1. An app that generates an additional 2 days for every standard weekend.
2. An app to automatically whisk away songs stuck in your head for more than 3 days, like certain tunes from The Sound of Music, anything from Hall and Oats, and that song that starts out with “Heard it from a friend, who heard it from a frii-eeend who, heard it from another you’ve been messin’ around…”
3. An app connecting my phone to Bono’s. Come on, just give me 5 minutes…okay, 2 tops.
4. An app to turn spammers and computer virus developers into 3 legged spiders with herpes.
5. An app that would immediately let me know exactly how bad it is when Husband starts out a sentence with “Now don’t freak out, but…”
6. An app that is so cool that it is too cool to be called an “app.” I’m so over that word.
7. Obviously, an app to help me predict the future. Why haven’t they thought of this yet?
8. An app that can sense whether a soup of any kind was really made with chicken stock. I’ve got to be careful, okay.
9. Of course, an app to detect whether the person I’m talking to is actually listening, or doing 4-9 other things simultaneously.
10. And finally, an app to tell me the name and location of that Anonymous poster from a while back. Hell no, I’m not still thinking about that. What kind of dweller do you think I am?
What did I miss here? By the way, I don't even have an iPhone, but feel like I do with the market share of commercials consumed by Apple. For all I know, these could be existing apps.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
It's a Wrap
This Christmas was truly one of the most restful I remember. I left work on Wednesday at 3 pm and was able to completely put it out of my mind for the first time in a while.
I always have a weird sense of angst about presents with the Husb, since he’s getting pickier with age. But this year we gave ourselves the gift of a new bedroom floor instead of doing a traditional exchangeroo. It’s made from recycled materials and looks like wood. We love it. Dog loves it. Her nails make a sophisticated clicking sound as she trots across it in irregular patterns while tossing her new plush sheep and orange monkey toys to herself.
D-man is content with a new iPod nano and cell phone. Although…his thumbs are most likely in need of being Baker Acted at this point. On the way to my parents’ house on the east coast of Florida, he passed on a much needed trip to the toilet because he feared a text might come in that he wouldn’t be able to answer in seconds. I’m trying to go with the flow here. You know, be a good, cool mom. But sweet Jesus, that scares the daylights out of me.
So the pride and joy of many folks’ holiday revolves around the kitchen—that grandiose meal to emerge from hours of peeling, boiling, baking, concocting…whatever people do in that room of the house. Since I’m a self-proclaimed (and family-proclaimed) domestically disabled person, I don’t know much about the kitchen. But I will say that Husb prepared a most delightful Tofurkey dinner for me…mmmmm, so appealing…that I dined on while they consumed their pukey animal protein.
It was amazing. Quite unsurprisingly, I had the whole thing all to myself. You can see how difficult it must have been for them to pass on this Soy Wonder. They were lusting after it for sure.
Now one thing is for sure about Flanders. That dog loves, as in LOVES, a present to open. Doesn’t matter what it was. She literally anticipates each second counting down to the unwrapping, just like a kid. Here’s a “before” shot that sufficiently captures her smug confidence at what was to come:
Here’s a “during” shot:
And after she opened her three presents, plus tearing into Husb’s mother’s electric can opener, plus shredding wrapping from each one into minute pieces, here’s an “after” shot:
Ahhh, doesn’t that just make you want to curl up? My sweet street dog of 10.5 years calls it a wrap after being treated to some goodness for all of her selfless love.
I always have a weird sense of angst about presents with the Husb, since he’s getting pickier with age. But this year we gave ourselves the gift of a new bedroom floor instead of doing a traditional exchangeroo. It’s made from recycled materials and looks like wood. We love it. Dog loves it. Her nails make a sophisticated clicking sound as she trots across it in irregular patterns while tossing her new plush sheep and orange monkey toys to herself.
