Pet Peeves and Vice Versa

Today I have a peeved pet and a pet peeve.

The pet is "Fluffy," our oldest cat. She has a serious 'ear gunk' problem. The vet advised us to clean out her ears weekly with a rubbing-alcohol-soaked Q-tip. I don't blame the vet for giving such ridiculous advice. He's never lived with Fluffy so he doesn't know how hard she'll fight to avoid that Q-tip.

My pet peeve is another issue entirely. I hate when anyone says 'they say' without giving the slightest hint who 'they' might be. But I've already blogged that. My new 'they' peeve is when a whole group is implicated.

Examples:

1. Women?  Yeah, they wear those high heels to make their butts stick out.
2. Muslims? Yeah, they want to kill us all.
3. Men?      Yeah, they love the big boobs.

Many men enjoy ogling big boobs, but not all of them. A have a gay friend who works out every day so he won't have those dreaded 'man boobs.' Some men would rather ogle a derrière. and others simply prefer a sleek, trim look.

Many, many Muslims live here peacefully, and many more would love a chance to live anywhere that was peaceful and safe. Just as Exodus 20:13 in the Bible says "Thou shalt not kill," Koran 6:151 says, “Do not kill a soul that God has made."

I don't know any woman who wants her butt to stick out. Many of us feel our butts are too big, and would happily wear clown shoes if they made our butts NOT stick out. I used to wear platform shoes or heels to make me look taller, therefore slimmer. Now that I'm older and wiser, I wear comfy shoes.

OK, I've finished my rant about my pet peeve and I feel much better. Now to apologize to Fluffy, who is glaring at me and making plans to throw up on the good rug.

Cats? Yeah, they hate having their ears cleaned.

Chute - 2, Ladder - 0

I have depression, medically diagnosed and currently untreated.

It's quite a handicap. It takes hours to 'psych myself up' to finish a task. If it's significant, like cooking a holiday meal, or catching up with multiple loads of dishes, I have to give myself numerous 'pep talks' to start and finish the job.

If I'm interrupted by something else, I have to start at zero and work my way back up. Remember the old board game called 'chutes and ladders?' It's like that, only no ladders. You struggle upward, step by step, and hope to hell you don't land on a chute.

I've tried medications. They cost a lot, they didn't work, and their side effects made my life worse. There are 'new' medications that 'might' work, with even 'worse' side effects, but 'Big Pharma' has gotten its last 'cha-ching' from this 'guinea pig'.

If the cure might kill me faster than the disease, I'd just as soon live with the depression. It isn't fatal unless I kill myself. (I wouldn't unless I could save the world doing so, like the old pilot in Independence Day. Since I can't fly... unlikely.)

There are lifestyle adjustments that can help. One can get lots of light, eat the right stuff, exercise, and set lower expectations. I can manage 3 tasks a day without overload. Normal people can do more, and good for them. I have to pick and choose.

Which finally brings me to the point. Yesterday was a 5-task day. (Holy chute, Batman!) There was a neighborhood block party I thought I should attend. I hate parties, really hate them, but one needs to know one's neighbors. It was a 'pot luck,' so I made cookies. Between the cookies and the party, it was 2 tasks too many.

Last night I could barely hobble to bed, let alone finish a blog ("task 6"). Today everything hurts and I'm behind on all the little stuff I should have done yesterday. (Yep... if you ignore do-as-you-go stuff, it piles up and morphs into another task.)

So far today I haven't landed on a chute so I might get caught up and get my 3 tasks done. Yaaaay! Another few steps forward on the game board.

MahWrong

I've been cheating on 'World of Warcraft' with a Mahjong game I recently purchased, and  it's getting complicated! I tell myself Mahjong is just to fill in that 'idle time' when my Warcraft toon is flying from Point A to Point B, but I'm not fooling anybody.

It wasn't so bad when my toon reached the destination and stood there waiting for me to move it. The game notes that you are AFK (away from keyboard). Lots of players do that. If the phone or doorbell rings, or the cat barfs, of course you have to step away.

If you're away longer than that, your toon gets logged out. No big deal. You just have to click on them again and you're back in the game. That is, unless you're away for even longer. Then you have to log into the whole game again, password and all.

Then comes the time when your toon is in the thick of battle, and runs out of 'bad guys' to kill. Ordinarily one just waits. The 'bad guys' respawn in less than a minute, so you can have another shot at them. But that minute is just enough to click on a few more Mahjong tiles...

Those dratted Mahjong tiles keep matching, and the clock is ticking. I might break my old record! WoW can wait. Or can it? Mahjong ended with the 2 last tiles stacked on top of each other... a loss. Drat!

