nora something

She's gone

2011-09-03T12:53:00.000-07:00

I am broken. But these words -- from Job, of all places -- are the duct tape binding me together.

But ask the beasts, and they will teach you;the birds of the heavens, and they will tell you; or the bushes of the earth, and they will teach you;and the fish of the sea will declare to you.Who among these does not knowthat the hand of the Lord has done this?In his hand is the life of every living thingand the breath of all mankind.-- Job 12:7-10

Operation Vernal Equinox

2011-04-02T04:05:00.000-07:00

I've posted several times about my Neighbor Situation -- on the one side, a young family with a sweet little boy who seems unable to communicate without shouting, and on the other, a debauched recently-divorced middle aged man who blasts Nickelback through outdoor speakers as soon as the weather warms up pretty much all weekend long, even when he's not home.

In all seriousness, I am glad these people are having a good time. Happy people make noise and hearing other people living their lives, to some degree, is part of living in a community. But between the shrieking and exceptionally bad music, I have spent the last few summers indoors. And even with the windows shut and A/C blasting, I can still hear these folks.

But recently I scored what I think is some pretty cool mid-century modern patio furniture. Pale pale yellow metal in groovy rounded shapes. I just love it and so want to enjoy it. But preferably without having to wear ear plugs the whole time or waiting for some quiet at 3AM.

My first instinct was to go all Gitmo on them, engaging in my own form of musical torture at an equivalent volume. Show tunes, I was thinking. Bad Christian rock (goodness knows there's enough of it out there). Or maybe Chinese opera. But the passive-aggressive (and childish) nature of this form of protest is wrong. And not neighborly.

It's very likely that the process of reclaiming my back yard, even with gentle assertions of my own rights to space and time outside, will lead to interactions with the neighbors about how to rightfully do what you want on your own property but doing so in a way that doesn't prevent your neighbors from doing the same. Interactions I've been basically avoiding for fear of not knowing what to say in a winsome or godly way or just flat out wanting to avoid conflict.

At this point, I think my strategy will be to have a pitcher of lemonade with me whenever I am outside puttering or just hanging out back there, ready and waiting for those who might want to cross a property line to chat. About the rigors of parenting a kindergartner. Or keeping chemicals in a pool in balance. Or whatever. Hopefully if I try my best to be hospitable in my conduct and hold a sincere desire to get us out of this suburban Cold War in my heart, it will at least be a step in the right direction.

Play ball

2011-03-31T19:10:00.000-07:00

"The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America is ruled by it like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good, and that could be again. Oh, people will come, Ray. People will most definitely come." -- Terence Mann, Field of Dreams

Day in the life of a legislative staffer

2011-03-08T07:06:00.000-08:00

Scene: Fifth floor hallway of the Capitol. I was meeting with a group of constituents too large to fit in our office.

Constituent A: blah blah safety net blah blah redevelopment money blah

Nora: *nodding, taking notes, making sympathetic noises*

Constituent B: We know things are moving quickly with the vote coming up Thursday, and..."

Nora: I understand. And?

Constituent B: Do your shoes have whiskers on them?

Nora: Uh...

Constituent B: And are those ears?

Nora: Ah, well, yes, they are.

*Entire group is now staring at my feet.*

Constituent A: They're mice!

Nora: They are. They are mice. They were on sale. And seemed whimsical at the time.

Constituent C: They are whimsical.

Constituent D: I think I see their noses.

Today

2011-01-28T17:08:00.000-08:00

Photo via Twitter

This scene from Egypt today brought to mind images from the United States' own not-so-recent past.

Photo from AP

Praying with and for the people of Egypt.

Important work

2010-12-27T17:52:00.000-08:00

The list of things I was supposed to get at least started on tonight is pretty long.

Once my latest headache broke, I'd promised myself, I would Get Busy. The piles of unwashed laundry alone are borderline hoarder-y, never mind gross, and then there's the necessary wrangling of pet-fur dust bunnies, some of whose size rival that of the cat. I need to sort papers to do my taxes. Organize a drawer or two or 10. Find about six pairs of earrings that have gone missing. And so on -- you get the idea. The chaos is reaching epic proportions, and if it bothers me when my head hurts, it's definitely time to take matters in hand.

But, it turns out, when you have a nearly-16-year-old dog, your time is not your own. As I earnestly outlined my semi-ambitious To Do list, I caught Daisy out of the corner of my eye. Sitting next to me on the couch and just watching me. And, I think, waiting. For me and my attention, which had also been a bit absent prior to the headache breaking.

Putting aside pen and paper, I sat back on the couch and she climbed right into my lap, curled up into a ball, sighed maybe the most contented sigh I've ever heard, and was sound asleep inside 60 seconds.

This, it turns out, is all I need to do tonight.

Having a spell

2010-12-13T18:07:00.000-08:00

I may have technically been born in New York City and lived my adult life in California, but I am a Southerner through and through. Raised by a mother from Georgia in suburban Houston, it's only been in adulthood that my accent has flattened out to where it's not immediately apparent where I'm from until I'm tired (or had a glass or two of wine...). The "y'all"s have stayed, though -- what can I say? it's a great plural. And I say other words strangely. The word "lever" is apparently not pronounced LEE-ver; the thing you use to keep the rain off you is not an UM-brella, but an um-BRELL-a; and so on.

It turns out, when I'm under duress, the colloquialisms also come back. Daisy had a pretty bad seizure very early this morning; she's been having small ones off and on, and given her advanced age -- and given the fact that she is basically a little Southern old lady herself, a case or two of the vapors every now and then is not unexpected. But this morning's was especially bad, and scared me. Scared me enough, as it turned out, to bring the Southern dialect back in full force.

I called the vet's answering service in a panic and was connected with a very kind and patient person who tried to get salient information from me about what was wrong with Daisy before she called the on-call vet for me. And I was telling her, over and over, what was wrong. She kept saying, "Beg your pardon?" "I don't understand," and "Can you say that again, please, ma'am?" And I thought (but thankfully did not say), "Are you learning impaired, lady? I mean, how plain do I need to be here?"

It was only when I stopped to draw breath that she said "I'm sorry, but what do you mean she's had a 'spell,' exactly?"

After much of the day at the vet, Daisy is home (she'll be heading back to spend the day there under observation while I go to work tomorrow), medicated on anti seizure medicine to the point that she is snoring with her tongue stuck out, and Boo is hovering protectively.

Could it be this simple?

2010-09-30T17:58:00.000-07:00

One of the message boards I frequent has a lot of other migraine sufferers who post there -- it's not a migraine board per se, but lots of us get them so it's a topic that comes up pretty frequently. I was browsing topics there today when I saw a post that caught my attention. It said, "Migraine sufferers, could your light bulbs be to blame?" And it contained a link to this brief article from 2008:

Sure, we know you want to do your part for the planet and all that jazz, but what if conserving energy is killing you? Okay, well, it might not be killing you, but according to a new report out of the UK, it's possible that those new-fangled fluorescent bulbs everyone is telling you to buy these days may be aggravating your migraines, making you nauseous, or causing you physical pain (if you've got lupus). The Daily Mail says that because the bulbs work in the same fashion as typical fluorescent bulbs (which can be irritating to some), the subtle flickering inherent to the technology can cause problems. Britain's Migraine Action Association director Paul Jansen said, "For some people a migraine attack can be triggered by fluorescent lights, video screens, stroboscopic effects and flashing lights." And added that, "We hope that the Government will allow regular light bulbs still to be available to those who need them." On the flip side, compact fluorescent supporters say only older technology or low-energy bulbs have flickering issues, and that new models being produced are clear of problems. Surely that may be the case -- but we need something to blame this stabbing eye pain on.

It would sure make sense -- my headaches have dramatically increased in the last couple of years, during which I have also switched the vast majority of light bulbs at home over to compact fluorescents (to save both money and energy). The majority of my headaches used to start mid-day (when I was coincidentally at work under fluorescent lights), whereas now I get them any time of the day or night. My exposure to fluorescents was also previously limited to my work hours, and now it's basically any time I am awake.

I need to do a lot more research, and even from a cursory Google search it seems the jury's out on the nexus between whatever flickering there might be in compact fluorescent bulbs and migraine headaches, but it sure makes me wonder.