D-man is content with a new iPod nano and cell phone. Although…his thumbs are most likely in need of being Baker Acted at this point. On the way to my parents’ house on the east coast of Florida, he passed on a much needed trip to the toilet because he feared a text might come in that he wouldn’t be able to answer in seconds. I’m trying to go with the flow here. You know, be a good, cool mom. But sweet Jesus, that scares the daylights out of me.
So the pride and joy of many folks’ holiday revolves around the kitchen—that grandiose meal to emerge from hours of peeling, boiling, baking, concocting…whatever people do in that room of the house. Since I’m a self-proclaimed (and family-proclaimed) domestically disabled person, I don’t know much about the kitchen. But I will say that Husb prepared a most delightful Tofurkey dinner for me…mmmmm, so appealing…that I dined on while they consumed their pukey animal protein.
It was amazing. Quite unsurprisingly, I had the whole thing all to myself. You can see how difficult it must have been for them to pass on this Soy Wonder. They were lusting after it for sure.
Now one thing is for sure about Flanders. That dog loves, as in LOVES, a present to open. Doesn’t matter what it was. She literally anticipates each second counting down to the unwrapping, just like a kid. Here’s a “before” shot that sufficiently captures her smug confidence at what was to come:
Here’s a “during” shot:
And after she opened her three presents, plus tearing into Husb’s mother’s electric can opener, plus shredding wrapping from each one into minute pieces, here’s an “after” shot:
Ahhh, doesn’t that just make you want to curl up? My sweet street dog of 10.5 years calls it a wrap after being treated to some goodness for all of her selfless love.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Some People Never Learn...
That would be me. I haven't shared on Gropius in more than a few days because my dear, sweet, loving, wonderful PC has once again been infected with a skanky virus. It's in the PC doctor's office now and I hope to get it back soon so that I can share a few funnies with you from over the Christmas break. Some priceless moments include a photo of Husband holding up the less-than-appealing Tofurkey he prepared for me on Christmas, some texting tales from D-Man's new life as a 13 year old cell phone owner, etc.
Hoping you all have had many holiday delights! You deserve the treasure of relaxation and joy this time of year and throughout the coming months.
Let me repeat: those who are responsible for computer viruses are destined to be fleas on roaches' backsides in future life times.
One day I will learn and get a Mac. Hope to see you tomorrow with a healthy computer.
Hoping you all have had many holiday delights! You deserve the treasure of relaxation and joy this time of year and throughout the coming months.
Let me repeat: those who are responsible for computer viruses are destined to be fleas on roaches' backsides in future life times.
One day I will learn and get a Mac. Hope to see you tomorrow with a healthy computer.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
The Space for Possibilities
Thanks to Cynthia at Running with Letters for this quotable quote in her post, taken from a column she wrote about the holidays in 2004:
“Being still means keeping space open for possibilities.
It means leaving room for moments of wonder.
It means not running the risk of being “too full” to assist in a miracle.”
I’m taking the time over the rest of this week and next to make a plan for possibilities. For my space has become a cluttered collection of time spent on too many projects to make a real difference in any of them. My plan must include space to be less rushed but more deliberate, less worried but more thoughtful in entertaining the endless goings-on in my mind, less influenced but more able to listen with both ears.
Christmas is a time for reflection, gratitude and love, right? We yearn for that one day when nothing is expected of us but togetherness. But it wasn’t meant to be singular in its celebration. If I know the meaning, I hope to make it an every day sort of thing. I’ve particularly enjoyed Julia’s Thank You Project, finding something short and sweet to be thankful for in every day. Short and sweet but meaningful. It's often the shortest proclamations and reflections that have the most meaning, as any great writer (not me!) could tell you. What a lovely inspiration.
Wishes for a Merry Christmas to you and everyone in your life. Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Creative Christmas
Let me say, reading your blogs has left me amazed at all of the creativity out there centered on Christmas and other things. Your stuff for sale on Etsy, for one. I’m probably the last to hear about it, but now that I have, I’m in love with it. What a extraordinary place to support small business and people who are making beautiful art, jewelry, vases and more out of their homes—stuff you couldn’t find in a store if you had to. Very cool.
