjoyed.

In "The Runaway Bunny", by Margaret Wise Brown, with pictures (who some people apparently feel free to alter in Photoshop... the nerve!) by Clement Hurd, is a story about a little bunny and his mother. The bunny decides that he is going to run away, and no matter where he plans to go, how he plans to get there, who he plans to be once he's gone, Momma Bunny is going to be there, by his side, loving him all the while. That, in a nutshell, all the other stuff aside, is how I feel about our relationship with God. His love is the ultimate love. No matter where we go, no matter the path we take, no matter who we are, He loves us. Nothing we do will separate us from Him. That is why we call Him "Father". Thus... The Most Blessed Sacrament of the Holy Church of the Runaway Bunny.

Are you in search of a church home? Does TMBSHCRB sound like it might be the place for you?? Applications are currently being accepted. There is one requirement for membership, however: Follow the "Golden Rule" (Moses, Muhammed, the Mahabharata, Christ and Confucious all taught the same basic tenet). Be a good person; be kind to others and to our planet. God will love you anyway, but it will make it a lot easier for the rest of us to tolerate you.

i'm busted...

2007-01-15T22:58:00.000-05:00

My husband "found" my blog.

Don't get me wrong... it's not like I've exactly been hiding it from him. What does he think I'm doing in front of the computer for hours on end?? If I could have been looking at porn all this time, instead of pouring my heart and soul into my writing... man, lost opportunities!

To my credit, I have mentioned my blog many times. It surprised me immensely to realize that my husband does not, contrary to my popular belief, hang on my every word. He's missed a paragraph or two of my rambling conversations with him when he's half asleep?!? Who'd have thunk it??

Of course the whole issue came up because he wanted to lodge a complaint. After reading my blog in its entirety, he felt the only times I mentioned him, reflected negatively on him. I politely suggested that in the future he refrain from questioning my devotion to our marital vows.

Actually, what I believe I said was, "Well then you apparently read my blog with the same amount of attention you give our conversations about my blog." Or something like that.

He certainly missed this entry in his perusals. The most important thing he missed, however, is what I don't write. You will find no husband bashing here. I wish the same could be said of other blogs out there. Sure we have our moments, like any married couple does, but there's no "scorekeeping" done... especially not on the world wide web for the wide world to see.

I love my husband deeply. I love the sacrifices he makes to afford us the life we have. I love the opportunities his hard work makes available to us. And I would love him just as much if we were living in a trailer somewhere eating potted meat on Saltine crackers. We were meant to be together. We were meant to honor each other. And thusly... no bashing here.

So, rest assured honey (and other readers). If any stories about you appear here with a negative connotation, it is simply for humor's sake. You know I can't resist imparting others with a good chuckle. In the meantime, I'll try to write a little more often about how wonderful you really are.

blowing off steam...

2007-01-13T16:02:00.000-05:00

My letter to ticketschool.com:

I recently selected your company for my son's Drug and Alcohol course, which as you know, is required by the State of Florida before he can apply for his Learner's Permit.

My son worked diligently away at his course. He would ask occasional questions when he needed clarification on something, so I checked in with him every now-and-again to see how things were progressing. Imagine my shock when he called to me from the other room inquiring, "Mom... what are the advantages of using drugs?"

Not wanting to jump to conclusions, but clearly surprised by his question, I went to see in what context this query was being asked. To find out that he was expected to list "10 advantages of using drugs" absolutely FLOORED me. As blown away as I was by the question, I was even more irritated to see the next part of the testing--answers others had submitted to that question.

Here is a sampling (direct quotes) of the *many advantages* of using drugs listed through your course: "You can be accepted by people you like.", "You can make money selling drugs.", "You can try something different and exciting.", "Your sexual experience can be enhanced.", "Using drugs can be a way to “get back” at your parents/authority figures.".

What possible purpose does this exercise serve? I've worked long and hard to get it through my just-turned-fifteen-year-old's head that there ARE no advantages to using drugs. His concerns about this question at least let me know my message was received. I will not be recommending your course to others for several reasons, this one chief among them.

Perhaps the time your students devote to coming up with 10 advantages to using drugs could be better served by requiring them to spend 10 minutes perusing "Faces of Meth" at drugfree.org or watching some of the videos at checkyourself.com.

the many advantages of using drugs...

2007-01-12T00:56:00.000-05:00

As mentioned previously, my little boy is learning to ~~walk~~ drive. In the great state of Florida, that means successfully passing the required Drug and Alcohol Awareness class... and by "class" I mean 4 hours online (whether it actually takes you four hours or not) reading, taking "these-don't-count" quizzes and successfully passing an open book "this-does-count" final exam. After looking around a bit, I decided on the course offered by Ticket School. I should have looked a bit harder. (Note to Florida parents: Find a company that includes the Driver's Test with the D&A course, especially if your teen stresses over test-taking. Ticket School does not offer both. My not knowing he could take the test online now means Collin will have to take it at the DMV office, instead of having the option to take it in the comfort of his own home.)

It was my understanding the purpose of the Drug and Alcohol course was to educate and prevent drug use among teens. Silly me. Apparently part of the course is teaching kids how awesome drugs are. I kid you not.

While my wonderful son was taking his D&A course, he occasionally would need clarification on certain situations. We would discuss his question and then on he would go with the next part of his class. I got in the habit of checking in on him every now-and-again, too, just to see how things were progressing.

You can imagine my surprise when my precious ~~baby~~ fifteen-year-old called out to me, "MOM--What are the ADVANTAGES of using drugs?" Hawha?!?

Absolutely certain he must not be understanding the question (though I know he's the smartest being on the face of the planet), I went to see how he could have gotten this particular so wrong.

No mistake. He read the question exactly as it was written.