Various

2010-08-31T17:56:00.000-07:00

Yep. I haven't written in a while. Head, work, blah blah. The reasons why are not interesting even to me.
The Legislature is in the death throes of its last two days of the regular legislative session (known as sine die, even though the technical time for that is the last day of November) -- and I am home. On the couch. Got hit pretty hard with stomach flu on Saturday and have been down ever since. All year the Legislature basically gears up for these final days, and while they are strange and challenging, they are also part and parcel of why most of us work there -- in spite of the weird hours and sleep deprivation and grueling sessions, it's what we do. And not to be there for these last two days has been ... interesting.
And in the last few days, a couple of my sisters in Christ have really preached to me through their examples. One became a first-time mom yesterday to a beautiful little girl -- after a pregnancy wrought with crippling morning sickness and all sorts of issues that arose from that. She too once worked in the Capitol and in the course of three years, she's now married, home full time and as of yesterday -- a mommy. It sort of blows my mind.
Another sister wrote on her blog about her full hands -- the blessing of being home with her children -- in a way that brought tears to my eyes. She acknowledged the work, the sacrifice of some things she loved from her single days, but was so clear about the blessings God's provided through His provision of a husband, children and a home to keep for them. Our lives, on the outside, could not be more different -- but her clarity and grace blessed me so much.
God's used both these women (and my case of the flu) to help me see that my value is not in "the building." It's the work I do, and having integrity where it's concerned is right and good, but I can serve Him where ever He puts me. The Capitol's environment can be a bit like a vacuum -- it's hard to imagine doing other work, or how your skills would even translate to the private sector, or what else you'd even be good at. Five years ago, it would have been unthinkable for me to be home these two days. I would have been beside myself. This year? I'm on the couch, eating Popsicles and sipping Gatorade and waiting for my sea legs to come back.
I have no idea if these ramblings even make sense.
In other news, Daisy's carb fixation has shifted from potato-based treats to the broader starch category. I've been making and eating lots of rice over the last couple of days, one of the few foods I have been able to keep down, and Daisy's prancing and begging has been nonstop. Her new favorite thing is teaspoon-sized balls of cold rice.

On pins and needles

2010-07-23T07:52:00.000-07:00

I've tried so many things to alleviate my migraines -- lots of drugs and drug combinations, standard chiropractic and cervical chiropractic adjustments, adjusting my diet -- and so far, nothing has worked in a durable way. I've wanted to try acupuncture for a while, but I didn't know anyone personally who'd tried it and/or could give me a referral to a non-quack.

A couple of weeks ago, lunch with a friend led to a friend of hers recommending an acupuncturist; this woman, too, had had several migraines a week and after being treated with acupuncture weekly for a couple of months, no longer had any. She's now gone a year and a half without a migraine and gets acupuncture monthly as a preventative treatment. I could barely believe my ears ("I can even drink WINE now!" she said), so one thing led to another, and I had my first acupuncture treatment Monday.

I have to say, meeting with the acupuncturist was really different from my standard office visit with an MD. The acupuncturist took a really thorough medical history, including looking at my tongue and drawing a picture of it for my treatment chart. She spent a long time sort of pressing on my abdomen and lower rib cage. As she pressed I kept thinking "But it's my head that hurts. What is she doing?" And then -- ow! A tender spot right under my ribcage on the left. Weird. But she said "Aha!" She want to the same location on the right side, and there too was a sensitive spot. Apparently, soreness in these areas correlates to "congestion" in the liver and gall bladder. That congestion in turn correlates to headaches and migraines.

Talking through my symptoms and triggers took a long time, and then -- out came the needles. She placed several on both sides of my abdomen where the sore spots were, a couple on each of my feet, and then a couple more in the backs of my hands and forearms. My job during all this? To lie on the table and relax. It was not in the least bit painful, but the sensation coming from a few sites where the needles were placed was interesting -- sort of a tingle or radiating feeling. After about 20 minutes, she pulled out the needles. Done.

I'm going to go weekly for a while. I really hope it will provide some relief.

Eliana tells the tale

2010-07-17T15:31:00.000-07:00

I can hardly stand how cute Christina and David's kids are anyway, but Eliana's retelling of last night's adventures is almost more than I can take, cuteness wise.

Party like it's 1998

2010-07-17T14:03:00.000-07:00

Someone seems to be a bit tuckered out today.

Someone has I think realized she's a lot closer to 105 in human years than 21, so she's paying a but of a price for last night's bacchanal. And she seems a little embarrassed about the whole thing, too, if that's possible.

Her feet are better today and based on the snoring and drooling, she's resting comfortably.

Daisy's brief but glorious life of crime

2010-07-16T23:11:00.000-07:00

Daisy is, as I am sure most of you know, your basic small, pampered, inside dog. While remarkably spry, she is still 15 years old, so most of her adventures these days involve chasing the cat, begging for potato-based treats and sneaking upstairs to my room when I'm not looking, wriggling under the covers of my bed, and sleeping.

I have a small back yard with a largely decorative, three-foot-tall wrought iron fence around its grassy area. The whole time we've lived here, which would be nine-plus years, Daisy has never once tested the fence's integrity. The visual boundary was sufficient -- this area was her yard and she had free reign within it. But she never went outside the little fence without her leash -- never even tried to.

The guy who cuts my grass came today, and sometimes he doesn't close the little iron gate into the back yard when he finishes. Often I come home on Friday afternoons and it's half open, so I know to check it on Fridays in particular when I let Daisy outside when I get home. Today was no different -- the first time I let Daisy out after he left this afternoon, I visually checked the gate. It was closed; out she went.

Except it wasn't closed, because after a while, I realized I'd lost track of time and went to let Daisy in -- and she was gone, the iron gate swung fully open.

The next few hours were not great. Crying. Hyperventilating. Combing the neighborhood. Berating myself for not putting my cell number on her tags. Designing and printing and hanging fliers. Calling Shu! and freaking out. Walking and driving around, calling for her, listening for her, watching the sky getting darker and darker while realizing she is 15 stinking years old and a slightly feeble inside dog, not some sort of young outdoorsy creature, and the best case scenario was that she was scared and lost somewhere.

Shu found someone on Craigslist who'd seen her at like 6:30 near the park by my house, and he talked me in to the area via Google Maps, and then as I was walking in that area, a couple said they'd seen a small dog running but didn't know what color is was. Adding to the fun -- I have no answering machine at home since I switched to cell for my main phone service. So I kept coming home every little bit and dialing *69 (like a creepy teenager) to see if anyone had tried to call while I was out looking since they couldn't leave messages. Finally at almost 10:00, pay dirt -- *69 gave me a number to a guy, Nathan, who had Daisy at his house! Which was almost a mile away in the opposite direction to where the Craigslist lady had made her sighting. Daisy Mae Clampitt had covered some ground.

With Shu! on the speaker phone I drove over -- to find Daisy drinking bottled water out of a cute little bowl surrounded by gang bangers (complete with scary tattoos and shaved heads) sitting in lawn chairs in a circle around her on the driveway. I ran to her -- she was completely unhurt, a miracle in itself -- and she looked at me puzzled, like she had no idea who this sweaty crying lady was. The guys were very sweet about the whole thing, and she hung over my shoulder, looking back at Nathan longingly as I carried her to the car for the drive home. Halfway through which she seemed to remember "Oh, right, the lady who feeds me," and climbed into my lap.

So, to sum up, Daisy is out on her own a matter of hours and manages both to join a gang and find herself a boyfriend. She is a little tender footed from her adventure (it was 103 or something crazy today, so I'm sure the the texture and warmth of the pavement have made her feet sore) but otherwise just fine. I, on the other hand, may need a little more recovery time.

Thanks to everyone for their prayers and concern. And to Shu!, for his cool-headedness and rapid operational strategy. It takes a village.

The latest from Wisteria Lane

2010-07-08T12:36:00.000-07:00

I have been home the last couple of days, weaning myself off the most recent failed anti-migraine drug. Going on the meds is always hard, but going off is definitely worse. I'm not going to lie -- it's been pretty rough. And if any of you hear me say ever again, "The doctor wants me to try a new preventative drug and I think I'm going to give it a shot!" you have my advance permission to smack sense into me or take away my prescription card or to otherwise take whatever steps are needed to intervene and make me not do it. Really.

