Facebook Status: L is stressing out about an interview tomorrow.
Comment:
AH: "You'll be awesome . . . wear some kickin' shoes to give you extra confidence!"
There are some people out there who know the very depths of your soul. And, that for me, it always comes back to the shoes.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Al Green
L: "Hmm... Al Green is from Lowell."
N: "Who's Al Green?"
L: "Al. Green. He did that song. That really popular song. About hearbreak.
N: "What did he do?"
L: "You know. Oh it's so good. A classic."
N: "I don't think I do."
L: "How do you mend a broken heart. Yes. That's it."
I start playing song.
N: "No wonder Lowell doesn't claim him as one of their own."
N: "Who's Al Green?"
L: "Al. Green. He did that song. That really popular song. About hearbreak.
N: "What did he do?"
L: "You know. Oh it's so good. A classic."
N: "I don't think I do."
L: "How do you mend a broken heart. Yes. That's it."
I start playing song.
N: "No wonder Lowell doesn't claim him as one of their own."
Inspired.
I can hardly believe it's been over two months since the last time I posted on here. Not that I haven't thought about posting, or even attempted (I never got past the first two lines) but thinking and doing, as we all know, are two completely different things.
Last night N got a christmas card in the mail from his aunt - "send us pictures of your house and life in florida!" - was scribbled at the bottom of it. A light bulb went off in my head and I looked pleadingly at N.
"What if we started a joint blog?" I said. "You know, for friends and family to keep updated on what we do down here. We've lived down here for almost a year and there are still so many people who have no earthly idea what our life is like."
"Uh huh. Yeah." He said, more focused on the computer screen than on the conversation.
"We could take turns writing it." I said. "Add pictures of our hikes. Or of the endless sunny days."
"Yup."
I went to bed satisfied with my great idea only to awake this morning to the reality that N would never update the thing nor take any real interest in it. It would have to be my project and my project alone. And if there came a time that N wanted to contribute, be it a day or a week or 3 months, he would be more than welcome to. And then I realized that I had already started this project long, long ago(it had only fallen by the wayside in the midst of this thing we call life) and that there was really no need to start a new blog, but only pay more love and attention to this one.
After all, it's about time I make good on my new year's resolution to write more. And there's no time like the present.
Last night N got a christmas card in the mail from his aunt - "send us pictures of your house and life in florida!" - was scribbled at the bottom of it. A light bulb went off in my head and I looked pleadingly at N.
"What if we started a joint blog?" I said. "You know, for friends and family to keep updated on what we do down here. We've lived down here for almost a year and there are still so many people who have no earthly idea what our life is like."
"Uh huh. Yeah." He said, more focused on the computer screen than on the conversation.
"We could take turns writing it." I said. "Add pictures of our hikes. Or of the endless sunny days."
"Yup."
I went to bed satisfied with my great idea only to awake this morning to the reality that N would never update the thing nor take any real interest in it. It would have to be my project and my project alone. And if there came a time that N wanted to contribute, be it a day or a week or 3 months, he would be more than welcome to. And then I realized that I had already started this project long, long ago(it had only fallen by the wayside in the midst of this thing we call life) and that there was really no need to start a new blog, but only pay more love and attention to this one.
After all, it's about time I make good on my new year's resolution to write more. And there's no time like the present.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Rec
Highly, HIGHLY recommend No Country for Old Men. Never has Tommy Lee Jones been this good.
Dark, funny, thought provoking, disturbing. It will keep you riveted.
Certainly one the best films of the year.
Dark, funny, thought provoking, disturbing. It will keep you riveted.
Certainly one the best films of the year.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Dear Apple,
I knew in my heart of hearts that it really was quite pointless given that my complaint would never actually be met with human eyes, but merely tacked on to a tally of satisfied customers versus disatisfied customers but damn, it felt so good to get off my chest.
Dear Apple,
How disappointing to discover that the ipod's batteries are not replaceable! Good thing I spent 2 years of my life "babying" mine for the sake of longevity. That really paid off when you told me that I would get a "new one with old parts" (aka refurbished). Oh, you did mention however, that I could trade mine in with a whopping 10% discount to get a new one. That's an awesome discount. No, really. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would get such a present in exchange for my nothing-is-wrong-with-this-except-the-battery-ipod.
I understand that we live in a consumer society and I understand that you exist to make a profit and your whole thought process probably includes "hey, when you come in to get a new battery and we put the screws to you, take a moment to admire the newest models of ipod. They're delicious." But the whole experience left a sour taste in my mouth and the realization that maybe Apple isn't the be all and end all that it claims to be.
Maybe I'm a PC after all.
It wasn't just the fact that I had to get a refurbished ipod to get a new battery. That was just the beginning. What irritated me the most was the refurbished ipod they sent me (after a shipping delay of a week) crapped out after 3 days of use. When I took it in and met with a genius he insisted that I just wasn't trouble-shooting the problem and sent me on my way with a long list of things to do if the problem arose again. Which it did. After one song on my way home from their store. So I made another appointment, met with another genius, and was put on a list to receive yet another refurbished ipod.
Which I have and appears to work ok as of now. For which I should probably be a little more grateful. But I say that now, only after I have hit the send button on my survey.