My son, as part of the Drug and Alcohol Awareness course he was required by the State of Florida to take and pass, had to list not just one or two advantages of using drugs, but ten. Yes, ten, as in 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, TEN. The next part of the exercise was to list 10 disadvantages of using drugs. I'm not sure I understand what POSSIBLE purpose this exercise serves. Actually, I'm sure I don't.

As if the assignment wasn't ridiculous enough, what came next totally threw me for a loop. The following list appeared on my son's computer screen and was identified as "answers other course takers (reminder: mostly 15 year olds) recently listed" as their responses to this insane question:

You can get high/feel good/have a sense of euphoria.
You can be accepted by people you like.
You can look cool.
You can make money selling drugs.
You can escape from your problems.
You can try something different and exciting.
Your sexual experience can be enhanced.
Drugs can ease your pain.
Using drugs can be a way to “get back” at your parents/authority figures.
Drugs can relax you/help you to “mellow out.”

As a means of comparison, here are the recent responses listed for "10 Disadvantages of Using Drugs":

You can be arrested/go to jail.
You can lose your job or not get the job you want because you have a history of drug use.
You can be disqualified from playing sports/getting into college.
You might start stealing or prostituting to support your drug habit.
You might experience a “crash” after the effect of the drug has worn off.
You can develop a tolerance that will cause you to use more and more of the drug.
You might contract or pass on a sexually transmitted disease when sharing needles.
Withdrawal can be very painful and often involves nausea, vomiting, chills, and tremors.
You can cause problems with your parents/family/others who care about you.
You can die from an overdose, or after your heart has slowed down to the point of stopping.

Really?? We don't get to dying until #10? Is it just me or does this seem like a pretty lame list of disadvantages?

Disclaimer: I have never used any drugs that were not prescribed to me by a doctor. Never. I've never smoked pot. (Yes, REALLY.) I've never used coke, PCP, meth, or any other sundry of narcotics out there. Why? I grew up in a family of law enforcement officers, and among the many other reasons "not to" was the fact that drugs were always illegal. (I say it that way because I did drink before turning 21... but alcohol eventually became legal.) Looking back on things now, though, I think there was more to not using just because it was against the law. I heard so many stories from my father and uncles about drug users that I knew I never wanted that life for myself. If using just once could start me down that road, then I wouldn't use "just once". I wouldn't ever use. And I haven't. At this point in my life, it's become kind of a non-issue. Let's be serious... who STARTS using drugs at 35??!! That said...

Am I off base here? Is this an acceptable activity for a Drug & Alcohol Awareness Course for mostly fifteen-year-olds in anyone else's eyes?? One required by state law that I had to pay $39.95 for?? Here are my own responses...

10 Advantages to Using Drugs

No more homework! Fortunately drug possession on campus is grounds for expulsion.
You don't have to worry about finding one of those annoying "jobs".
Instead of honest work, you can just steal stuff from your family, friends and neighbors.
No more waking up early! You got kicked out of school and can't get a job. Why bother?
You get lots of practice in lying and covering your tracks.
You make lots of new friends (ie. police officers, bail bondsmen, your new cellmate "Tiny", your probation officer, etc.).
You don't have to worry about your appearance anymore. Using drugs has an "aura" all its own.
You can take up smoking cigarettes without that becoming the most detrimental thing you purposely do to yourself.
You learn where all the local pawn shops are.
You don't have to live with your parents anymore, since all they ever did was give you grief anyway.

10 Disadvantages to Using Drugs

You could die.
You could kill someone else.
You could be killed by someone else.
If you don't die, you might end up wishing you would.
You could end up in jail.
You could end up on the streets.
You could die. (Did I mention that already?)
Once addicted, the fight to recovery is a long, painful, grueling one. Not everyone comes out on top.
You could lose everything... your family, your friends, your home, your health, your life.
Permanent consequences for a temporary high never makes sense. And, oh yeah, you could die. (One more time... just for good measure.)

OK. I think I'm done now.

whoomp... there it is!

2007-01-09T11:59:00.000-05:00

GO GATORS!!

amazing...

2007-01-06T09:18:00.000-05:00

Just in case you missed this story, there are still heroes among us. Could you... would you... have done the same thing? I'm still trying to decide.

it's a long and winding road...

2007-01-05T23:08:00.000-05:00

"A strong man and a waterfall

always channel their own path." -Unknown

I've been updating my blog today after being unable to quell an insatiable need to expand my horizons and search out like minds. I still can't figure out if this obsession is due to the new year or my brush with death. Regardless, the drive is there and needs to be addressed.

Having been out of commission for the better part of a month, I spent time recently catching up with my multiple "Inbox"es (Inboxen?!!). This note from the Universe caught my attention...

"The one thing all famous authors, world class athletes, business tycoons, singers, actors, and celebrated achievers in any field have in common, Christina, is that they all began their journeys when they were none of these things.

Yet still, they began their journeys.

You are so poised for greatness,
The Universe"

Like the waterfall, I guess it's time to carve out my own path. Besides, who am I to question the Universe?

fifty-two books to read on the shelf, fifty-two books...

2007-01-01T20:30:00.000-05:00

One of my goals for this year is to read more. I'm going to shoot for a book a week, so we'll see how that goes. I can't promise I'll read one per week--some weeks are busier than others. The goal, however, is fifty-two books by December 31, 2007. I will update this list as I go...

The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath
Ya-Ya's In Bloom, by Rebecca Wells
Flowers for Algernon, by Daniel Keyes

shake it like a polaroid picture...