But since the Legislature is, if not in formal recess, in sort of an informal stupor, I haven't missed much. And it turns out there are all sorts of fascinating goings on here in the neighborhood which I don't get to enjoy while gainfully employed.

For instance, the neighbor whose daughter stole my door mat and blocks me into my driveway with her car? Has apparently reunited with her husband. I know this because over the 4th of July weekend there was a giant WHOMP! sort of noise early one morning and, lo and behold, a semi dropped off one of those enormous rectangular container thingies people load their stuff in when they move. Except this one was refrigerated. (Why? Is there a moose or something in there?) Anyway, he and the rectangular thingy were both here through the long weekend. And now the container is gone but he's still here, with the Nickelback blasting. So, yay. A reunion.

The little boy next door who constantly screams continues to do so. His grandparents have been visiting so there's been lots of wiffle-ball-like behaviors followed by uproarious applause, and he's been screaming at them that he loves them, too, just like he screams at his mommy, so that's a really nice thing. At one point his grandmother said something like, "We are so proud of you!" and he screamed back, "I KNOW!" Ha.

Daisy's love of potato-based treats continues apace. I've made tater tots a couple of times over the last few days (potatoes + salt are something that's agreeing with my rebelling digestion), and both times I've caught her while they were baking licking at the opening where the oven door's hinge is and scratching at it. By the time they're out, she just paces and whines and snuffles 'til I share with her.

And I watched "Cloverfield." If you haven't seen it, please don't.

Finding something you didn't know was lost

2010-07-03T11:33:00.000-07:00

My mom and I had a, shall we say, challenging relationship. We were very different kinds of people in the first place, which didn't help matters, and while we had some degree of love for each other, I don't think either of us liked the other a great deal. Then there was the brutal childhood and string of stepfathers. I wound up leaving home at 18, finding my way to Alaska through a series of misadventures (pretty much as far away from her as I could be from her and not need a work visa) and winding up in California, where I married and basically built my life as much without her as I could.

But I was an only child. So try as I might to stretch the bonds between us to near the breaking point, and I went years at one point without speaking to her, we eventually settled into a somewhat brittle relationship just as I was finishing college. Recently separated, I was more open to some sort of family, even if it wasn't exactly ideal. And she had made some changes in her life that made this a safer thing to try out.

Just about two years later she was diagnosed with advanced ovarian cancer, which she fought tooth and nail. I went home every 28 days to be with her for the weekend following every chemo treatment, and those years are a literal blur. Somehow having a pretty demanding job at the Capitol here, shuttling back and forth, managing doctors and caregivers and, eventually, hospice from afar. She died in 2001; I packed up her house (with lots of help), moved most of it to California and basically carried on.

I kept a lot of her books; I love books myself, maybe more than she did even, and though the majority of them weren't things I'd choose to read personally, it seemed like a way of keeping a piece of her close. They have been stacked in a spare bedroom in my house, mixed up with books of my own, waiting for me to find the gumption to organize them properly.

Cut to this week, when I found myself ferreting around up there for a particular book. When instead I found this.

A very old Bible. Weird that I hadn't noticed it before, but I figured it was my grandmother's, since she'd attended church. I looked inside.

It had my mother's maiden name in it. Weirder still. Then, the clincher...

It had been given to her by her father. Who died when she I was think 7 or 8.

As someone who felt so separate and apart from her mother even in the closest of moments, this remembrance of her as a little girl, as some one's daughter, bowled me over. A snapshot of her from a time when she was small enough to call her father Daddy and before all badness and craziness and disease. And now that I am a Christian, that we share some connection -- however fleeting, however small -- to the same text.

I keep turning the book over in my hands, wanting to sort of get familiar with it. Its pages are yellowed and its binding weakened, so I have to be really careful, but I've officially moved it out of the piles of books to be sorted some day and down to the family room, where I can see it every day.

Maybe it's time for a webcam

2010-07-01T18:04:00.000-07:00

I take Ambien to help me sleep.

I've had bouts of insomnia since I was little, and about six weeks or so ago, when I hadn't slept for a couple of days and I mentioned it in passing to my doctor during a migraine appointment, she prescribed Ambien. The sleeplessness might or might be a symptom or causal agent for my headaches, we agreed, but whatever the case, I should be getting some sleep. Every day.

And the sleep has been amazing. Sound sleep undisturbed by my neighbors' garage band and domestic squabbles and pool parties. I actually look forward to going to bed now and wake up feeling much more rested. But I have (apparently) been experiencing at least one of Ambien's most famous side effects -- sleep walking.

It started out with small hints of something being awry. For example, one morning I came downstairs to find the doors of my TV armoire closed. I rarely close them, since the TV runs so warm and I want air to circulate freely. I didn't remember closing it before I went to bed, but whatever.

Then there was the Peanut Butter Incident. I haven't eaten peanut butter since I made the connection between nuts and headaches, and I thought I'd thrown own my last jar. Imagine my surprise when I found an open jar on my kitchen counter one morning -- its lid off and a spoon sitting next to it. All lined up, the spoon licked clean. Apparently my unconscious mind remembered I still had peanut butter in the pantry and wanted a snack. Thankfully there weren't finger marks in the jar.

But finally this week, when I woke up on the couch in the family room with no idea how I'd gotten there -- no memory of getting a blanket out of the linen closet, going down the stairs and curling up with the pets on the couch in the middle of the night -- I had to laugh. I guess I should be worried about what all else I do in the night, that I'll sleepwalk to the garage and paw through the garbage cans like a raccoon or buy a car online or something. But truthfully, the nighttime antics have mostly amused me. The idea that there's a Sleeping Nora who has a pretty interesting life going on, with the wandering around and eating snacks and potentially watching cable.

For the time being at least, I'm going to make sure all my blinds are closed before I head to bed and keep looking for clues in the morning.

Edited to add: Eric reminded me that I also rearranged the kitchen in my sleep! I'd completely forgotten. I woke up one morning to find Sleeping Nora had moved an entire shelf of cookbooks, an espresso machine and coffee maker to different places in the kitchen. I like the arrangement just fine, as it turns out, but that was pretty weird, too.

On Memorial Day

2010-05-31T10:01:00.000-07:00

These days I'm reading No Ordinary Time, an amazing book by the way, and as I've read about the days leading up to World War II, President Franklin Roosevelt's faith in the American people has been striking -- faith in their ability to meet challenges, to overcome want and to strive despite overwhelming circumstances to make the world safer, fairer and more open.

But he knew that none of that came without a price. That however much isolation from Europe's tyrants we were afforded by ocean borders, as long as we stood for something that flew in the face of subjugation and cruelty, eventually we would have to join the fight.

FDR had no illusions about war's horrors, price and reality. And to whom it would fall to bear their brunt. With the Great War still sharp in Americans' memories and Nazis sweeping through Europe, he committed the country's military materiel (such as it was at the time, given protectionist world views), factory production, and eventually its young men (my father among them) to the second world war in a generation.

I have seen war... . I have seen war on land and sea. I have seen blood running from the wounded... . I have seen the dead in the mud. I have seen cities destroyed... . I have seen children starving. I have seen the agony of mothers and wives. I hate war.

Acoustic Killers

2010-05-30T07:33:00.000-07:00

Lifted from say la vee. An acoustic version of The Killers' "All These Things That I Have Done." What a sweet voice Brandon Flowers has.

Eat mor chikin 4 free

2010-05-22T06:23:00.000-07:00

Chick-fil-A will be offering free spicy chicken sandwiches from May 31-June 5.

I am compelled by this. Chick-fil-A chicken is pretty much perfect as it is now, but I love spicy things. I really, really, really hope it's not gross.

You have to make a "reservation," but who cares? Free is free, y'all. And my birthday's that week, so yay.

Go here:

http://www.getspicychicken.com/

And in other Chick-fil-A news, the last time I ate there I had the nuggets and highly recommend them. Really nice breading-to-chicken ratio thanks to the overall greater surface area.

There are no words

2010-05-19T19:28:00.000-07:00

An engineer's guide to cats.

