Wow, there's a totally original title. But, that's what cold pills do to your brain.
Started getting that cold-coming-on feeling yesterday. Accidentally took two pills, when the dosage was one. Drove home. Made it. Fell asleep. Had to take kids to Cats.
Next day. Downtown Dad had to drive to Siouxtown for a college reunion, he'll be gone overnight. It's Friday, can sleep uninterrupted.... Oh yeah, I'm a Realtor. Wedding of the daughter of a friend at 5. Back home, another cold pill. 8:44 bed time.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Thursday, September 22, 2005
The Secret to Being a Cheerleader
The other day, while talking Downtown Dad through an episode of the doldrums, I found myself wishing I had not had such an aversion to cheerleaders in high school. Their too-bright smiles and polished perkiness now seemed important tools to me as I struggled to hold my level of emotional turmoil at bay while his washed over me like a level 5 hurricane. Surely, I thought, there was some secret technique for outward joy that cheerleaders learned along with those sharp and snappy synchronized motions. Even their spontaneous ability to chirp out something clever that rhymed was looking really useful to me just then. I wished at that moment that I had at least attended the cheerleading tryouts, if only for the scraps of skills I might have picked up.
Later, I kissed my beleaguered hubby goodbye as he trudged off to work, and waved enthusiastically from the door while pumping my fist in the air in what I hoped looked like a rah-rah gesture. It occurred to me that I could find help if perhaps there were some outlines of cheerleading skills on the Internet somewhere! Turns out there are, but these so-called skills are purely physical. As if I hadn’t already suspected, cheerleading is not a noble pursuit, entered into by a rare few spiritually endowed with abundant cheer. No, cheerleading is a sport! Cheerleaders don’t care about the game or sport or even the players they are cheering on. These girls and boys are focused solely on their performance, for which they win trophies – whether or not the team they were “cheering” won or lost. This revelation affirmed my original aversions, but did not help me in my quest for outward optimism while suffering from inward gloom.
OK, so cheerleading wasn’t the right word, maybe motivational speaker was more what I was looking for. Surely being the daughter and granddaughter of Southern Evangelical Baptist Ministers I had inherited a bit of the old balderdash gene. So that evening, in round two, I shifted my inner mental picture of me with pom-poms and a short skirt, to me in front of a congregation, fanning themselves, while occasionally nodding and murmuring amen. After a few half-hearted attempts at long dramatic pauses, crashing my fist into my palm, and ending-ah my words-ah with emphasis-ah, I had to scrap that notion too.
Just then, it dawned on me, that after 18 years of marriage, Downtown Dad and I have weathered a few storms together. Each one difficult and emotionally draining in its own way, but each one dealt with individually and from the soul, not with a ready-made bag of tricks. As it turns out, you don’t need any of those snappy jumps and kicks or that old time voice modulation-ah. To quote from the gospel of John, Paul, George, and Ringo – All you need is love.
Later, I kissed my beleaguered hubby goodbye as he trudged off to work, and waved enthusiastically from the door while pumping my fist in the air in what I hoped looked like a rah-rah gesture. It occurred to me that I could find help if perhaps there were some outlines of cheerleading skills on the Internet somewhere! Turns out there are, but these so-called skills are purely physical. As if I hadn’t already suspected, cheerleading is not a noble pursuit, entered into by a rare few spiritually endowed with abundant cheer. No, cheerleading is a sport! Cheerleaders don’t care about the game or sport or even the players they are cheering on. These girls and boys are focused solely on their performance, for which they win trophies – whether or not the team they were “cheering” won or lost. This revelation affirmed my original aversions, but did not help me in my quest for outward optimism while suffering from inward gloom.
OK, so cheerleading wasn’t the right word, maybe motivational speaker was more what I was looking for. Surely being the daughter and granddaughter of Southern Evangelical Baptist Ministers I had inherited a bit of the old balderdash gene. So that evening, in round two, I shifted my inner mental picture of me with pom-poms and a short skirt, to me in front of a congregation, fanning themselves, while occasionally nodding and murmuring amen. After a few half-hearted attempts at long dramatic pauses, crashing my fist into my palm, and ending-ah my words-ah with emphasis-ah, I had to scrap that notion too.
Just then, it dawned on me, that after 18 years of marriage, Downtown Dad and I have weathered a few storms together. Each one difficult and emotionally draining in its own way, but each one dealt with individually and from the soul, not with a ready-made bag of tricks. As it turns out, you don’t need any of those snappy jumps and kicks or that old time voice modulation-ah. To quote from the gospel of John, Paul, George, and Ringo – All you need is love.
Monday, September 19, 2005
Just thought you should know....
I have just had the very unfortunate experience of tasting Shakers' Rose Vodka. I'm not sure why that was even a "keeper" in their brainstorming session, but let me just tell you, if you can't already figure it out, PHYYUUUYKKK!
Their propaganda says different: "It is the most romantic vodka around, SHAKERS Rose, winner of the Best in Show award for flavored vodka at the 2004 World Spirits Competition and one of The Spirit Journal's top 50 spirits in the world." Yeah right.
First of all, it reminds me of old wrinkley powdered ladies with gloves and cracked tea cups. Not something that would necessarily sell drinking vodka, or tea for that matter. It has that overly perfumey roselike scent, (remember Liddle Kiddles from the 70s?) which in itself is unnerving coming from a martini glass. I'm not sure about the general population but I've never actually eaten a rose, consequently I can't objectively comment on the taste being rose-like or un-rose-like. What I can say is that you should never ever try this Vodka, no matter how pretty it looks.
I'm switchin' to Whiskey!
Their propaganda says different: "It is the most romantic vodka around, SHAKERS Rose, winner of the Best in Show award for flavored vodka at the 2004 World Spirits Competition and one of The Spirit Journal's top 50 spirits in the world." Yeah right.
First of all, it reminds me of old wrinkley powdered ladies with gloves and cracked tea cups. Not something that would necessarily sell drinking vodka, or tea for that matter. It has that overly perfumey roselike scent, (remember Liddle Kiddles from the 70s?) which in itself is unnerving coming from a martini glass. I'm not sure about the general population but I've never actually eaten a rose, consequently I can't objectively comment on the taste being rose-like or un-rose-like. What I can say is that you should never ever try this Vodka, no matter how pretty it looks.
I'm switchin' to Whiskey!
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