2007-01-01T15:24:00.000-05:00

I have to admit, looking back at 2006 leaves me struggling with quite a few very diverse emotions. Happiness... we moved into our new home, Collin has grown from a wonderful little boy into an amazing young man, I made (or strengthened) some incredible friendships, Michael found success--both personally and professionally, my teen homeschooling group grew by leaps and bounds, my little brother got married, and the Gators made it to the National Championship, just to name a few. Regret... friendships I should have nurtured fell to the wayside, not spending the time I should have on homeschooling studies, missing my neices' birthday parties, not spending the time I should have on myself. Relief... FINALLY getting the most pressing of our house issues resolved, figuring out what was causing Casey's health issues, the 2006 elections, not dying, finding out that Grey's Anatomy re-runs would be aired before the rest of the season continued. Sorrow... losing my Aunt Phyllis, discovering my Aunt Jean had passed away in 2004, Michael being really sick in October, missing Mr. James AKA the "Waving Man of Sunbeam Road", finding out our friend Jane has pancreatic cancer. Pride... Michael named Interim Director of the Big Orange Chorus, Collin playing sports again and becoming the defensive all-star of his team, seeing Jax Home Schooled High Schoolers double it's membership from last year. Blessed... that my husband loves me the way he does, that my son has become this truly amazing young man, that I have a large and caring extended family, for the friends I have, for the life I am afforded, just to be.

Things I will do in 2007:

Love unconditionally.
Travel someplace I never planned on going.
Make peace with my body.
Go more places with my family.
Be a better teacher.
Read more.
Make more art.
Find more homeschooling moms like me.
Focus on the health of my family.
Do more to educate others about the ongoing genocide in Darfur.
Go to more concerts and live shows.
Go to the pool and beach more often.
Spend more time with my nieces and nephews.
Be a better me.

Things I won't do in 2007:

Blog about how I'm going to try to be more faithful about posting regularly.

Happy New Year.

growing... going...

2006-12-27T20:53:00.000-05:00

I know it's a cliche thing to say, but it seems like just yesterday that I was holding you in my arms for the very first time. Today though, on your 15th birthday, you stand a good 6" taller than me, shave on a regular basis, play big-boy sports like football, and have the broad shoulders of someone twice your age. We'll be going soon to get your Learner's Permit for driving, you talk of getting a job, wanting a serious girlfriend, spreading your wings... and it takes every ounce of strength in my body to let you grow. My instincts all seem to say, "Quick! Hold him tighter! This is your BABY!"

Lucky for you, my mind isn't afraid of my instincts. The rational part of me says, "It's OK, Christina. You've prepared him well to handle what is to come from here."

This is where my heart chimes in..."Yes, he's ready to be a man to the world. That doesn't mean he'll ever stop being your baby."

I have so many hopes and dreams for you, but in all honesty, they're no body's business but ours. Just know that I am forever grateful for the wonderful little boy I brought into this world and am in unending awe of the incredible young man he has become. You hold the wildest of success in the palm of your hands. Don't ever be afraid to be amazing. In fact, I'll accept nothing less.

Happy Birthday, baby. Thank you for everything you do and everything you are. I couldn't be more proud of you.

All of my love, always...

Mom

shaken... and stirred.

2006-12-22T21:38:00.000-05:00

I probably would have known how to react if I had been diagnosed with breast cancer. My scare with possible ovarian cancer last year has female cancers on my radar. We always hear how women are twice as likely to die from heart disease. That's another one I would most likely have been able to handle. Even car accidents and gun violence were floating around in the back of my brain somewhere. But pancreatitis? Are you friggin' kidding me? I could die because my PANCREAS might rupture??

Life was going along swimmingly... we had just spent a wonderful week in the mountains of Georgia, Tennessee and North Carolina, and managed to score tickets to the SEC Championship game at the Georgia Dome in Atlanta to watch our beloved Gators trounce the Arkansas Razorbacks. We returned safely to Florida, and Collin and I made quick work of FINALLY getting our home settled. Friday night we hosted a party for our home school group at our house. It was a great evening! Saturday we were out and about most of the day. Collin had his final football game that morning, then he and I went to a birthday party while Michael headed out to the beaches area for a chorus performance. We met up again at the Southside Baptist Singing Christmas Tree performance, where Michael was performing in a warm-up quartet with several friends. We watched to show together, grabbed a late dinner (as is usual for us!) and headed home. "Momma-guilt" set in over having our four-legged girls in their beds most of the day, so we let them sleep with us Saturday night.

Sunday morning I woke up with a horrific back ache. I was convinced it was because I had slept all askew, with Sophie snuggled up next to me under the covers, and Casey planted firmly between my feet. I took some Advil and tried to get on with my day. The back pain lingered, but I also began to notice upper abdominal pain that got worse as the day progressed. That night we headed to Ponte Vedra for a Christmas concert at my brother-in-law's church their whole family was participating in. The pain was definitely present, but not debilitating. At least not yet.

After the concert we stopped at Olive Garden for dinner (yes, you guessed it... a LATE one!), but I barely ate anything. I had no appetite. (It's OK, I couldn't believe it either!) We got home and I quickly made my way to bed only to toss and turn all night. It didn't matter how I laid, I was in pain. On my side... painful. On my back... ouch. On my stomach... excruciating. I took more Advil and hoped I'd at least get some rest. My pain only continued to worsen.

Monday morning Michael was on the phone as soon as possible to our doctor's office. I was able to squeak into a 2:45pm appointment that afternoon. Our doctor listened to my symptoms (severe upper abdominal pain, back pain, increasingly darkening urine and almost white bowel movements--sorry for those last two, but if it's ever something that happens to you, you'll WANT to have known that part!!), examined me, sent me for blood work and urinalysis, ordered an ultrasound and a CT scan with contrast of my abdominal area and warned me to head to the ER immediately if I began vomiting, had a fever or if the pain got any worse. He also handed me a prescription for Darvocet. Off I went.