I... yeah. You just have to watch, really.

Changing my tune on the iPad

2010-05-18T16:52:00.000-07:00

I'm a self confessed Apple junkie. I just love how well their products work as well as their design -- so much so, that when my MacBook recently made a pretty serious suicide attempt, I nearly immediately replaced it with an iMac. The laptop has since mysteriously came back to life, more or less, so I still use it occasionally -- when I want to cuddle with Daisy on the couch, for example -- but most of my hardcore work and surfing is now done on the desktop, and I love it, too.

The night last month when I bought my iMac, the Apple Store was just a-swarm with people fiddling with the store's iPads. And, really, I just didn't get the furor at all. Its screen was too small, I thought, to be of real work use. And even if it were bigger, it's hard to produce multi-page documents if you're typing on a faux (touch screen) keyboard. I already have and love a Kindle, so its book reading ability didn't suck me in. And its ability to watch videos wasn't a selling point for me. Basically, I need a portable computer to be a portable computer, not an overly ambitious iPod touch. This was the first Apple product* that I wasn't drawn to at once.

But then, I read this today from Gizmodo. And as quickly as that, my mind has been changed:

I went nearly 24 hours without charging my iPad, watching four hours of video, reading books for a couple of hours, getting in a few rounds of Strategery, and still had a bit less than half of my battery life left when I hit the ground three planes later. That longevity changes the experience profoundly, more than making up for the iPad's deficiencies for me. Except for editing video, there's not a single thing in my workflow that I can't do on the iPad, and I haven't even begun to experiment using VNC or other screen sharing tools to connect back to my iMac to access its "real" computing power.
...
But I returned from this trip convinced that this form factor has legs. (And everything I came to appreciate about the iPad's merit as a travel computer should apply to Android and WebOS tablets, if and when those actually make it to market with a consumer-friendly level of UX refinement.) Since I have a power-guzzling traditional computer on my desktop to do all the heavy lifting when I'm home, I don't see a place for my laptop in my life right now. I had an inkling that might have been the case when I bought my iPad, but I had to take a leap of faith to be sure.

If the iPad can easily produce documents with the simple addition of a Bluetooth keyboard, weigh next to nothing and have a really long battery life, then it meets all the needs I could want out of my MacBook. Whenever my MacBook finally does die for real, I know what my next Apple purchase will be.

* Leaving aside iPhones because I have/had cell phone provider/Outlook compatibility issues that drove my decisions in this arena.

A vending machine made of win

2010-05-11T20:02:00.000-07:00

Yep, that's bacon in there.

And various other forms of meat. But really, the bacon is the point.

Happy Mother's Day

2010-05-09T06:30:00.000-07:00

An old favorite. I like this ska-ified rendition.

Memoranda

2010-05-08T17:05:00.000-07:00

To: Fellow neighbors on Wisteria Lane
From: Mild-Mannered Lady Who Does Her Best to Keep to Herself
Re: I have apparently found my breaking point

So, I don't say anything when your pot and/or cigarette smoke drifts over the fence and through my open windows. Or when you decide that the thing to do at 12:30 AM is to throw yourself, cannonball-style, into your pool, whooping when you hit the water. Or when your garage band practices and one of the guitarists (because you need more than one when all your "band" seems to play is the same section of Steely Dan over and over...) is flat, seriously flat -- to the point that I, a non-musician, cringe pretty regularly at the dissonance. It's all part of living in a community. Or something.

But I am not kidding when I say this -- turn down the freaking Nickelback. I can't make you turn it off completely, I don't guess, and I can't blame you for wanting to blast music while you're composting your plants or cleaning your pool or whatever, but if you continue to bombard your general vicinity that faux rock music after the sun goes down, I guess we'll see what our little suburb's noise ordinances specify about appropriate times of day and decibel levels. Because aside from being clear about the depravity of my sin and my complete reliance on Christ to pay the price for it, I am also pretty clear about music. And Nickelback? No. Just -- no.

To: Boo
From: The Human You Barely Tolerate Who Feeds and Houses You
Re: It's me or the vet -- you make the call

Cat litter? In your eyes? Both of them at the same time? How did you do this? And why won't you let me get it all out so you can see and/or not get some sort of really gross infection?

And while we're at it -- stop growling at me. Honestly.

To: CNN
From: Frequent viewer
Re: All sizzle, no steak

Your new fangled high def studio makes me dizzy. It's oddly open and the camera crews following the "talent" around are really distracting and the new graphics packages often contain misspelled words or are incorrectly punctuated.

You've got too many things going on, and too few of them are news.

Try not to be too jealous of how I spend my Friday nights

2010-04-30T19:04:00.001-07:00

I don't know how to fold a fitted sheet. How I have manage to be almost 45 years old without mastering this, I am not sure, but there it is.

Tonight, trying to get a jump on my weekend chores by throwing in a few loads of laundry, I've been wrestling, quite literally, with queen-sized fitted sheets. The flat sheets and pillow cases have easily been folded into tidy rectangles, and then there's the fitted one sitting next to them -- a cottony lump without corners, without true folds. Just -- there.

I found myself thinking, "I'm sure there's a method to this or an easier way or something. I wish someone could just show me."

And then -- it occurred to me. Al Gore's internet! And YouTube specifically! Someone *would* show me, in a manner of speaking.

I am apparently not alone in the "how the heck to you fold one of these things, anyway?" category. There were quite a few how-to videos on the subject. I liked this one, mostly because the man's accent sounds like home to me.

In which I learn what my name would be if I were a panda

2010-04-27T10:12:00.000-07:00

Scene: Afternoon in the office. I am working through my voicemails, setting up appointments and generally trying to dig out after a morning spent in committee and an afternoon on the floor. I am on the phone with a constituent, a former school teacher who's coming to Sacramento and wants to meet to discuss education issues.

Me: So, I'll see you Wednesday at 11 here in Room 5080.

Constituent: Thank you, Nora Lynn. I'll just send you an email to confirm. What's your last name?

Me: Lynn.

Constituent: Lynn is your last name?

Me: It is.

Constituent: Your name is Nora Lynn Lynn?

Me: ... [I can feel the giggles starting in the back of my throat. Must... maintain... composure... ]

Constituent: Hello?

Me: Sorry. *choked voice* No. My first name is Nora and my last name is Lynn.

Constituent: Oh. Oh, I see. I bet you get that all the time.

Me: Actually, no. Not really.

Back

2010-04-25T08:53:00.000-07:00

Hey, so, it turns out...

... that there are people who don't take handfuls of Advil every day.

... that some people come home after a long day at work and do chores and cook dinner rather than collapsing on the couch in tears.

... pretty regularly, most people actually go to bed at night -- and sleep. For hours and hours at a stretch and wake up in the morning feeling better than they did the night before. Like, rested.

... that when Northern California is blessed with its typically gorgeous springtime weather, not everyone hisses at the sunshine like a vampire because it makes glare that sneaks around even enormous sunglasses and hurts.

... that there are people for whom pain is not a constant daily reality. Some of these people may be made, um, pudgy and a little more spaced out than usual by the multiple daily preventative medications they take to get this way (and all of which is made possible as all things are by His will and mercy and the constant prayers and concern of friends).

It turns out there are these people.

Is it wrong that I think this is kind of cool?

2010-04-22T06:28:00.000-07:00

From the "um, what?" category, Eric directs us to the story of a British woman who, after a particularly bad migraine, began spontaneously speaking with "a Chinese accent."

Via Sky News:

Sarah Colwill, a 35-year-old British woman, is now speaking, somewhat inexplicably, with a Chinese accent after suffering an extreme migraine, according to reports in the UK press.

Doctors suspect Colwill has Foreign Accent Syndrome, a rare condition which damages the part of the brain that controls speech and word formation. There are only 60 recorded cases of the condition.
While the syndrome may sound absurd - Colwill herself admits that she found it amusing at first - it can be extremely frustrating for its victims.

"I spoke to my stepdaughter on the phone from hospital and she didn't recognize who I was. She said I sounded Chinese. Since then, I have had my friends hanging up on me because they think I'm a hoax caller," Colwill said.

"The first few weeks of the accent was quite funny but to think I am stuck with this Chinese accent is getting me down. My voice has started to annoy me now. It is not my voice," added Colwill.