Back to World of Warcraft. I have to log in again, retype the password, and figure out what I was doing. My toon is dead, killed by the respawned 'bad guys.' The repairs to the damaged armor cost lots of in-game gold. I'll have to fight more battles to earn that gold back.

It's only a matter of time until I'm asking my in-game buddies to cover for me. They'll do it at first. We all help each other out. But eventually they'll notice that they're doing all the work, and I'm just pretending that I'm still on the team.

Meanwhile, there's my blog. It's impossible to find time for that while I juggle two games that don't know about each other. This daily deadline is unrealistic. It's not like anybody reads the blog anyway.

Looks like it's time to have a talk with Mahjong. She won't take it well. I already hinted to her that Warcraft and I were breaking up. It might get ugly.

What's Entertainment?

I'm getting tired of the words that blare from the TV in the other room. The sports channels can't stop talking about the NFL players who abuse people or drugs in their personal lives.

At first I was amused. It's funny to watch NFL big-wigs tap dance around violence issues, especially since the league has denied head-injury issues from Day 1. They're good at sweeping stuff under the carpet, so it was fun to hear that they couldn't this time.

They're sinking deeper into the quicksand, blathering on about role models and personal conduct. They need to address the real issue, and the sooner the better. It's money. They want to maximize viewership so they can attract lucrative sponsorship. Why not just say so?

They need butts in stadium seats and on TV-room couches. Why not ask which direction to go to keep the viewers viewing? I wonder what football fans would choose.

The high road might be the answer. There's nothing wrong with higher safety standards, good sportsmanship, and honest athleticism. If viewers also want players' personal conduct to be above reproach, add that to the drafting process. It's still going to be over-the-top, action-packed, and star-studded.

Fans might also choose to watch the best players in spite of their many flaws. If that is how the wallets vote, maybe it's time to step down from the pulpit and leave the policing to the police. Maybe fans don't care what the players do off the field.

Just because I don't actively watch sports doesn't mean that I'm off the hook for those sorts of decisions. How do you enjoy anything any person does if you hate their personal conduct? Not easy.

What if Churchill couldn't have been prime minister because of his lifestyle? Am I allowed to enjoy Woody Allen movies? Can I like GW Bush's paintings if I disliked his presidency? May I adore watching 'Thriller' every Halloween? Should I boycott books by Poe and Hemingway? Songs by Whitney Houston?

I think I'd just as soon enjoy entertainment for its own sake, and not worry about how the entertainers live their lives. So if I actively watched football, I know what I'd choose. Ironically, I prefer to watch tennis because it's so well-behaved and civilized. Go figure.

Air Mask

I should visit our aging relatives in faraway cities. I should become more active in our neighborhood watch group. I should get out and volunteer, make friends, and meet people in the community.

But first I need to 'put on my own air mask'. You've all traveled on airlines and heard those pre-flight instructions, right? If the masks drop, put on your own first. Then assist others. It's common sense. You're no help to others if you're not OK.

This advice applies to everything, not just to air-mask emergencies. I used to do volunteer work. Nothing was worse than fellow volunteers who couldn't show up. Good reason? Lame reason? No difference. You counted on them being there. They weren't.

We often don't take care of ourselves. It seems selfish to spend time, money, and attention on yourself. However, if the expenditure makes you ready to deal with family emergencies, instead of not showing up, maybe you should get out the wallet? Spend the time?

Here's an example. We need a cat/house sitter on call. We can't have one unless things improve here. We have doors that don't lock unless closed exactly right. The faucet dribbles unless you shut it off the right way. There are stacks of stuff that block hallways and doorways. It's all gotta be fixed if we hire a sitter.

We also have a cat who knows all the hiding places to avoid her twice-daily insulin shot (the one that keeps her alive). We need to set things up so that she is accessible to the cat-sitter no matter what. These things take time and effort that we can't accomplish without help.

Yep, it's time to review what's selfish vs. what's needed to be ready to cope. We need to fix what's broken. We need to be ready to grab the air mask when it drops.

Not Scot-Free

Scotland has been in the news lately. There was an election yesterday, and voters had a chance to vote "yes" to independence from Great Britain... after 307 years of being 'second banana' to them.

As an American, this whole situation surprised me in more ways than one:

1. We understand wanting to be independent from Great Britain. Why was there even debate?
2. 307 YEARS? It took us, um, a bit less than that.
3. Hey-wait-a-minute. They got to cast a ballot? The Yanks had to freeze their feet off in a revolutionary war, and Scotland only had to make a mark on a piece of paper?

I put my amazement aside and skimmed through a few articles. The tone of the rhetoric sounded exactly like a long-married couple contemplating divorce!