Dear Apple,
How disappointing to discover that the ipod's batteries are not replaceable! Good thing I spent 2 years of my life "babying" mine for the sake of longevity. That really paid off when you told me that I would get a "new one with old parts" (aka refurbished). Oh, you did mention however, that I could trade mine in with a whopping 10% discount to get a new one. That's an awesome discount. No, really. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would get such a present in exchange for my nothing-is-wrong-with-this-except-the-battery-ipod.
I understand that we live in a consumer society and I understand that you exist to make a profit and your whole thought process probably includes "hey, when you come in to get a new battery and we put the screws to you, take a moment to admire the newest models of ipod. They're delicious." But the whole experience left a sour taste in my mouth and the realization that maybe Apple isn't the be all and end all that it claims to be.
Maybe I'm a PC after all.
It wasn't just the fact that I had to get a refurbished ipod to get a new battery. That was just the beginning. What irritated me the most was the refurbished ipod they sent me (after a shipping delay of a week) crapped out after 3 days of use. When I took it in and met with a genius he insisted that I just wasn't trouble-shooting the problem and sent me on my way with a long list of things to do if the problem arose again. Which it did. After one song on my way home from their store. So I made another appointment, met with another genius, and was put on a list to receive yet another refurbished ipod.
Which I have and appears to work ok as of now. For which I should probably be a little more grateful. But I say that now, only after I have hit the send button on my survey.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Dear Mr. President-Elect,
I turned off the news last night at around 11 with the certainty that the U.S. had spoken clearly and loudly for you. Florida had not been declared. The west had not yet released their numbers. But Ohio had declared you victorious. And I knew, in my heart of hearts, that we had reclaimed our country.
I think this has been an emotional election for so many. The African American community who never thought they would see the day and have woken up and realized it is possible. Anything is possible. For people my age, who have shrugged off scare tactics of the past; who want to usher in an age of unity rather than remain in a country where it is survival of the fittest and richest. We want to see an end to the Iraq war: bring home our brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, husbands and wives so they too, can reclaim the life that they have left waiting in the wings why they fought so hard for the democracy we call the United States. I voted for equality. For same-sex couples to have the same rights as I. Love has no boundaries and everyone deserves the chance to live their happiest life. I voted for the rights of women. For universal healthcare so that we all can be the best and most productive citizens. I voted for a younger voice. A change in scenery. A historical election.
I am happy, honored and blessed to call you my 44th president. Congratulations
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
10.13.
My anniversary was just as low key as I could have hoped. We slept in, went to our favorite sushi place for lunch, then took a boat ride through winter park, the wealthiest and oldest part of Orlando. I though the point of the boat ride was to look at the beautiful scenery, foliage and maybe try to spot some interesting wild life but it was more a tour of how the wealthy live: "over here we have a 5 million dollar house that after buying, the owner's wife decided she didn't like so they tore it down and built another 5 million dollar house." And that was just the beginning. There were his and hers boat houses, a property with 4 large guest houses, a 7 car garage because the owner "likes to drive a different car to work everyday."
Mostly, I sat quietly and occasionally whispered to Nathan "I can't imagine." Because, lowly little me can't imagine. I feel incrediably fortunate in this economy to be able to pay my $1200 mortgage. I feel fortunate to have a tiny, tiny townhouse that we can call ours and 2 cars (fully paid off!) that are gaining years and milage but get us from point a to point b. We don't take expensive trips (mostly just day trips around the state) or have expensive items in our house (I can say with great satisfication that nearly everything is Target or World Market) and there is not a moment in my life where I don't think I have enough.
Would it be wonderful to have a guest house for my guests? To be able to attend a $42,000 school? To live in one of the most beautiful parts of the city? To be able to afford a physical trainer or a chef or both? I can say with utmost certainity, yes. But I don't need it, and some times when I think if for some reason we struck it rich, what would we do differently, I can't come up with any good reason to do anything differently.
One woman on the boat made a poignant comment: "these people have more money then sense." And it's true. No one needs 7 cars when some don't have enough money to put food on the table. No one needs a ballroom in their house when people struggle living pay check to pay check. People don't need 8 bathrooms and 21 bedrooms in their house when only 2 people live there. It's silly. And reckless. And down right greedy.
I suppose I have some things they may never have. A happy marriage. A dog that lights up my day and my life. And the realization that money is not everything.
Mostly, I sat quietly and occasionally whispered to Nathan "I can't imagine." Because, lowly little me can't imagine. I feel incrediably fortunate in this economy to be able to pay my $1200 mortgage. I feel fortunate to have a tiny, tiny townhouse that we can call ours and 2 cars (fully paid off!) that are gaining years and milage but get us from point a to point b. We don't take expensive trips (mostly just day trips around the state) or have expensive items in our house (I can say with great satisfication that nearly everything is Target or World Market) and there is not a moment in my life where I don't think I have enough.
Would it be wonderful to have a guest house for my guests? To be able to attend a $42,000 school? To live in one of the most beautiful parts of the city? To be able to afford a physical trainer or a chef or both? I can say with utmost certainity, yes. But I don't need it, and some times when I think if for some reason we struck it rich, what would we do differently, I can't come up with any good reason to do anything differently.
One woman on the boat made a poignant comment: "these people have more money then sense." And it's true. No one needs 7 cars when some don't have enough money to put food on the table. No one needs a ballroom in their house when people struggle living pay check to pay check. People don't need 8 bathrooms and 21 bedrooms in their house when only 2 people live there. It's silly. And reckless. And down right greedy.
I suppose I have some things they may never have. A happy marriage. A dog that lights up my day and my life. And the realization that money is not everything.
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