We don’t talk too much about Christmas at work, since about a quarter of our staff (who are very awesome people, by the way) don’t celebrate holidays. So yesterday, there was the coolest staff appreciation party, and part of the deal was a “white elephant” gift exchange—you know, one of those “choose a gift and steal someone else’s if you don’t like yours?”
We all brought an unwanted item from our home that would theoretically have some appeal for others, wrapped it in non-holiday paper and each chose a numbered ticket. Although the first numbers had a better pick of the anonymously wrapped gifts on the table, the latter numbers had a better choice in terms of hijacking opened gifts. It was funny and festive. And a nice way to say “Hey, the economy sucks. Re-use something from your house. It will be funnier, better for the environment, and you won’t have to buy anything.”
Candle holders galore, a few books that no one wanted, frequently stolen bottles of wine, a UF Gators baseball hat, a Kleenex holder, and a shoebox of treasures from a desk drawer were among the re-gifted items.
So check out this Christmas tree. It is made entirely from found materials around the home and is a creation of a local artist who’s married to one of Husband’s co-workers. How’s this for creativity? It’s even cute. Wish I had a better picture.
We bought a live tree this year instead of Old Petroleum, our fake Frasier Fir. I’m thinking of some better ideas for disposal than the curb when it’s time for her to go. (After all, 3 years ago my freaking car was wrecked when a dump truck shed a Christmas tree in the road. Because there were people in all 3 lanes of traffic, and the tree appeared before me like a blazing comet, I had no choice but to hit it.)
Before I sign off for today, thanks for all of your meaningful thoughts on the post below. The comments are worth a read if you have the time. Enjoy your day and happy blogging.
We don’t talk too much about Christmas at work, since about a quarter of our staff (who are very awesome people, by the way) don’t celebrate holidays. So yesterday, there was the coolest staff appreciation party, and part of the deal was a “white elephant” gift exchange—you know, one of those “choose a gift and steal someone else’s if you don’t like yours?”
We all brought an unwanted item from our home that would theoretically have some appeal for others, wrapped it in non-holiday paper and each chose a numbered ticket. Although the first numbers had a better pick of the anonymously wrapped gifts on the table, the latter numbers had a better choice in terms of hijacking opened gifts. It was funny and festive. And a nice way to say “Hey, the economy sucks. Re-use something from your house. It will be funnier, better for the environment, and you won’t have to buy anything.”
Candle holders galore, a few books that no one wanted, frequently stolen bottles of wine, a UF Gators baseball hat, a Kleenex holder, and a shoebox of treasures from a desk drawer were among the re-gifted items.
So check out this Christmas tree. It is made entirely from found materials around the home and is a creation of a local artist who’s married to one of Husband’s co-workers. How’s this for creativity? It’s even cute. Wish I had a better picture.
We bought a live tree this year instead of Old Petroleum, our fake Frasier Fir. I’m thinking of some better ideas for disposal than the curb when it’s time for her to go. (After all, 3 years ago my freaking car was wrecked when a dump truck shed a Christmas tree in the road. Because there were people in all 3 lanes of traffic, and the tree appeared before me like a blazing comet, I had no choice but to hit it.)
Before I sign off for today, thanks for all of your meaningful thoughts on the post below. The comments are worth a read if you have the time. Enjoy your day and happy blogging.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
What's Happened to American Dialogue?
Now Gropius has always been a place for everyone—short and fat (and gaining like me from all of the junk food at work), tall and thin, black and white, liberal and conservative, etc. Especially that last one. I’ve pretty much had it up to my eyeballs with people who have different political views and can’t still get along. What the hell? We’re all people, right?
One of my favorite people at work couldn’t be more different than me when it comes to politics, but I love to talk to him because we challenge each other’s beliefs. We'e both very educated about the issues on which we share dialogue. And although we’ll never convince the other to change, we respect one another and in the end, it’s really just about two people having a passionate conversation. And true to form with Gropius, even if you respectfully disagree with my opinion, your comment is very welcome. I truly appreciate different points of view.