By 6:30 that evening (Monday, December 11, 2006), my pain had reached the level that I was literally in tears. I told Michael around 7 that I simply couldn't take it anymore and needed to go to the Emergency Room. As luck would have it, it was a busy night in the Baptist South ER. I was through Triage pretty quickly, but it took another 2 hours before I was called to a room. A nurse drew blood and took my vitals, but another hour passed before we finally saw a doctor.

(Don't stop reading now... here's where it gets good.)

Important Medical Note for Women in Severe Pain: If you have to turn in a urine specimen, make sure your name is securely attached to the container. If they want you to put the container in a plastic bag, make sure your name is on that, too. Heck, make sure it's on the sample and bag at least 6 or 7 or 8,000 times. The LAST thing you want the ER to do is confuse YOUR sample with someone ELSE'S sample. Especially, (and I now know this from experience) if that someone else is f'ing PREGNANT.

Back to the doctor coming to see me...

Keep in mind, it is now after 11:00 at night. I am in serious, severe pain and can't find any relief. I didn't want to take the time on our way to the hospital to stop and pick up my Darvocet prescription, so I haven't had ANYTHING to take the edge off of my pain. A short, dark haired woman with a slight accent who wore a tell-tale white coat finally came in to see me. She asked the mandatory, "So, what brings you to the Emergency Room tonight?", and I detailed my last several days for her. I concluded by stating that my doctor ordered an abdominal ultrasound and CT for me, but the earliest CT scan appointment I could get was Thursday evening. (Wait for it...)

The doctor proceeded to tell me that she would go ahead and have the ultrasound done immediately, but (and this was dropped on us like a comment about the evening's unseasonably warm weather) I couldn't have a CT scan due to my pregnancy.

Hawha?

I looked at her and said, "I'm sorry... I can't have a CT scan why?" She promptly replied that would not be possible because I was pregnant. This is where things turned in to a semi-Abbot- and-Costello-type routine.

"Uh, I'm not pregnant."

"Yes, you are."

"There's no way."

"Apparently there is."

"Maybe it's YOU who's pregnant."

"Mrs. Schriver..."

"Who's on second?"

At least I think it went something like that. The part of the whole scenario that was most deeply etched in my memory is what happened next... AFTER the nurse and doctor left the room.

"Is she serious? Are you pregnant?"

"There's no way I am pregnant. I've been pregnant before, and I know what it feels like to be pregnant. I'm NOT pregnant."

"Is there something you need to tell me? Have you been with someone else?"

"It's a damn good thing you're out of striking distance, buddy, because right about now you'd be picking your ass up off the floor."

"I had to ask."

"Yeah, just like I'm going to have to beat your ass once I can stand up straight again."

That's just the general gist of the conversation that started between my husband and I about what we were going to do if I was indeed pregnant. While we waited for blood test confirmation of the positive urine test diagnosis, Michael and I had plenty of time to contemplate the enormity of what had just been laid at our feet.

I'll save the suspense and let the cat out of the bag. I am not pregnant. The girl who came through Triage behind me is. Our urine specimens were confused during lab analysis. It took us an additional 3 1/2 hours to determine all of this. During this 3 1/2 hours I was not allowed any pain medication, as it may have had an adverse affect on the baby. Yeah... the baby that I wasn't pregnant with.

You can imagine my immense relief when the nurse FINALLY came into the room with a syringe full of morphine. As soon as she told me what I was getting, I turned to Michael and announced, "Then apparently I'm not pregnant." That was the end of that. And just when I had started to think that being a mom again after all these years might have been a cool thing...

They did manage to steal me away from the ER for a short time during the aforementioned 3 1/2 hours to perform the abdominal ultrasound. When the doctor finally returned to my bedside she informed us I was being admitted immediately due to blocked biliary ducts as a result of gallstones and acute pancreatitis. The party begins.

(To be continued...)

laughter is the best medicine...

2006-08-26T00:35:00.000-05:00

Google the word "failure", and I dare you to try not to laugh. Double DOG dare you, even.

it's been awhile...

2006-08-26T00:12:00.000-05:00

I'm going to try not to be MIA any longer. Some times it is easier to run away than others. For someone who has so much to say, I get quiet when there is a lot going on. That should give you a clue as to what life has been like lately.

he's leaving on a jet plane...

2006-07-06T22:19:00.000-05:00

I put my baby on a plane headed north this morning. I also just bit my tongue, as it was implanted securely in my cheek while I used the word "baby". He's been taller than me for over a year now, shaves on a regular basis and is getting smarter every day. It won't be long before I lose my ability to amaze him with useless knowledge.

I've been making this same trip for years now. After packing every piece of clothing my son can call his own into two wheeled-duffel bags bedecked in "Champion" logos, we head to Jacksonville International Airport, search desperately for a parking spot that is not closer to DAYTONA International Airport (and those little red light/green light things above the parking spaces ALWAYS make a fool of me... there are either empty spaces that have the red light illuminated, or a series of spaces showing green that are actually occupied. It's a conspiracy, I'm convinced. Parking spaces and the moon landing. Remain vigilant!), and then race to the Delta/Continental/JetBlue counter only to wait and wait for someone to help us check in. Here's where today was different, though...

My son is no longer considered an "unaccompanied minor". Not by JetBlue, at least. This left me with mixed feelings... there was no $50 Unaccompanied Minor fee to pay (yay!). My little boy is growing up (boo!). You would think that meant it was easier for me to see him off this time, right? Wrong. I still bawled like a little girl. I did, however, manage to delay my tears until he was safely out of sight and onboard. He may be getting older, but he still shouldn't see his momma cry. (Seriously, do you EVER get old enough to see your mom cry without it having an effect on you? If the answer is "yes", it has to be WAY past 35, because I can't stand to watch my mother even tear up!)