Scot - "I'm so tired of everything being you, you, you! When was the last time I got my say in government?"

Brit - "You didn't make it clear how upset you were. I thought you were just whining to be whining. Like your damn bagpipes."

Scot - "Asking for decentralized power and fewer regional inequities Is NOT whining, you pompous arse."

Brit - "If you divorce me, that's it for you. You can't use my money anymore."

Scot - "And when I leave I'm taking custody of the oil. No more bailouts for your poker buddies."

Brit - "I'd take the banks and all of our friends. No one will help you. Look, just vote no. I promise you'll get more representation. Pleeeeze give it another go."

Scot - "Weeeelll, ok, but only because my grandparents still like you. And I'm keeping the divorce lawyer on speed-dial."

(That evening at the poker game)

Brit - "So I had to promise her greater powers and autonomy."

Poker buddies - "Fool! Next thing you know she'll want to be dealt into the game."

I'm a bit disappointed that Scotland didn't pull it off. I was looking forward to their new currency. Would it be plaid? And whose face would be on it? Oh sure, David Tennant would have to be on the 10, but which denomination would feature Karen Gillan?

GroceryQuest: A Mixed Bag

Yesterday I took steps to convert my kitchen to a non-cooking zone. I made my way to the grocery store, determined to find non-processed, labor-free food to fuel a healthier new lifestyle.

There were mixed results. There are foods nobody has messed with. Shelled almonds and pecans seemed less bad for me than popcorn with mysterious 'butter flavor' chemicals. Frozen vegetables are already chopped and nuke-ready. I added those to the cart.

Organic grass-fed burger meat was $8.99 for a 1-pound package. I guess the drought has made grass scarce, so the price of Bossy's diet is being passed on to consumers. I kept walking.

There were other affordable meats that would fit in the crock pot without fuss, so  I got those. Slow cooking is still cooking, and it creates a dirty dish, but you can ignore it for hours without consequences. and the meals-to-dirty-dish ratio (3:1) is pretty good.

The deli had pre-cooked ribs and the butcher had chicken cordon blah (it's kinda bland, but there's nothing weird in it). The produce section had chopped onions, mushrooms, and broccoli. So far, so good.

We were in a hurry, so I grabbed a few things based on their easy cooking instructions. There were meals-in-a-bag in the frozen vegetable section. One throws the whole bag in the microwave and that's it. No piercing, flipping, or stirring. Cool.

I also picked up a popular egg substitute, thinking it would be easier and maybe a bit healthier.

Back home, as I was putting things away, I read the ingredients of the 'healthy egg substitute.' Good heavens! It looked like a chemistry experiment from Hell. Alarmed, I turned to the vegetable meals. Sure enough, a big string of 8-syllable chemicals.

Imagine inventing such awesome packaging and then putting garbage in it. Why couldn't the ingredients read: "vegetables, brown rice (not genetically modified), olive oil, chicken broth, salt" ?

So the trip wasn't perfect. I need to keep looking for Perfect Packaging and Portioning Paired with Pristine, Palatable, Healthy Treats. I need to forward that message to food manufacturers... PPPPPHT!

No Ifs, Ands, or (Cat) Butts

We have 4 cats, and we love them dearly. Yet I must admit, it's a very good thing the front side of them is so cute, because the back side can be very difficult to deal with.

We're constantly 'mooned' by the little rascals. Whenever we scratch their backs they go into their 'elevator butt' routine. Not their best look! But that's nothing compared to other issues.

When "Fluffy" has a problem with gas, she comes straight to me to indicate she's not feeling well. I make soothing noises and she settles down for a nap at my feet. Then she passes gas. Yow! The other cats wander by, and I wonder what they're saying to each other. Probably:

Snookums - (sniffing) "Good grief, Fluffy, what did you eat?"
Fluffy ------ "It wasn't me! Honest! It was the human!"
Snookums - "Yeah, blame the human. Nice try."

Then there's "Kittyboy," who is sometimes too impatient to finish his business in the litterbox. He's afraid he'll miss out on some fun play time. He must be playing Star Trek, judging by the occasional Klingons we find.

"Kittygirl" has a gland (or something) that secretes when she is happy and relaxed. She reaches that state when she's snuggling in a lap, purring up a storm. One minute, a purrfest, next minute, skunkfest. Time to change clothes.

Me ----- "Heads-up, Dear. Kittygirl is in 'snuggle' mode'."
Hubby - "Thanks for the warning. I'll put on my hazmat suit."

All of these are nothing compared to "Snookums." She once had an issue with digestion and hygiene, and she could not get her hindquarters clean. Nor could we. Snookums is a biter and a fighter, and we didn't feel like getting our skin torn off.