"It's in our ears," says Professor Sophie Scott, from the Institute of Cognitive Neuroscience at University College London, tells The Guardian. "Speech may be altered in terms of timing, intonation, and tongue placement, so that is perceived as sounding foreign."

Colwill is now receiving treatment for the syndrome.

And of course there's video, albeit shaky and with relatively poor sound. She's been getting treatment for a bit, but I don't hear whatever it is she and the doctors think she has, Chinese-accent-wise:

If I were in this spot and started speaking in, say, an Australian accent, I'm not sure I would get treatment for it. I would probably put on a Crocodile Dundee costume and go with it.

Report from the Valley of the Dolls

2010-04-10T12:02:00.000-07:00

For those of you following the odyssey of my migraines and efforts to find a successful treatment regimen (and, really, it's all so very interesting, how could you not be?), here's the latest after an appointment with my doctor yesterday.

In the first place, it was a group appointment -- she scheduled patients with like ailments to come in all at the same time. We met in a conference room at the professional building where her office is, wore name tags and, one by one, told the doctor our concerns or symptoms. Other patients would chime in with strategies or alternative experiences or non sequiturs or what have you. It was... interesting.

So. In no particular order:

I am not alone with the nut sensitivity. Nearly everyone there also gets nut triggered migraines. And chocolate triggered ones. And weather triggered ones. And flashing-light triggered ones. And, based on what they shared, I'm going to avoid a few other apparently common triggers and see if I notice any improvement -- hot dogs, luncheon meat, bacon (no!), wine (how will I console myself over the lack of bacon?!), and a few others.
I've battled insomnia my whole life, and Lynnie noticed that my sleeplessness seems to go hand-in-hand with migraines. The doctor prescribed Ambien for me, figuring that even if there's no direct connection with my headaches, I really should be sleeping. Every day.
The doctor also switched around one of the preventative medicines I take. I start that tonight, since the pharmacist indicated it might make me dizzy and I also wanted to be sure the other medicine was completely out of my system.
And I got a prescription for an anti-nausea medication. Both the migraines and some of the intervention drugs for them make me really barfy. Hopefully this will help me keep down fluids at least when I have a headache.

We (the doctor and I, not the collective) also decided that if these changes don't make a significant improvement in the frequency and intensity of the headaches, then I am off to a neurologist. Which is nice in a light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel sort of way but also kind of scary.

New favorite thing: buckwheat pillow

2010-04-09T08:37:00.000-07:00

I am a little weird about sleeping.

I've fought insomnia most of my life, even as a small child, which has left me sort of oddly controlling about details of my sleeping environment. The temperature of the room has to be just so; sheets and blankets have to have a certain weight to them, be layered just exactly right. And the pillows I sleep with have been chosen very carefully. Add to all this my migraines, which generally cause me to take to my bed at some point -- bedding is important is all I'm saying.

For nearly 10 years, I've slept on a TempurPedic pillow, and I really didn't think there was anything better, at least for me. It provided great support, even though I sleep on my side, and when I'm in pain from a headache, it was comfortable.

But one day a couple of months ago, I was trolling Al Gore's internet, checking in on the various message boards I like. On one of them that usually hosts conversations about shoes and makeup and whatnot was a post titled "Magical Pillow." This person had just slept her first night on a buckwheat pillow and couldn't say enough wonderful things about it. It was supportive, dissipated heat well so its surface stayed cool, and it was easy to smush into the perfect shape regardless of her sleeping position. She reported having the best night's sleep she'd had in years.

I was skeptical. I mean, I remember the old Sobakawa pillows from a while back -- undersized and sold over the TV. No way could something like that be good. But then I clicked over to a migraine message board board, and what did I see? Another post by a completely different person titled "Magical Pillow." This woman, who is just as weird as I am about bedding and whatnot since she too takes to her bed with headaches, had just had just had her first night with a buckwheat pillow. She too raved about the quality of sleep, the ability of the pillow to conform nicely without being too soft or too hard. She went on and on.

So, of course I bought one. I mean, I'd stand on my head and eat raisins if someone told me it'd help my headaches and/or improve my sleep. It wasn't cheap at $55, but good down pillows run at least that much, and if it turned out not to be all that, I'd just return it.

But oh my gosh -- wow. It is amazing, basically. I mean, it is just a pillow, not a cure for cancer or anything so it can only be so good, but from the first night I slept on it, I could tell it was the right choice for me. Firm, but able to be manipulated to support my head as I flopped around in my sleep. The buckwheat hulls do provide a much cooler surface so I spend less time flipping my pillow over during the night. And when I take to my bed with a migraine, it supports my head nicely without being too firm. And since it's heaver than a down pillow, it stays in place on my bed even when I'm wallowing in my sleep and/or from the medicine, so I don't wake up to find it on the floor.

It may actually be a magical pillow.

Opening Day!

2010-04-05T06:36:00.000-07:00

It's the most wonderful time of the year.

It is finished

2010-04-04T07:00:00.000-07:00

Easter fail

2010-04-03T08:35:00.000-07:00

It takes a lot to surprise or disgust me anymore, particularly when it comes to how low many seeker-sensitive megachurches will stoop to separate lost sheep from their money, but this pretty much left me speechless: there's a church in Corpus Christi, Texas, celebrating Easter by -- wait for it -- giving away sports cars and flat screen TVs.

From christianpost.com:

Sixteen cars, 15 flat-screen televisions, furniture sets and other prizes are lined up at Bay Area Fellowship Church and ready to be claimed by anyone who attends the church's Easter services on Sunday.

Though the church of some 7,000 weekly attendees has regularly flexed its creative muscles to draw the unchurched, the upcoming "Ultimate Giveaway" is like no other outreach it has ever attempted.

...

Pastor Bil Cornelius, who made the game show analogy, admits it's a bit "outrageous." But he sees it as "an opportunity to share Christ with people who may never go to a church for any reason," he told The Christian Post.

And then there's this:

I don't mean to pick on this one church, because goodness knows there's a lot of similar nonsense going on out there. But there are so many things wrong with this, both for this body in Corpus Christi and others of its ilk -- that a church would make its focus cash and prizes rather than the sovereignty of God. That church is akin to a slot machine -- show up and you could win an Audi! That on the weekend Christians acknowledge the price paid for their sin -- the death of God's Son on a cross -- this is what this church is choosing to do, at best eclipsing and at worst ignoring the cost of our sin as well as the primacy of the gospel.

I now have another item on my prayer list for this Resurrection Weekend -- that the publicity and outcry this church's antics have garnered will be used by God for His purposes and not the world's; that the unchurched sheep who find their way to these services will be given supernatural grace and godly insight to look past the snake oil and mercenary tactics to, in spite of all efforts to the contrary, acknowledge their sins against a holy and all-powerful God, know that Jesus Christ died to spare them (and me) from His wrath, and turn their lives and will over to Him; and that the elders and pastor of this church would chose the narrow gate in the future and feed their flock on the meat of God's Word.

What did we do before YouTube?

2010-03-31T18:53:00.000-07:00

1 seemingly normal house cat + 1 strange soundtrack + induced cat weirdness = ~85% of YouTube's videos worth watching. Al Gore's Internet brings you ... Trololo Cat.

Finally, the epic showdown

2010-03-31T13:44:00.000-07:00

Elite 8? Final 4? No idea when it comes to college basketball. But when I saw this, I realized I have much stronger feelings about dessert than nearly anything else. Except the gospel. And "Lost."

You may need to click on the image to en-bigger it.

Long time, no see

2010-03-29T21:08:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the prolonged absence. I just haven't felt great between some persistent insomnia and the normal gamut of migraines. I had quite a restful weekend, though, and will have a short week at work this week, so hopefully I've turned the corner on some of this.

It was strange -- last night, after about two weeks of feeling not great, it was like someone flipped a switch. I started doing laundry, running the dishwasher, rearranging furniture. Crazy.

In any case, I hope not to have such long absences in the future.

In other news, today was Daisy's 15th birthday. We celebrated with a few of her favorite things: a nap on the couch, prolonged ear scratching and some French fries (no salt, though).