Anywho... he's gone. Collin won't be back until the 7th of August. Some days that will seem like an eternity... others it will seem like forever. The good news is I know he will have a great time while he's up there. The better news is I know he's already looking forward to coming home.

eight years and yesterday...

2006-07-05T10:59:00.000-05:00

Dad...

It seems hard to believe it's been eight years since you had to leave us. I still struggle with your absence. I hate that sometimes I can't remember the sound of your voice. As the years pass, and old age sets in (!), I begin to realize more and more what an incredible human being you were--no, are. Your patience rivaled Job's... your tolerance set a new standard... your love of all humanity was an inspiration. I don't ever recall you "hating" any one, or any thing. Thank you for the examples you set for me. Thank you for helping to make me the person I am. Thank you for loving me enough to keep me on the right path. Thank you for being such an important part of Collin's life. And thank you most of all for still being a part of our lives. We may not speak of you every day, but you are always in our hearts. Sleep sweet and rest with God until we see you again.

I love you always...
Nina

spreading my wings...

2006-07-03T10:41:00.000-05:00

So I've decided to spread my blogging wings and begin posting on a "grown up" blog. I started on Yahoo 360 because... well... because I do everything on Yahoo. Why, you may ask? Good question. I don't know either.

Anywho, it made it hard to have a blog there that could even begin to keep up with the fancy ones I would drool over on typepad.com and blogger.com. Just check out some of my "blogs of note", and you'll see what I mean. It wasn't until I started playing around here on blogger that I realized my friends have cooler blogs because they're more talented than me. They're all manipulating html code and doing fancy stuff in Photoshop. Show offs.

If you're familiar at all with the site templates available on blogger, you should be able to tell that I've managed to change a few things. Please rest assured that I didn't waste hours of my time investigating how to make these little changes. It took days.

I can't let myself want to know more about html for one reason. If I were to give in to this particular quest for knowledge, a floodgate would surge open. How do I know this? Another good question. (And I actually have an answer this time.) Because I can't know "just a little bit" about something. If I were to decide I needed to learn some basic html coding, I would have to immediately start work on obtaining a Super Ninja Webmaster Extraordinaire Certification.

Does this mean I'm a know-it-all? On the contrary. Three or four weeks into my SNWEC studies, I would lose all interest, declare this pursuit moronic, inquire endlessly as to what I thought I was doing, and move on to the next thing that blows my skirt up. Thanks to the internet, my next all-consuming hobby is just a click away. I do have to be careful where I "travel" though. Accidentally wander into the freak-a-deak cooridor of the World Wide Web, and the next thing you know... OK. Let's not even go there.

I don't know why... I've just always been this way. If I were in public school today, I'm sure someone would have long ago diagnosed me with ADD and started shoving Ritalin down my throat. I don't think that's it, though. There's just so much cool stuff going on out there. How can I possibly be expected to settle down with just one or two interests? I have made an artform of being a Jill-of-All-Trades-Master-of-None.

Have I mentioned yet how much my husband adores this little trait of mine? Just in case the incredibly sarcastic tone you should have read the word "adores" with eluded you, know that he truly finds me maddening at times. OK. Most of the time. Fortunately I have LOTS of witnesses who can attest to the fact that he promised to love me in sickness and health... for richer or poorer. In our case, the "poorer" commitment is the relevant vow.

Do you have any idea how much a new hobby can cost? Unfortunately, this is yet another question I actually have an answer for. Or rather, our Quicken program has an answer for. Which leads me to my next supposition. Quicken is straight from the devil. (See? Told you I could change focus faster than a fat lady can make her way through a buffet.)

Do you know that when you use Quicken, you can make your own "Expense" categories? Each and every purchase made around here gets entered into the Quicken software. Want to know what unGodly amount of money we spent on dining out last month? It's there. In pie chart form, even. Hey... how much have we spent at Target the past year? Yep. It's there in glorious red and white, too. Curious as to how much Christina has spent in PayPal transactions on the flavor-of-the-week? You guessed it. Available at the click of a mouse. TOTALLY unfair.

What it really comes down to is this: I'm trying to run with the big dogs but stay married to my number one dog. So forgive me if there aren't all kinds of cool bells and whistles here. I don't have the money or the time to MASTER anything else. What you will find, is me. Sometimes we'll laugh, others we'll probably cry. But it will always be worth the ride. That much I know.

she's gone...

2006-06-29T23:03:00.000-05:00

While on the phone with my mother early this afternoon, my Aunt Phyllis quietly slid to the floor and stopped breathing. Her time in this world had come to its end, I suppose. There at her kitchen table, with her oldest living son forced to watch, her tired body gave in and decided enough was enough. It may have been her heart, though, too. I am not speaking of the cardiac, blood-pumping, life-giving heart, but of the one she gave to my Uncle Jerry many moons ago... the soulful, dream-making, life-worth-living heart.

This beautiful woman's life was lived for the better part of her earthly years loving my uncle, their children, and her family. She lost her oldest son when he was seven, watched her parents pass, watched my grandparents pass, battled Myacenia Gravis, beat breast cancer... three times, struggled through chemo-induced congestive heart failure, and lost her husband and life-long love. As tragic as her years were, there were also many blessings. Four grandchildren, successful sons, life as an artist, amazing friends, the love of a wonderful kitty named Doodles... and a niece who adored her, even though she always lived thousands of miles away.