The vet suggested a 'sanitary trim.' It's basically a buzz cut to remove the befouled fur. It worked, but she looked ridiculous! The most expensive bad haircut ever. If you think getting 'mooned' by a cat is bad, try getting 'mooned' by a cat who's had a sanitary trim.

Considering how many yards of toilet paper the quartet of cats unrolls, you'd think they'd learn to 'wipe.' Well, I guess they have. But (sigh) they use the good rug.

Now We're (not) Cooking

For years I've been telling myself that I might be a better cook if only... if only what? If only Hubby and I ate the same food at the same time? If only I had more practice? If only we had better appliances?

It's time to stop kidding myself. I might be a better cook if only I wanted to. I don't. There are so many wonderful things I haven't done yet, that I really want to do. At my age, I'd better get moving if I want to do a fraction of them.

Cooking isn't on the list. I don't even want a kitchen in the house. All it does is fill up with dirty dishes, whether I cook anything or not.

I love to watch the Food Network, but not to learn how to cook things. I love seeing dishes produced when I don't have to do the producing. I love to see how they are made. I might want to order them someday.

The comedy and the fiction on that network also amuse me. The 'meals in x number of minutes' are a perfect example. The clock hasn't started, yet every ingredient is cleaned, chopped, measured, and put in a separate little dish to be pan-ready. Oh yes, and the pan is ready too...greased and pre-heated.

Who did that? Elves? How long did that take? Will the elves stay to wash all of those dratted little dishes afterwards? I hope they do the pans too, so they're ready for the next 'meal-it-only-takes-x-minutes-to-make.'

Basically, prep work is a 'time suck.' Melons don't scoop themselves, veggies don't chop themselves, steaks don't shed their silverskins, and even pre-washed food needs to be washed. Bah.

So I don't want to cook. Fine. What happens if I tell my skillets to skedaddle, and tell my stove to stuff it? Well, one problem is... what to eat?

I need to get healthier and get this weight off. Yet a frozen meal from a weight-loss company, is processed food. It could be packed with sugar, preservatives, and enough sodium for a party of 12. Not to mention the genetic modification. No.No.

Simple, prepared, ready-to-eat food is out there. It's a matter of redefining "meals." I need to do some 'homework' at the grocery store. I need to do some 'homework' at the computer. But I don't need to do more 'homework' in the kitchen. Not like I could. It's full of dirty dishes.

Goin' Off the Grid

One gets so discouraged. Food prices are soaring; so are utilities and housing and transportation costs, yet we make less money. Our government is spying on all of us. The financial sector looks like a big, fragile bubble. The phone rings constantly, with pleas for support for yet another scam or cause (probably both).

There are days when I'd love to go off the grid. Of course I can't. I'm too old, and too established in the existing system. I haven't the training or knowledge to be self sufficient, and certainly not the discipline. One day without my morning coffee and I'd be back.

I suppose a young, healthy family could survive off-grid if they had a snug cabin, solar panels, a well, and an acre or two. As long as the chickens, goats, and garden keep producing, these modern pioneers could survive.

Too bad their kids would hate them. I have a friend who left her prosperous parents to 'live off the land' with her idealistic husband. They managed for awhile, though sharing a river with snakes and bugs wasn't ideal for laundry and such. She said it became unmanageable when they had kids.

Sounds right. There are limits to how off-grid the kiddies can be kept. Kids must go to town for dentists and immunizations. Kids meet other kids. Other kids' parents have cool stuff like minivans with TV, and cell phones and cash. Cash buys more cool stuff, e.g. clothes and fast food. Picture it:

Mom -- "Kids! It's time to milk the goats."
Kids -- "We hate the goats. They stink. Other kids don't have to milk goats."
Mom -- "We need the milk and cheese. You wouldn't like starving."
Kids -- "They have these cool places called McDonalds nowadays."
Mom -- "Stay away from that place and GO MILK THE DAMN GOATS!"
Dad -- (later that day) "The kids went to town carrying "PLEASE ADOPT ME" signs again."

So... 'gridless' seems to be a challenge for anyone, even an imaginary family. Maybe the best bet is to cut back where possible, and strive for a more sustainable lifestyle.

I'll think about that as I finish my coffee and plan tonight's dinner. (I'm thinking pizza with goat cheese.)

Pendulum

I'm old enough now that I've seen the pendulum swing too far in both directions on ever-so-many issues.

For example, the pendulum is overdue for its return swing in regard to "big business" owning the government. Among superpacs, political campaigns, and lobbyists gone wild, the political scene is rather skewed. And that's just one example.