For Shu

2010-03-10T11:54:00.001-08:00

My street in bloom.

Spring has sprung.

Enormous cutlery

2010-03-09T06:36:00.000-08:00

I have, shall we say, a somewhat quirky home decorating aesthetic. I've paired some inherited 150ish-year-old antiques with plush ferret toys perched on their chair cushions. Up my stairs are what seem to be at a distance two very formal looking watercolor portraits, but up close you see that the portraits are of dogs, wearing formal robes and ruffled collars. I also have my initials hanging on the wall in my den, not because I'm a narcissist but because I watched The Mary Tyler Moore Show growing up, and she had an M on the wall of her apartment. I always wanted to be her when I grew up, and the initials are as close as I can get.

So, you get the idea. I'm weird. And anything too serious or formal needs some sillying up.

So imagine the squeal of delight I squealed when last night, at Pier 1, I spied this:

Yes, it's a fork. But it's a giant fork! In real life it's just about four feet tall. And shiny. And fantastic. And, and -- there was also a spoon!

I have long been wanting to do something to my dining room to make it a bit less stiff. I have an old French poster featuring a picture of a grumpy black cat on one wall (can't imagine why that would resonate...), but it still needed something. And that something, I now realize, was a giant fork and spoon mounted on the wall.

Behold:

Prayers for Miss Daisy

2010-03-07T10:56:00.000-08:00

She was pretty barfy yesterday, and then in the middle of the night, she had a seizure in her sleep.

We went to the emergency vet where she was rehydrated and given some meds just in case she's back on her way to a case of pancreatitis. The fluids alone seemed to really perk her up. She hasn't barfed since early last evening, so I hope a day of sleeping on the couch with me in front of a roaring fire will do the trick.

She'll be 15 on March 29 (which the ER vet couldn't believe -- even shivery with a little fever, she jumped up and down to smell his face and lick his nose), so every little hiccup in her health is taken seriously. I hope this doesn't sound silly, but I hope you'll keep her in your thoughts and prayers.

ETA: Someone is feeling much better. Here she is watching DVRed "Meet the Press." Apparently health care reform is fascinating to her.

Miscellany

2010-03-02T19:51:00.000-08:00

It's Day 2 of Operation: No Nuts and so far, so good. I did wake up headachey this morning, but once the rain started (and the medicine kicked in), it moved from the "oh dang" category to "not so bad."
Please behold Daisy from the couch this morning. In the time she sat with me while I waited on the rain and drugs, she managed not only to snag all of the woobie from me, but also to cocoon herself in it.

The new job is going really well, I think. I really like the people I work with and the team aspect of how things get staffed here. And it's so lovely to walk into a committee room or onto the Senate Floor and be greeted by familiar faces and welcomes. It's nice to be next door to Sean and David, too.
I have a New Favorite Thing, which I shall write about soon. A pillow that I read raves about online both on a makeup/clothes message board as well as a migraine one. And it's fantastic.

A moment of clarity

2010-02-28T15:37:00.000-08:00

I've been trying to puzzle through, to the extent I can, the various things that trigger migraines for me. Some are pretty clear cut, if weird (like the smell of asphalt or tires, flashing lights, changes in barometric pressure that come before rain, and chocolate), but others have been elusive. In particular, I've been stumped as to why so many mornings I wake up feeling fine, good even, but within an hour or so am in pain.

Until today. Maybe.

This morning I puttered around, getting my stuff ready for church, and felt great. Made breakfast (peanut butter toast -- try not to be too jealous of my glamorous life) and sipped coffee. I'd gotten through about half the toast when Daisy decided to freak out at a neighbor's lawnmower. At 7:30 a.m., but that's another post. Anyway, so I put down the toast, wrestled her back into the family room and played some fetch to soothe her. After about 10 minutes of this, I became sort of dimly aware that my head was starting to hurt. So I headed to the kitchen to get some medicine and on my way past the breakfast bar, grabbed a half-eaten piece of peanut butter toast -- and a light went on for me.

To experiment, I didn't eat any more. Just took a couple of Advil and drank more coffee to see what would happen. And sure enough, the headache got a little worse but finally sort of leveled off and then dissipated. I decided to push further -- and ate the rest of the (cold) toast. And wham! Another headache. Worse this time.

The rest of my little experiment isn't terribly interesting to anyone but me, but I really think I've stumbled onto something. It would explain why adding Benadryl to whatever other medicine I take usually makes the headache resolve sooner. And it would also explain why I can eat a small (couple of Kisses' worth) of chocolate without risking pain, but even the smallest amount of Nutella brings me to tears.

I really hope my nonscientific experiments are right and I'm on to something. I really do.

The week that was

2010-02-27T18:47:00.001-08:00

The first week at the new job was mostly a blur, I have to say.

Even after so many years in the Legislature, taking on a new role is tiring. Learning to fit in with established routines and patterns, starting to figure out how my strengths can be brought to bear, fighting the forces of technology (the BlackBerry is still sort of at half mast) and new-hire paperwork -- and then there were hearings and floor sessions and meetings to fit in, too. I woke up today just worn out from it, but in a good way.

I'm thrilled at the amount of responsibility I'm being given, the warmth which which I have been welcomed, and just the amount of good work that is getting done. With people who kind and open minded and gracious. I'm still not sure how many bills I'll wind up carrying. So far, I have one, but will be staffing the senator for Education and Appropriations committees as well as the floor, so those assignments should be enough to keep me off the streets.

All this, and I was still able to see Cora this week, visit Sean and David (immediately next door!) for coffee and a cookie and screen saver pictures, participate in a limited "Lost" caucus and manage to eat lunch every day. Not a bad start.

Going home

2010-02-18T15:41:00.001-08:00

I am so thrilled to report that Monday (pending Rules Committee approval), I will be joining the staff of State Senator Elaine Alquist (D-Santa Clara).

Not entirely sure yet what policy areas or legislation I'll be staffing, but that will unfold in the next week or so.

Whew. And yay!

Various

2010-02-15T19:36:00.000-08:00

In no particular order...

I chopped off my hair Saturday. I needed the normal trim/color thing that happens every six weeks (oh, being 44 is fun fun fun sometimes) and just decided to go short. Sweet Colette is, I think, the only person to see it so far as I've been housebound with headaches and some sort of a gross stomach thing, but yes. Hair. Chopped.
Christina cannot send her crazy-if-obedient husband to my office to take paparazzi pictures of the new cut, though, because I lost my job. A week ago today, I was let go. And that's all I want to say about that.
I had a couple of interviews that went, I think, well in the past week. Such a blessing in a down economy and when unemployment figures are a trailing indicator of economic recovery. I'm blessed with great friends. And a great God.
I just hate Facebook anymore. Am I alone here? The format changes coupled with the distinct sense I have that my data is being mined have made me just sort of "meh" about the whole thing. I never log in anymore, so if you've sent me a Facebook message and I haven't responded, I'm sorry. I'm not sure how much longer I am going to go through the charade of maintaining an account there.
When Sweet Colette came over Saturday, she brought (among other things) sweet-potato-based dog treats for Daisy. Knowing that Daisy has a weird sixth sense for potato detection and begs shamelessly for potato-based foods. Daisy loved the treats, doing her prancey dance in anticipation of them and chewing so seriously that she adopted a widened stance and sort of unfocused her eyes. Once I manage to charge my camera sufficiently, I will record her prancey dance for all to see.
Yes, I changed the blog template again. I have a short attention span.

Late breaking update

2010-01-24T08:14:00.000-08:00

All three of the aforementioned lost items have come home to roost:

The glasses were in the guest bedroom. I haven't been in that room that I can remember for at least a month.
The remote control was under my bed. Of course.
And the mailbox key had somehow found its way into my garbage disposal.

Because I know y'all were dying to know. I really have lost it, or there's a boggart in my house. One of the two.

Losing it

2010-01-23T10:46:00.001-08:00

In the past 24 hours, I've managed to lose a pair of glasses, the remote control for my bedroom TV, and my mailbox key.

The maddening aspect of this is that I know for a fact these items are somewhere in my house. I mean, I don't exactly take the TV remote out to run errands or anything. I haven't worn the pair of glasses I've misplaced outside the house for at least three months. I do take the mail key outside since that's where the box is, but it's a pretty short walk and for nearly nine years now, I've checked the mail and then, once I'm back inside, hung the key on this specific hook. And yet, somehow, it too is not where it should be.