My aunt told me many times how much I would have loved my grandmother (she passed away shortly after my parents married, and quite a few years before I was born). My mother always told me the same thing, but somehow it had a different meaning coming from my Aunt Phyllis. She knew how much of a connection I felt to my Grandma Genevieve and bridged that gap for me when she could. When my son Collin was born, I received many wonderful gifts from family and friends. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell you today what most of them were, even if my life depended on it (sorry family and friends). I can tell you what Aunt Phyllis gave me, though--a quilt my grandmother made for her first grandson when he was born. Likewise, Michael and I got the best wedding present we could have hoped for from my aunt and uncle... Aunt Phyllis found a quilter who hand-finished a queen-sized quilt top my grandmother had made before she died. I cried as I held it... just as I did when I opened Collin's quilt. I will be forever grateful that Aunt Phyllis and Uncle Jerry made the long trip to Florida (from California) to attend my wedding. I didn't know it at the time, but that was my last chance to be with them both in person. What lives on is their memory, forever etched on my heart. Distance may have kept us from day-to-day closeness, but fortunately heartstrings know no boundaries.

She's gone, and so is a piece of my heart. My only peace comes from knowing how happy my uncle was today. They're finally together again.

ta-da...

2006-06-12T18:57:00.000-05:00

And she appears again from the cloud of smoke. (Cue the uproarious applause.)

It's been awhile... does anyone but Jamie care??!! I'm beginning to feel pretty lonely tapping away, with only one friend attached to my 360. There have been 88 page views... SOMEONE is coming here to see what I'm up to. It's ok. I promise. Ask me to be your friend. I don't bite except when asked.

So a lot has happened since my re-watching of the Breakfast Club and the subsequent drowning of my sorrows over the loss of my youth (on Diet Pepsi, nonetheless. How unexciting is that?!).

Unfortunately, not much of it is very blog-worthy.

There were guys here all last week working away on our big walls, trying to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. What can I do? Seriously. They've re-textured, primed, and painted until they're blue in the face and I'm hot under the hat... and it still isn't looking good. It looks BETTER, yes, and I'm not even asking for perfect--I just want to be able to look at my walls, not see stripes, and not be able to tell where everything was patched! I swear I will NEVER build a house again. Unless, of course, I become a licensed contractor and it ends up being a requirement of my job... but this whole experience has blown chunks. Last week was my SIXTH straight week of having workers in my house. We haven't even been able to unpack!!! All of our furniture is piled in the middle of the room to allow the guys access to the walls. What was unpacked is now stacked around the kitchen and family room. OK... I have to stop before I rupture a blood vessel.

Trying not to spend every waking moment consumed by house issues, we've managed to spend some time with family and friends the past week or so. Collin was with Jamie's family most of the day Friday, hanging out with Max and playing video games. We were with Michael's family last Saturday for some birthday parties, and then again this Saturday for his grandmother's 82nd. I can only hope that when I get to my 80's I am as happy and on-the-ball as both of his grandmothers.

I've also spent some time recently getting more stock listed in the shoppe! The charms and shells are going up today. I had my first official customer, so things can only get better from here! Right?

In an effort to extend my swapping circles, I joined an ATC swap on Swap Bot. If you haven't checked Swap Bot out yet, you don't know what you're missing!! There are tons of swaps you can join, not just art swaps. Take a peek. I'm sure you'll find one interesting diversion or another.

Speaking of cool sites, check out some of my favorites here. I'll be adding more as soon as my world quits spinning so ferociously.

I also joined Art Squared this week, an eBay group dedicated to producing small, affordable pieces of art which happen to be, you guessed it, square! The group started as a cooperative of artists who believed ATC sized art should be just for trading... not for sale. Intrigued by the concept of smaller-than-traditional canvas sizes, they decided 4" x 4" art was the way to go. That way, you don't take away from the intended purpose of ATCs, but you can still make small scale sellable art. Don't have any idea what I'm talking about? Here is information on the origination of the Artist Trading Card (ATC). And here is a lot more information about different ATC techniques and trends that have developed since the idea's inception. I will gladly TRADE cards with anyone who is interested. Just drop me a line in the "Comments" section. I'll post back when I have some Art Squared ready to sell, too... first I have to get my charms listed!
(PS--Last year Art Squared decided to extend their focus to any square piece of art, up to 14" x 14". I'm just declaring that now so later no one says, -insert appropriate whiney tone- "But Christina, YOUR piece is 6 x 6!")

Nothing earth shattering, thought provoking or insightful today, folks. Sorry. I can't be totally entertaining on a daily basis. You people would never leave me alone. All one of you.

Until next time...
Stina out.

(Originally posted on my 360: Monday June 12, 2006 - 07:57pm EDT)

don't mess with the bull, young man... you'll get the horns.

2006-05-30T22:17:00.000-05:00

Paul Gleason died yesterday at 67 from mesothelioma, a rare form of lung cancer caused by asbestos. He was better known to Gen X'ers as Principal Vernon, the Barry-Manilow-dressing sadist who gave out Saturday detentions in suburban Shermer, Illinois. "The Breakfast Club" defined my generation... the joy, the pain, the heartache. It was all there. It let you know you weren't so crazy after all.

Nothing funny or amusing today. Just watch the Breakfast Club... soon. Even if you've seen it before--it's worth re-watching. As a matter of fact, that's what I'm going to go do right now.

You have exactly eight hours and fifty-four minutes to think about why you're here. You may not talk, you will not move from these seats. Any questions?

(Originally posted on my 360: Tuesday May 30, 2006 - 11:17pm EDT)

take care of you...

2006-05-29T22:28:00.000-05:00

Here's the entry for the Vintage Nudes Fatbook from my Altered Art Obsession group that I promised to post. I'll also post a link for the book of originals that will be auctioned off to benefit the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund when it becomes available. What you can't see on my submission is that the image of the girl comes out of the pocket and on the back side is an aged mirror that reads "at risk" at the top. Art doesn't have to mean anything, but it's nice when you can convey a message through an image.