I'm pleased to see another pendulum on the downswing. NCAA's rules for college athletes are beyond absurd. How did it get so bad that University of Connecticut's Shabazz Napier had to go to bed "starving" many nights because he can't afford food?

It's true. It's a violation to provide any food for a college athlete. If practice runs late (which is often) and a player misses the on-campus food service, nobody can give that player so much as a potato chip. Check it out here:

It's especially ironic because a college's football and basketball teams bring in insanely large amounts for colleges. Coaches for a Division I team are the highest paid person on the campus. ("Need a loan, Dean? I can spare a few hundred grand.")

True, a player or two might make it to the pros. But wait wut? There are dozens of others who don't? Their bodies got beaten up every week? They made multi-millions for the college? Yet they can't even afford a suit for job interviews?

Hmmm. If you get a 'full ride' chemistry scholarship you only have to keep your grades up. They don't take it away if you don't happen to invent something. If you break your leg you don't lose the scholarship. If you take a part-time job for spare change to buy some jeans, good for you.

The way the pendulum is swinging, college players are finally going to get a respectable stipend. Good! They more than deserve it.

But what are we going to do with all these rules? The NCAA spend a lot of time devising restrictions and penalties for these violations.

I have it! Let's get the NCAA to write rules for Congress! ("What's this? A $100,000 contribution with no name attached? You have to sit out this term, Congressperson! And that bill you passed last term is revoked!")

The only problem would be those $1000-a-plate dinners. On-campus food service might get grumpy if the guests are late.

Support Net Neutrality

Today is the day many of us are telling the FCC to reclassify ISPs as common carriers.

What's this about?   On May 15, 2014, the Federal Communications Commission's chairman, Tom Wheeler, proposed rules that would allow ISPs (ISP = Internet Service Providers) to charge extra fees for preferential treatment. ISPs are the people you pay to get access to the internet. Familiar names are AT&T, Comcast, Time Warner Cable and Verizon. (Yep... the 'poster children' for bad customer service.)

The ISPs could charge content providers extra fees. If they pay, their content will show up on viewers' screens. If they don't pay, the content might or might not show up. It will definitely show up more slowly than content from those who paid the bribe. (Big-name content providers are Google, Netflix, Youtube, and Hulu.)

What is Net Neutrality?   Just a name to go by. It's way shorter than, "The cause championed by people who think ISPs should not block, discriminate against, or charge-extra-for-quicker-service-for any applications or content on the internet." Just as your phone company cannot decide who you could call and what you say on that call, your ISP should not be concerned with what content you view or post online.

If you're thinking that some content should be blocked, please remember that money, not ethics, will be the deciding factor. If "Rich Ralph's Raunchy Porn Site" pays for fast service, they get a spot in the fast lane. If "Poor Church Mouse's Food Bank" doesn't pay, donors and hungry folks will have to wait for the site to appear on their monitor. 

Shouldn't the courts stop this?  On the contrary, the court’s January 2014 ruling eliminated the only existing Net Neutrality protections on the books. ISPs already have the ability to block websites and applications. They can slow down its competitors or block political opinions it disagrees with.

What's the worst that could happen?  Internet blackouts. Smaller websites won't display. Tweets, emails and texts mysteriously delayed or dropped. Videos load slowly, if at all. Websites will work fine one minute, and time out another. Your ISP will say it’s not their fault. You’ll have no idea who to blame. Switching ISPs won't help, they'll all do this.

Exclusive deals could become the norm, with AT&T exclusively bringing you Netflix or Time Warner Cable as the sole source for YouTube. Expect to pay much more if you want good access to everything you view today.

Can we stop this nonsense?  All this abuse can happen because the FCC reclassified ISP giants as 'information services.' The FCC can re-rule and designate them as 'common carriers.' If this happens, the ISP giants will have to follow the rules everybody else follows. You may  CLICK HERE  to tell the FCC to do just that.

Reversed Call on Head Injury

The sports world is a-buzz with the Ray Rice suspension. If you live in a no-sports zone, Ray is a promising young running back. He got in a scuffle with his fiancee in a hotel elevator. He side-armed her. Her head hit the wall so hard she was knocked unconscious.

His fiancee married him anyhow. Ray was suspended for 2 games. All was settled until today. The media got access to the security tape of the incident, and keep showing it. People were more shocked seeing it than hearing about it. Rice was suspended indefinitely.

Hubby was watching sports last night, so when I turned on the TV this morning the sports channel was playing the tape. I idly wondered, as I changed the channel, why a woman would marry a man after that incident.

Then I felt ashamed for being judgemental. I have no idea of what preceded and followed the incident. Was alcohol involved? If so, how much? Was violence typical in the relationship, or not? I had no idea. I've never met either of them. She chose to marry him, so she must have her reasons. Maybe it really wasn't typical behavior.