I share all this because it's sort of a metaphor for how I'm feeling these days. Out of sorts. A little lost. Like the pieces of the the puzzle of my life don't quite fit together as cleanly as they used to or as they seem to for other people.

I haven't talked much about this, aside from a few oblique references, because I don't know that my battle against migraines is terribly interesting. It boils down, on some level, to an equation of Head Hurts + Medicine - Brain Power + Discomfort. But a dear brother in Christ urged me yesterday to talk about this part of things, that it's part of my life just as the pets or the job or the YouTube kitten videos are.

The preventative medication I'm taking nowadays is an anticonvulsant -- not as intellectually stunting as the Topamax was, but I'm still pretty much dumber than a bag of hammers (a very sleepy, yawning bag of hammers). It definitely blunts my creativity: finding the right word is a challenge, and my problem solving and capacity to synthesize data or concepts are limited, too -- and, to some measure along with them, my me-ness. Since I can't really engage as quickly or fully in conversation as I once could, I tend to hang back more. Coupling that with how sleepy the drugs make me -- I am drinking a whole lot of coffee and Red Bull in the afternoon these days -- I'm not exactly a social butterfly.

And that's become my real struggle -- at what point is the medication the problem versus the pain? How much of myself am I willing to shut down or drug away as part of the pain management process? My doctor and various Internet message boards assure me that the side effects will abate in time, so for now I'm willing to wait it out. Every day I weigh this, and so far, even with the dopiness and limited intellectual capacity, the medication wins: the pain is less, I think, overall, and I can still more or less function. But I'm definitely nearing the tipping point.

Please give

2010-01-22T18:42:00.000-08:00

In the week and a half following the earthquake in Haiti, I have been glued to CNN.

Port-au-Prince lies in ruin -- its people unsheltered, its children parentless, its wounded untreated. An estimated 1 million Haitians have been displaced.

It's staggering to watch the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere struggle to right itself in the wake of a catastrophe the likes of which would gravely test the emergency readiness and response of even the richest of nations. But for a country already impoverished, where even before the quake 80 percent of its citizens lived on less than $2 a day, it's almost unimaginable how this people will rise from the ashes.

Officials there have conservatively estimated some 150,000* Haitians have been laid to rest in the last 10 days alone. How many more have yet to be unearthed? And given the lack of emergent medical care, antibiotics and the ability to conduct even relatively routine surgeries, how many more will survive the initial quake only to die in the days and weeks to come?

Inevitably it's the children's faces that are the last to leave me as I fall asleep at night -- safe and warm in my bed, a seismically-sound roof over my head and uncontaminated food and water at the ready. No want, no need.

With no skills that I can put to use there binding up the injured or sheltering the homeless or feeding the hungry, I'm left to pray. And to open my wallet.

Red Cross

AmeriCares

CARE

International Medical Corps

International Rescue Committee

Doctors Without Borders

World Health Organization

* The original 70,000 figure was updated by Haitian governmental officials on 1/25/10.

On having cut my hair short

2010-01-11T10:49:00.001-08:00

Interaction with Anthony, the homeless guy on the corner with whom I chat every workday morning.

Me: Good morning!

Anthony: Good morning. Did you cut your hair short because you were mad at someone?

Me: Er, no. Just ready for a change is all.

Anthony: Oh, good. I've had two women do that. I had to leave.

Hook 'em

2010-01-07T22:43:00.001-08:00

New favorite thing: stainless steel straws

2010-01-06T16:17:00.000-08:00

I love straws. Love, love, love them. I love them so much, in fact, that I typically use two at a time in my drinks (I don't know why. I've always done this. Must be an only-child thing) and even have an old-school, jadeite pull-up straw dispenser on my kitchen counter at home. Love them.

So, when I saw these, I sort of shrieked a little bit. They're simply great -- reusable (so I don't get enviro guilt about using two non-renewable straws at a time and go off and buy a carbon credit someplace), cool looking (I mean, aren't they?), and just plain unique.

A box of 50 plastic straws costs like $1 or something, so it's not like I'm saving money with these, but they're sure a pleasure to use. The only down side? Since they're pre-bent, they don't fit in my cool straw dispenser.

Happy New Year

2009-12-31T16:53:00.001-08:00

Hope y'all have a safe, healthy start to 2010.

New favorite thing: Olay Definity Color Recapture

2009-12-28T10:28:00.001-08:00

I wear makeup nearly every day. I think between being raised as a good Southern girl and having terrible under eye circles and various other things that need to be covered up, leaving the house barefaced is just not me.

On the weekends I don't want to go through all the hullabaloo of a full face of makeup, but I still feel naked without something on my face. Given all this I am sort of constantly on the hunt for a tinted moisturizer in particular that looks natural, doesn't get all weird by midday, provides some coverage but isn't too foundation-y, doesn't make the oiliness of my skin worse AND matches my fair, sort-of warm-colored complexion. It's a tall order, and since I've been wearing one form of foundation or other since I was I think about 12, I've tried what seems like everything out there. And it takes a lot for me to really embrace a product.

One of the skincare/makeup message boards I frequent was full of raves for Olay Definity Color Recapture, but I was skeptical. Most Olay products I've tried have been a disappointment, even since they've reformulated and made themselves all fancy, and at almost $24, this was pricey for a drugstore product. Too, my local Target and drugstores didn't carry it and, even if they had, Internet postings indicated that there were no testers available at brick-and-mortar stores to check for color matches. But the online raves were compelling and consistent, so when I was making a drugstore.com order, I threw in a bottle in the fair/light shade.

And I have to say -- I'm impressed. The tube of product is pretty large, and a little goes a long way, so while the price is definitely higher than that of other drugstore options, it also seems like you're getting more for your money. The color is forgiving, so the handful of available shade ranges should work for most people. It provides a little coverage, just enough to hide some redness and make me feel presentable, and after it dries the finish is really nice. And, best of all, it didn't exacerbate my oiliness or wear off oddly in the oily parts of my face. This stuff definitely competes with department-store tinted moisturizers I've tried in the past, and I have to say I really, really like the end result. Several people at church yesterday told me I looked great, which I attribute to this stuff.

I'll still keep more traditional foundations on hand for work and dress-up occasions, but the Color Recapture has earned its place in my makeup rotation.

Song of the day

2009-12-27T15:22:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure how many people know of the late singer Eva Cassidy. She reinterpreted many folk, rock and jazz standards, performing them largely for Washington, DC audiences. She released a couple of albums prior to her death from melanoma in 1996 at the age of 33. A BBC broadcast of her version of "Over the Rainbow" several years after her death (an amazing interpretation of a great song) brought posthumous attention to her work and her album "Songbird."

One of my favorite songs ever is Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time." It's been covered by artists ranging from Ronan Keating to Matchbox 20. But Eva Cassidy's version remains my favorite. Her clear, haunting voice just stays with me.

Merry Christmas

2009-12-25T00:01:00.000-08:00

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria. And all went to be registered, each to his own town. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the town of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear. And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,

“Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”

When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.” And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger. And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child. And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

And at the end of eight days, when he was circumcised, he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.

--Luke 2:1-21

'O Holy Night' as sung by Cartman

2009-12-23T11:27:00.000-08:00

I love "O Holy Night" -- it's definitely my favorite Christmas carol and probably up there in terms of my all-time favorite hymns.

After Sharon posted the lyrics to the song in both French and English, I felt compelled to poke around on YouTube to see if I could find a nice version to post here for the holidays. And -- well, this just made me laugh. I think it's the way most people sing and know the song.

An old dog learns a new trick

2009-12-21T07:50:00.000-08:00

Life can be hard when you're a nearly-15-year-old dog. Winters are tough, even relatively mild California ones, and just getting around like you used to is a bit more challenging. Even at her advanced age, though, Daisy has remained remarkably sprightly and springy. Until about a month ago, that is, when she was trying to jump up onto the couch -- and missed. She fell, hard, and both of us sat on the floor afterward, shivering and crying a little.