So here’s our new Gropius friend. Someone who just left a comment (on the wrong entry I might add) to a statement I made here:
“Here's the infamous border fence, keeping our America safe from pot, people and...hmmm....wait? What's it for?"
It’s true, some patrolling of our border may be necessary for many reasons, but the fence? I do happen to find it just atrocious. Maybe you feel differently. That’s fine. Isn’t that why we can live in this place called America? If you find yourself hating people who have different political views, I think the problem is yours, my friend.
Here’s what our friend said about my comment above in red:
After all, only marijuana gets smuggled across the Border. Not heroin, cocaine, weapons and terrorists. It is only pot. RIGHT. Wow, you really are ignorant.
To many uneducated liberals, the Border Fence may just be that.
I'm sure you think that most illegal aliens are just coming over to work and find a better life. Unfortunatley, a majority of them have backgrounds that include rape, murder, drug smuggling, and numerous other felonies. But I'm sure that doesnt matter to a left wing douche like you.
Let's just open the country to them. After all, they aren't coming to your neighborhood, are they? The luxury that you have is that you don't really know what happens in these Border towns and you can cry and bitch all you want, but the fact remains that if the Border Patrol wasn't around, your life as you know it would not exist.
Like I said, different opinions are important to me. They help all of us to continue re-thinking and evaluating our stances and enable us to find new solutions. But honestly, Anonymous, if you’re that intelligent, maybe you could discuss the issue intelligently. You made quite a few assumptions about what I know and don't know. How presumptuous of you.
“You really know what happens in these border towns?” Clearly you would be surprised to know all of the research I have done on the issue and having just come from a border town, I've seen a few things for myself. We just feel a little differently about this. And one of us knows a little more about having an adult conversation. "Douche?" That's so 80's.
Here's the point:
Isn’t it sad that Anonymous and so many other Americans are losing the ability to talk to one another humanely when they disagree? I was just chatting up this topic with a fellow blogger before Anonymous delighted my morning by proving a point.
My 13 YEAR OLD is more educated in having conversations. If Anonymous was really feeling smart about his comment and conduct, he would have included his name.
One of the biggest opportunities we have here in today's devisive American climate is to be friendly with and/or respectful of those who feel differently about the big issues. It will only benefit you and the country as a whole. Comments on either side welcome. As long as you're decent.
One of my favorite people at work couldn’t be more different than me when it comes to politics, but I love to talk to him because we challenge each other’s beliefs. We'e both very educated about the issues on which we share dialogue. And although we’ll never convince the other to change, we respect one another and in the end, it’s really just about two people having a passionate conversation. And true to form with Gropius, even if you respectfully disagree with my opinion, your comment is very welcome. I truly appreciate different points of view.
So here’s our new Gropius friend. Someone who just left a comment (on the wrong entry I might add) to a statement I made here:
“Here's the infamous border fence, keeping our America safe from pot, people and...hmmm....wait? What's it for?"
It’s true, some patrolling of our border may be necessary for many reasons, but the fence? I do happen to find it just atrocious. Maybe you feel differently. That’s fine. Isn’t that why we can live in this place called America? If you find yourself hating people who have different political views, I think the problem is yours, my friend.
Here’s what our friend said about my comment above in red:
After all, only marijuana gets smuggled across the Border. Not heroin, cocaine, weapons and terrorists. It is only pot. RIGHT. Wow, you really are ignorant.
To many uneducated liberals, the Border Fence may just be that.
I'm sure you think that most illegal aliens are just coming over to work and find a better life. Unfortunatley, a majority of them have backgrounds that include rape, murder, drug smuggling, and numerous other felonies. But I'm sure that doesnt matter to a left wing douche like you.
Let's just open the country to them. After all, they aren't coming to your neighborhood, are they? The luxury that you have is that you don't really know what happens in these Border towns and you can cry and bitch all you want, but the fact remains that if the Border Patrol wasn't around, your life as you know it would not exist.