Maybe it was the money thing. Using words from Jane Austin's Elizabeth Bennett, "... in a prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her." How often do you have a chance at money like that? Opportunities for a 7-figure income are few and far between. If she's been with him all this time, why would she abandon ship when it's finally pay day?

Besides money, there is love. This couple has a 3-year-old, so it's not like they don't have a commitment. If they were both willing, they could turn things around. They would have the means and motivation to get the best counseling, life-coaching, and therapy possible.

They'd also have the whole NFL audience keeping an eye on them, which would be annoying, but also would be a great deterrent for any future missteps.

This isn't the NFL's finest hour. They reversed their previous decision. They pretended that they hadn't seen how violent the incident was before, but it's more likely that they're 'dancing a little sidestep' because of public opinion.

So because of the NFL's new found outrage over how this woman was treated, her life will be ruined instead of fixed. I will never understand football.

The Kickoff of Football Season

It's official football season. When you live with a fan, there are a few life adjustments you learn to make as the season starts. Follow this advice for the win:

1. Root for the teams your partner likes. Even if you don't watch, the game will be in your face as you move from room to room doing house stuff. You may as well enjoy the victory too, or commiserate in the loss. Household harmony is a good thing.
   
   You might have a team you like, but your partner hates. You might have to negotiate a truce or make 'win-win' bets on the outcome if your favorite teams play each other.


2. Don't commit football faux paus. You know the obvious ones. Don't walk between the TV watcher and the TV. Don't start serious conversations when the game is on. How would you like it if they did that during your favorite show? (Even if your show is weekly and football is constantly?)
   
   Be proactive. Grab a schedule and use it. Plan errands/outings during non-game times. Stock up on game-friendly food before game day; the self-serve kind, so you don't have to do anything.


3. Take advantage of game time to do whatever you like without 'pulling aggro.' If their fan-butt is glued to their TV-watchin' chair, it's amazing how much you can get done. In these days of telecommuting and/or both partners employed, a few hours to yourself can be very useful.
   
   Yearning for a long soak? Learning to play an instrument that you haven't mastered? Want to paint or draw without somebody looking over your shoulder? Wanna go buy shoes? Do it. They won't notice.


4. Go out to the local sports bars. A decent sports bar has something on the menu for pretty much everybody. TV screens are viewable from anywhere. Your partner can hear the experts analyze all the games. You can enjoy a meal without cooking and doing dishes. Sometimes I take a book.
   
   Just don't go on a game day! It's a zoo. They are too packed to give good service. You have to keep ordering things, or they'll want your table for someone else. Then you have to drive home during the 4th quarter and could easily miss the end of the game (especially if some pesky policeman arrests you for DUI).

So follow the game plan and enjoy the season. Maybe you'll get a trip to Disneyland when it's over.

My Leaky Bucket List

(If any youngsters accidentally stumble upon this blog, a 'bucket list' is a list of things you plan to do before you 'kick the bucket.' I'm not sure if the term is still used.)

It dawns on me that I'm never going to travel to the places on my 'bucket list.' As the years add up, some things that used to sound awesome... don't now. For example:

• Back in the day I yearned to live on a sailboat and continually explore new places.
• Then there was the dream of backpacking through Europe, staying at youth hostels, and going everyplace a Eurail pass could take me. There was some myth going around that one could spend a day or two picking grapes to make enough money to journey on to the next place. Probably untrue.
• Another wish was for a suntan/sunscreen concession at a Polynesian resort on a white-sand beach. From there I could live happily ever after in my little grass shack, saving tourists' skins and impressing the world with my killer tan. (Appropriate adjective, eh?)

Such dreams are for the young and strong, who still look good in swimwear and don't mind lack of laundry facilities, or picking fleas out of their hair, or all the other stuff that goes with 'traveling light' and living hand-to-mouth.

These days I'll have to sing, "Let it Go" to a few other travel dreams. There are too many obstacles ranging from personal all the way to financial and political:

• The pyramids will have to do without me. The situation in Egypt is no joke, and when people say, "Don't go there," it sounds like really good advice.
• I have 4 needy cats, no spare money, and a hubby who does not travel well. Clearly I won't get to live in Paris for a year. I won't be taking my sketchbook and my notebook to the Louvre for creative inspiration. No breaking for lunch at streetside crepe stands.
• A photo safari in Africa seems inadvisable because of unrest and ebola. The air in China sounds unsafe for someone with asthma and 'secondhand-smoke' lung issues, so getting to the Great Wall might not be so great. Visiting the Great Barrier Reef would only generate frustration because polluters are killing it.