I see Dr. Mohr next week for my annual. When is yours?

(Originally posted on my 360: Monday May 29, 2006 - 11:28pm EDT)

a wedding. a funeral. and a bunch of mutants.

2006-05-29T21:50:00.000-05:00

So, I think the fun and frivolity I had writing last Tuesday's entry (has it really been THAT long since I've posted here?? Almost a week??!!) is just going to have to become part of my memory pool. I don't have the energy or the sharp memory I used to have, but I will mention one particular little rant that got my dander up... imagine my elation when tuning in to the ACM Awards on CBS that night (after a RIDICULOUSLY disappointing hour spent watching THE lamest American Idol semi-finals show EVER!), to find out that Rascal Flatts was going to be performing not one, noooo, but TWO, count'em t-w-o songs for the show! They went from playing "Me and My Gang" in front of the MGM to being on stage inside to perform "What Hurts the Most". There they are... kicking bootie and taking names, when the train suddenly DERAILED! Out came Kelly Clarkson. Yes, Kelly Clarkson. No, I don't know why she would have been singing with them either. That was the problem. Here's how the situation works out mathmatically: Rascal Flatts=Awesome. Kelly Clarkson=Awesome. Rascal Flatts + Kelly Clarkson= Not so much, really. Sadly, the "duet" left me wishing we'd called it quits after "Me and My Gang".

Speaking of Idol... what an utter let down. In all honesty, I quit watching weekly (did I just admit to watching Idol weekly??!!) when Chris was voted off. Un-frickin-believable. I wanted an Elliott v. Chris showdown. The ultimate rocker (ok, so maybe not "ultimate"... but you know what I mean!!) against the former Karaoke King. I didn't even bother to tune in for Wednesday night. I was afraid I'd fall asleep and I had stuff to get done.

On the home front, the VP of Customer Service for my builder was in my home at 9:30 am Thursday morning to see how things went so horribly wrong with our house. I just realized, my post about the phone survey on Tuesday was part of what got eaten! OK... quick version: Tuesday afternoon, phone survey call for builder by third party survey company. Me: totally honest and hot under the collar about house situation. My phone: ringing off the hook by Wednesday afternoon from builder reps trying to figure out "how things have gone so wrong". Me: wondering the same exact thing. Now we're back to the VP in my home Thursday morning... THANK GOD someone finally said, "You're right. This isn't acceptable and we're going to make it right." Honesty among those in the construction industry is so amazingly refreshing. I was sick of people blowing smoke into every available orifice. Anywho... he brought the head of a "we-fix-all-the-crap-other-people-have-screwed-up" company with him and by next Friday I will hopefully have the house I should have had when we closed. The drum beats on... I'm sure there's more to come with this story. Stay tuned, kiddies.

So how does our three day weekend end up occupied by a wedding, a funeral and more mutants than you can shake a stick at?? I was wondering the same thing. That's how it went though... and the wedding and funeral were in the same church, with the same group of friends. Tell me that isn't a little weird. Death is such a fascinating mystery to me... not in a morbid way, but rather a mystical one. I'll spend some time soon putting my faith/spirituality hiccups into a post. Jamie doesn't want me to turn hippie-dippy on her, but I look at it more as being a progressive thinker. Is that just semantics? Kind of like janitor v. waste removal engineer? Oh well... in the words of a great philosopher, "I yam what I yam." Suddenly I feel like eating spinach... hmmmm.

As for the mutants... go see X-Men: The Last Stand. Seriously. Right now. I'll wait.

Thus starts a new week. Back to the grind. And not the good kind of "grind" either... more the "this sucks" kind of grind. Catch you on the flipside.

Stina out. (My new goal for this year is to be more like Ryan Seacrest. I'll let you know how things go.)

(Originally posted on my 360: Monday May 29, 2006 - 10:50pm EDT)

hey baby, what's your sign?

2006-05-24T00:27:00.000-05:00

So... today my friend Karen showed me my astrological birth chart, which she was kind enough to put together for me. I have so much weird stuff going on in my life right now, she suggested this past weekend that we take a look at what the stars have to say about my current situations! To make things clear... I am not the kind who would base my life decisions on an astrological reading, but I am open to hearing what the planets think about me! How VERY interesting and illuminating this experience was... kinda scary how accurate some of the stuff can be, too. I won't go into detail, but I feel much better about my "secret self". To think all this time I've been worried I'm a freak!! It turns out, it's all in the sign, BIG BOY!!

More stock for the shoppe arrived today. The momentum keeps building and building. I have Artgirlz and BasicGrey orders on their way, along with a bunch of Design Originals stuff. I better get busy photographing and sample making so that I am ready to go soon. I'll have bunches of cool charms, including a lot of SOB (Student of Buffett--my new catchphrase for describing my life. I am NOT a parrothead!) stuff.

Well... I had typed this whole totally cool entry about the rest of my day and Yahoo! ate it. It's too bad, because there were all kinds of cool links and everything. I was pretty charming, and witty, too. Really. It's a shame you missed it.

(Originally posted on my 360: Wednesday May 24, 2006 - 01:27am EDT)

the time is drawing near...

2006-05-22T23:46:00.000-05:00

Well... I am getting closer and closer to the official launch of the "beautiful epiphany shoppe"!! My merchandise orders have started to arrive, so I spent a few hours this afternoon packaging and working out logistics. This is VERY exciting. I have wanted to have my own business for a long time now, and it's wonderful to have everything finally coming together!