Like I said, different opinions are important to me. They help all of us to continue re-thinking and evaluating our stances and enable us to find new solutions. But honestly, Anonymous, if you’re that intelligent, maybe you could discuss the issue intelligently. You made quite a few assumptions about what I know and don't know. How presumptuous of you.
“You really know what happens in these border towns?” Clearly you would be surprised to know all of the research I have done on the issue and having just come from a border town, I've seen a few things for myself. We just feel a little differently about this. And one of us knows a little more about having an adult conversation. "Douche?" That's so 80's.
Here's the point:
Isn’t it sad that Anonymous and so many other Americans are losing the ability to talk to one another humanely when they disagree? I was just chatting up this topic with a fellow blogger before Anonymous delighted my morning by proving a point.
My 13 YEAR OLD is more educated in having conversations. If Anonymous was really feeling smart about his comment and conduct, he would have included his name.
One of the biggest opportunities we have here in today's devisive American climate is to be friendly with and/or respectful of those who feel differently about the big issues. It will only benefit you and the country as a whole. Comments on either side welcome. As long as you're decent.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Canyons, Babies and Fences
It's been a few. One day I will learn and just get a Mac, but in the meantime I am suffering the old fashioned way--with computer viruses. (And human viruses from travel...er um, I have completely lost my voice.) Thank goodness dear IT man was able to clear the nasty infection from its new life on my PC without me losing anything. So at long last, here are some pics as I blog in voiceless silence at 2:30 a.m. (courtesy of Flanders' wee morning pee run).
The Texas babe was a treasure. Just beginning to smile, every now and then she would flash a quick one for us. She loves her hands and is very expressive using them in dramatic poses on her face as she sleeps.
Bro took me out on Lake Amistad, an enormous 66,000 acre, duck-filled wonder, produced from daming the Rio Grande River. Coots, green winged teal, white pelicans (9 foot wing span), an American wood cock, and my personal fave--the dramatic-in-red scarlet tanager--were seen in various spots along our journey. We stopped the boat to get out and walk and found a charming dry creek bed filled with deer tracks, cacti and sounds from birdies we don't have in this part of the states. More photos are on the Flickr stream (see right), but here are a few to give you a taste:
Now the terrain in and around Del Rio was pretty freaking crispy. Not too much vegetation with a dull grayish-brown pervading the color wheel on all sides. But there were treasures in the morning fog and in small things that maintain a beauty of their own:
Sis-in-law, baby and I went on a 45 minute drive to the canyons near the intersection of the Pecos and Rio Grande Rivers. Here I spoke with a sweet local fisherman, met my first ever canyon wren and heard goats calling from a cave within the canyon where, apparently, they stay during the night to avoid a grim fate induced by mountain lion capture.
The Texas babe was a treasure. Just beginning to smile, every now and then she would flash a quick one for us. She loves her hands and is very expressive using them in dramatic poses on her face as she sleeps.
Bro took me out on Lake Amistad, an enormous 66,000 acre, duck-filled wonder, produced from daming the Rio Grande River. Coots, green winged teal, white pelicans (9 foot wing span), an American wood cock, and my personal fave--the dramatic-in-red scarlet tanager--were seen in various spots along our journey. We stopped the boat to get out and walk and found a charming dry creek bed filled with deer tracks, cacti and sounds from birdies we don't have in this part of the states. More photos are on the Flickr stream (see right), but here are a few to give you a taste:
Now the terrain in and around Del Rio was pretty freaking crispy. Not too much vegetation with a dull grayish-brown pervading the color wheel on all sides. But there were treasures in the morning fog and in small things that maintain a beauty of their own:
Here's the infamous border fence, keeping our America safe from pot, people and...hmmm....wait? What's it for? It was quite different than I imagined. This was taken near a station just outside of Del Rio.
And to end on a high note, Del Rio and surrounding area have fabulous sunsets. A special thank you to my family hosts. They were the best and I miss them already.
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