As someone older and wiser, I see that travel needs to give way on my bucket list to more possible list items. Then it dawns on me. I never made a bucket list! I've had things in the back of my mind that I'd like to do, but it's never been formalized.

I feel so much better. Without some dratted list to fret about, I can concentrate on what's possible.  Publishing a book? Learning Spanish? Learning to play an instrument? There are endless possibilities. My bucket runneth over.

The Legendary Sirwent Luck

Back in high school days, we had one of those super-families among us, the Sirwents. There was a Sirwent kid in my grade and one in most of the surrounding grades. They were astounding. They all made the honor roll without fail. Every one of them was the star athlete of their grade. They were nice-looking too.

Mr. Sirwent was quietly nice, and well-spoken. Mrs. Sirwent was clearly from another planet. I wish I could go there to drink the water! She was stunning. Tall, tan, slender, beautiful, and young-looking. After 8 kids. None of the kids was as good-looking as her, but then they were half-Earthlings so the alien super-DNA was diluted. 

I went through school envying the Sirwent kids' luck, even as I admired their success. Naturally I had a crush on Kyle Sirwent. Good looks, star quarterback, top basketball scorer, contender for valedictorian, and totally unattainable. Who could resist that? But he didn't date. Better girls than I tried for him and failed.

Everybody talked about them. Apparently one of the Sirwent infants had a disease, and didn't have the strength to survive it for very long. Perhaps that's why the parents focused on health and sports. They formed neighborhood teams for the then-grade-schoolers. There were no events to compete in so they made their own, and made them fun.

By the time those kids hit junior high, they had the competitive sports down cold. While the rest of us were learning sports for the first time, the Sirwents learned how to fit homework into their practice schedules. When we were all talking on the phone for hours, they weren't.

None of the Sirwents dated much. They were too busy. I heard from his teammates that Kyle went home from basketball practice, ate, and practiced free throws until homework time. There was plenty of time for dating in college, after he earned all his scholarships. (Spoiler alert: he's still successful... tenured college professor, 2 handsome sons, happy marriage.)

Looking back through the eyes of somebody older and wiser, I wonder why I envied the Sirwent luck. It wasn't luck, and alien DNA had nothing to do with it. They worked their butts off and focused on what was important. They got perfect grades because they did their homework. They excelled in sports because they practiced all the time.

So it's not likely that Mrs. Sirwent will show up in a space ship and ask if I want to join her for a drink on Planet A+. Though if she did, I'd go.

Speak to Me

A fellow World of Warcraft player has one of those sexy Latin voices, complete with adorable accent. It's guaranteed to impress anyone with ears. I've heard that, over the years, his voice has caught the attention of several impressionable ladies. His friends are amused by the occasional excitement his voice causes.

It seems that some husbands and boyfriends who play WoW don't like it if their 'lady of choice' call another guy's voice 'sexy.' They like it even less if the lady develops a 'crush.'  "Antonio" has actually been booted from groups and thrown out of guilds. Sometimes he flees because ladies get 'too friendly.'

I can relate... somewhat. Back when female WoW players were less common, we all got 'hit on' by lovesick teens and lonely desperados just because we had a female voice. I can't imagine how much worse it would have been if we'd sounded sexy or sultry. 

None of this helps our friend, Antonio, who really just wants to work his way into a good raiding group without the extra drama. He might have to pretend his microphone is 'broken' so he can raise his gear level without raising the hopes of his admirers.

There is something magical about a great voice. Mom still melts when she listens to her Elvis collection. My friend, Judy, would buy anything that featured Ron Perlman's voice. My personal taste is for a British accent, so I can enjoy Antonio's contributions to the group's chat without breaking into a drool.

I guess that means I'm safe from a silly in-game 'crush'... unless Partick Stewart starts playing World of Warcraft.

Everything but the Kitchen Sink

Our kitchen is so packed with stuff that we have to stack things on the floor. Every cupboard, the entire pantry, and all but one square foot of counter space are overstuffed with dishes, appliances, cookware, utensils, paper and tea-towels, cleaning supplies... even some actual food. It's insane. You should see us maneuvering:

Hubby - "I need a square foot of space for the Foreman grill later tonight."
Me ----- "OK. I'll move this crock pot to the floor as soon as it cools."
Hubby - "Don't you usually keep that on the stove?"
Me ----- "We needed that space for the tomatoes we just picked."
Hubby - "That reminds me. There are 3 dozen more to pick."
Me ----- "Oh noes! I need to learn how to can them or something."
Hubby - "Great idea. Um, where will we put the canning equipment and jars?"