I was here all day again today for more contractor work on the house. Our painter, Juan, showed up this morning around 8:30 (still WAY too early for my liking, but what can I do?), and spent the better part of the day painting our living room/dining room walls--AGAIN!! Four coats later, one of the walls is semi-acceptable, but the other one is still horrible. At this point I'm not sure what can be done other than having the drywall guys come in, sand the whole thing down and start over again. All I know is I am sick of being stuck at the house all day, day after day. It's one thing to choose not to go anywhere... it's another all together to not be ABLE to go anywhere! I'm not backing down, though. I've spent too much time making sure that everything comes together the way it should have been when we closed to give in now! The saga continues...

I had a FANTASTIC weekend! It didn't start out great at all... I had to make an emergency run to the vet with Casey Friday morning when she started pooping bright red blood. What causes something like that, you ask? According to the vet, stress induced colitis (which can be fatal for dogs) from having all of the workers in and out of the house. She had to stay with them all day for observation and is on antibiotics and special food for a week. Michael picked her up on his way home from the ballpark (the Big Orange Chorus sang the National Anthem for Friday night's game). I got to go out for a Mom's Night Out!! It ended up just being me and two other moms (Jamie and Karen A.), but we had an absolute blast!! We started the night with dinner at Kan Ki Japanese Steakhouse, headed to the Comedy Zone for Gary Valentine's 10:00pm show, and finished off the night hanging out a while before calling it quits. We were all friends when we headed out Friday night, but now we're great friends!! I'm so glad to have Jamie and Karen (aka Echo!) in my life!! Saturday afternoon Michael and I headed to Pat and Donna's to celebrate Donna's 41st!! I ended up in the pool fully dressed for the whole day... best bathing suit I've ever worn!! Everything I'm usually self-conscious about was covered, and I didn't get sunburned!! It was a wild afternoon, but it's always fun to spend time with Pat & Donna, Mark & Kristin, and Jennifer & Rich. We rang in Donna's new year in style. I think it was an afternoon we'll all remember for quite some time to come. Sunday was family day... a welcome reprieve from the rest of our weekend. Michael, Collin and I just took it easy with lunch at TGIFriday's, a marathon session at Books-a-Million and a trip to Target. Days like that are special in their own way. I'm so thankful for the life, family and friends I have.

Michael left for Dallas today on business. He'll be back late Wednesday. Hopefully he has a good trip. He's not a big fan of traveling for work... but he certainly seems to enjoy himself while he's gone! I wish the walls were done. I could get a lot accomplished before he gets back. Maybe I should use the time to situate my studio!! I'd love to paint the master bath, but somehow I just don't see that happening. Collin and I are having dinner with my mom tomorrow night, so that may have to be our "big adventure" while Michael's away.

I'm still trying to decide for sure if I'm going to my high school theater teacher's retirement party in Maryland on June 10. I'll have to make that decision soon, I guess!! It would be great to see him again and relive some old times. He dubbed me "Boom Boom" the beginning of my junior year, and the nickname has stuck with me to this day among the old Paint Branch High crowd... but that's another story for another time!

I have fatbook pages going in the mail tomorrow for a charity book the Altered Art Obsession group is doing to benefit the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund. After my scare with ovarian cancer last year, this project is VERY near and dear to my heart. I used a vintage nudie mirror from Peru for the original and fabricated some fake nudie mirrors for the artist books. (The pages had to include a vintage nude image!) There's red vintage looking paper... some Italian text... eyelets, metallic threads and crackle finish-OH MY! I'll post a copy of the final soon, if I can figure out how to photograph/scan the mirror!!

As for ovarian cancer (from the OCRF website):

Ovarian Cancer: The Facts

Ovarian cancer is the leading cause of death from gynecologic cancers in the United States, and is the fifth leading cause of cancer death among U.S. women. According to the American Cancer Society, it is estimated that 20,180 women will be diagnosed with this cancer in the U.S. in 2006, and about 15,310 women will die from the disease. A woman’s lifetime risk of ovarian cancer is 1 in 57; it is an insidious disease that often strikes without warning and without cause. The symptoms of ovarian cancer are often vague and subtle, making it difficult to diagnose.

Currently there is no effective means of early detection for the disease. As a result, ovarian cancer is usually diagnosed in advanced stages and only 50% of women survive longer than five years. Today, only 25% of cases are diagnosed in the early stages, i.e., before the cancer has spread beyond the ovary to the pelvic region. However, if ovarian cancer is detected and treated early, the five-year survival rate is greater than 90%.

Until we have an effective way to detect ovarian cancer, we urge all women to become educated about the disease so she can act independently to protect her health.

Listen to your body. Do not ignore symptoms.

Signs & Symptoms of Ovarian Cancer

• Vague but persistent and unexplained gastrointestinal complaints such as gas, nausea, and indigestion
• Abdominal bloating, pelvic and/or abdominal pain, and/or feeling of fullness
• Unexplained change in bowel habits (constipation or diarrhea)
• Unexplained weight gain or loss
• Frequency and/or urgency of urination
• Unusual fatigue
• Shortness of breath
• New and unexplained abnormal postmenopausal vaginal bleeding

Do what you can to help yourself. Have annual gynecological check-ups and PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR BODY! You are your own best advocate.

Ok, enough time on the soapbox... I'm off to "go horizontal", as my Italian Sister says!

Buon noche, mi amici!

Always, Christina

(Originally posted on my 360 Tuesday May 23, 2006 - 12:46am EDT)

it's time for a beautifulepiphany...

2006-05-21T10:42:00.000-05:00

Today is the beginning of another chapter. Time keeps marching on and you eventually realize you have no control over the pace. Your choice is simple. Sink or swim. I think I've been drowning for too long. I'm ready to not just paddle, but soar. It's like a part of me that died has been reborn.

Who were you before you put yourself last?

(Originally posted on my 360: Sunday May 21, 2006 - 11:42am EDT)