The problem got worse yesterday. Our built-in microwave has a door problem. It's part of the same unit as our regular oven, which is 2 years new and working fine. The best solution is to order a countertop microwave. There goes our last foot of counter space!

Needless to say, I'm shopping for a storage solution. We have space along one wall under the kitchen window for a long storage bench, or anything else that holds stuff and is exactly the right size. I'd even settle for cardboard boxes (but they must match... I have my standards!)

As this 'critical mass' dilemma swirled through my thoughts, I logged on to World of Warcraft to catch up with my friends. There I found my buddy, Sharon. Sharon is moving to another state soon, and is getting things ready.

She told me she plans to fit everything into a standard-sized truck. One truck! We'd need a convoy just to clear out the kitchen. My envy surged. I hadn't been that jealous since Marsha Hintindyn asked my high school crush to the dance before I could!

Jealousy quickly gave way to admiration. Good for Sharon! It's tough to keep the clutter from taking over. Hard choices must be made when deciding what to keep, what to toss. I've been dodging those choices for too long. It's time for that to change.

But not right now. We're out of food, so we're off to buy more groceries. Sigh.

Millstone or Milestone? Blog #50

Happy Blog #50! Many thanks to my two loyal readers, Mom and beloved M-I-L (and several other occasional readers) for their kind feedback and support.

How has it gone so far? Eh. So-so. My blogs describe my determination to 'catch up and keep up' but there's a paradox. I'm further behind than ever because I spend too much time blogging. Some days nothing else gets done, as I struggle to get something, anything posted. That's a huge negative.

Hubby - "There are no clean glasses."
Me ----- "Sorry. Today's blog was tough. I never got to the dishes."
Hubby - "Just like yesterday and the day before?"
Me ----- "At least I'm getting something done."
Hubby - "I see no paycheck. I'll be upstairs. Thirsty."

Which brings up another negative... no money. Op-ed spots on popular online sites are harder to score than a winning lottery ticket, only the payout is much worse. If you're famous, attractive, connected, controversial, and passionate about whatever niche you occupy, you might be one of the lucky ones to get about $10 per blog.

Mind you, $10 is better than nothing (although I spent more than that on the coffee it took to write this much). The only other way to make money is to sell advertising. No thanks! Inflicting spam on one's loyal readers seems like a poor way to thank them.

But enough about the negatives. There are positives too. I'm applying myself. I'm doing something that might get me where I want to be. The plan was to post 100 blogs, as proof that I could write something almost every day. That's my plan, and I'm sticking with it.

The real challenge is to decide what direction to take after Blog #100. Hope you'll stay with me as I decide. Thanks again for your support. That includes Hubby, by the way. He may be doubtful about where this is going, but he's still paying for the coffee.

Happy Labor Day; Now Get to Work

Probably you've noticed; the less you get paid, the more likely you'll have to work on Labor Day. "Wait!" you might say. "Isn't Labor Day supposed to be the day to honor the little guys at the bottom of the rung? It's crazy that they work on their own special holiday."

Indeed. Many things are crazy about Labor Day. For one, it should be celebrated on May 1, International Workers Day. However, that pesky Pullman incident took place in early May.

For background, George Pullman built railroad cars. He hired non-union workers and built a 'model community,' where the workers rented housing from him. When the railroad's demand for Pullman cars dropped, Pullman cut workers' pay, but not the rent. Riots and strikes resulted, affecting much of the country. 30 strikers were killed.

Immediately after the Pullman strike, Congress unanimously voted for a holiday to honor labor, naming early September... a nice, long time away from early May. No surprise there, except maybe that 100% of Congress could agree on anything. That's something we don't see much of these days.

Regardless of why, Labor Day is ideally positioned to be the official end of summer. Very convenient. It's a clear signal to stop wearing white and seersucker (ask your grandma). It's the last chance for families with schoolkids to have a getaway together. It gives us oldsters a 'start date' to schedule vacations when there aren't pesky kids everywhere.

But mainly, Labor Day is at exactly the right time for the back-to-school retailers to unload everything so they can make room for the 'Halloween Thanksgiving Christmas' trifecta. Yep, every holiday is exploited as a retail opportunity, and this one is no exception.

It's actually doubly ironic. Retail is the first, last, and only chance for a paycheck for millions of workers. A holiday to stimulate sales is a good thing for people who want to stay employed. So what if they don't get their own holiday off? They're used to it, and holidays are only arbitrary anyhow.

There are a lot of outrageous things going on, so one must choose one's battles. The integrity of Labor Day wouldn't even make my long list. Some workers still get the day off, there are some decent celebrations going on, and we all take at least a moment to think positive thoughts of America's labor force.

So Happy Labor Day to all! Now quit reading and get to work. You wouldn't want to be late.