So I have finally and officially entered the realm of Crazy Pet Owner with the purchase of this thing -- a pet ramp/step contraption. Yes, I realize that I am now actively enabling (with furniture, no less) one of the very behaviors I've spent most of the time I've had her trying to make her stop. But that spill she took was really nasty, and since she spends most of her time when I'm away at work sleeping on the couch, whether I want her to or not, it seemed like an almost reasonable purchase to keep her safe. Almost.

Of course, not unlike her owner, Daisy resists change. So the ramp/step contraption has spent the last two or so weeks here in the family room totally unused. I've tried to pick Daisy up and put her on it, lure her to it with baby talk and by crawling on it myself (shut up), but no dice -- she's eyed it warily and acted like it's some satanic device from outer space to be shunned and feared. No amount of coaxing on my part could change her very small mind.

Until I had a stroke of genius -- cheese! Or, more accurately, "cheese" since she's only ever eaten Velveeta. It's her third favorite thing in the world (her favorite being a tie between French fries and her SnuggleSafe fresh from the microwave), and food is one of the few things that can motivate her stubborn little self.

Here is the clearly menacing contraption with cheese on its three steps, just waiting to lure Daisy into its evil clutches.

And here's Daisy, almost literally as far as she can get away from it and still have me in her field of vision. I think she worried that I was so close to the wicked thing, but not so concerned as to jeopardize her own safety.

Eventually, she nervously, carefully crept toward the couch, the Velveeta's siren song working its magic.

And then, finally, she commits, snatching the cheese morsel off the bottom step.

Almost before I knew it, she was more than halfway up the steps, snarfing "cheese" as she went.

And then -- victory! On the couch, having used the steps to get there, Daisy was quite pleased with herself.

Of course, she immediately jumped down, waiting for me to produce more "cheese" to reward her again for her fearlessness.

Now, after this episode, she goes up and down the steps without a second thought. Like it's her J-O-B. Which, in a way, it sort of is.

And here's a picture of Boo. He didn't use the steps, but then again he never does anything he doesn't want to do.

Not sure what I think about this

2009-12-18T11:21:00.000-08:00

Lynnie asked today if I'd seen this video yet, and I had not. It is compelling and a clear gospel call. From the Catholics.

Thoughts?

Pap schmear?

2009-12-11T11:43:00.001-08:00

A coworker said he'd seen this public service announcement last night on CBS, and sure enough, lookee here. Once again, I don't have words. The perfect Christmas gift is, apparently, a Pap smear:

Or Hanukkah gift, even:

Yikes.

Appalled. Disgusted. Aghast.

2009-12-07T14:42:00.000-08:00

I am rarely at a loss for words, but after reading Seattle Times columnist Danny Westneat's recent piece about a single mother of two children earning less than $19,000 a year who was audited by the IRS, I am. Not only was she audited, but after her parents (with whom she and her two little boys lived) hired an accountant to help her with the back-taxes fiasco, the IRS audited them, too.

Here's the whole column. I have no words.

Rachel Porcaro knows she's hardly rich. When you're a single mom making 10 bucks an hour, you don't need government experts to tell you how broke you are.
But that's what happened. The government not only told Porcaro she was poor. They said she was too poor to make it in Seattle.

It all started a year ago, when Porcaro, a 32-year-old mom with two boys, was summoned to the Seattle office of the Internal Revenue Service (IRS). She had been flagged for an audit.

She couldn't believe it. She made $18,992 the previous year cutting hair at Supercuts. A few hundred of that she spent to have her taxes prepared by H&R Block.

"I asked the IRS lady straight upfront — 'I don't have anything, why are you auditing me?' " Porcaro recalled. "I said, 'Why me, when I don't own a home, a business, a car?' "

The answer stunned both Porcaro and the private tax specialist her dad had gotten to help her.

"They showed us a spreadsheet of incomes in the Seattle area," says Dante Driver, an accountant at Seattle's G.A. Michael and Co. "The auditor said, 'You made eighteen thousand, and our data show a family of three needs at least thirty-six thousand to get by in Seattle."

"They thought she must have unreported income. That she was hiding something. Basically they were auditing her for not making enough money."

Seriously? An estimated 60,000 people in Seattle live below the poverty line — meaning they make $11,000 or less for an individual or $22,000 for a family of four. Does the IRS red-flag them for scrutiny, simply because they're poor?

I asked the local office of the IRS. They said they couldn't comment for privacy reasons.

"We can't give you any kind of broad interview because your request is associated with the case of an individual taxpayer," IRS Media Relations said in a statement.

So I'll just tell you Rachel's story.

She had a yearlong odyssey into the maw of the IRS. After being told she couldn't survive in Seattle on so little, she was notified her returns for both 2006 and 2007 had been found "deficient." She owed the government more than $16,000 — almost an entire year's pay.

She couldn't pay it. Her dad, Rob, has run a local painting business, Porcaro Power Painting, for 30 years. He asked his accountant, Driver, for help.

Rachel's returns weren't all that complicated. At issue, though, was that she and her two sons, ages 10 and 8, were all living at her parents' house in Rainier Beach (she pays $400 a month rent). So the IRS concluded she wasn't providing for her children and therefore couldn't claim them as dependents.

She stood to lose what is called earned income tax credit, a refund targeted to help low-income workers. You qualify only if you're working, as Rachel has been.

Driver quickly determined the IRS was wrong in how it was interpreting the tax laws. He sent in the necessary code citations and hoped that would be the end of it.

Instead, the IRS responded by launching an audit of Rachel's parents.

"I was floored," says Rob Porcaro, 59. "I get audited now and then in my business, so I've been through it before. But to have them go after me because of my daughter, well, I've never heard of anything like it."

Rob and his wife, Patty, had to send in house blueprints, bank statements, old utility bills. Rachel was asked to prove her children were hers, as well as document the money she'd spent on her children's clothes, health care and so on.

They racked up $10,000 in accountant bills — $8,000 of which Driver is trying to recover from the IRS.

In the end, the parents were cleared. The IRS also backed off trying to reclaim Rachel's earned income tax credit.

But the agency insisted Rachel couldn't prove she was supporting her children — she didn't have enough receipts — so she had to stop claiming them as dependents. A few weeks ago she paid back $1,438 (plus penalties and interest!) on that issue.

Way to go, IRS. You did an investigation likely costing tens of thousands of dollars (counting both sides). To squeeze a grand out of a single mom who did nothing wrong.

Legally, Rachel's kids now are in tax limbo. I met them at the Porcaros' house and they seemed real enough, jostling and pleading to play video games. But as far as the IRS is concerned, they don't exist. Neither Rachel nor her parents can claim them as dependents.

"I tell you, we don't buy a roll of toiler paper anymore without keeping the receipt," Rob said.

Why did this happen? The IRS won't say, but Congress has been fighting for years about the earned income tax credit for the working poor.

Republicans have called the credits "backdoor welfare" and tried to cancel them. When they controlled Congress, they ordered the IRS to ramp up audits of people who claim the credit.

In 2006, credit recipients such as Rachel were more than twice as likely to get audited as the rest of the 140 million individual tax filers.

The Porcaros say they get that the IRS can't just audit the wealthy. Poor people commit fraud, too. But the intensity and duration of the IRS' "obsession," as Rob called it, as well as that it appears the agency was trolling for the working poor, remains a sore point.

It's why they agreed to talk about their finances in the newspaper.

"I feel they're persecuting the people who are down in the mud making the bricks," Rob says. "I'm sure there are tons who don't have the resources to lawyer up. What a way to go, to have your own government take you down because you're too poor."

Driver, the tax specialist, says it's well-known that the system targets the weak — people with sloppy returns, for example, who don't tend to be well off.

"It's the way a wolf goes after the weakest sheep."

Rachel says an irony of her year in tax hell is that the IRS is right about one thing — you can't get by in Seattle on what she makes. That's why she's living with her parents. To try to make a life in our shimmering city without relying on welfare, food stamps or other public assistance.

"We're an Italian family," she said. "We're surviving as a tribe. It seems like we got punished for that."

OK, maybe I have a couple of words.

If it wasn't possible for her to provide for her children on so little money, according to the federal tax people, why was the IRS reviewers' response to that finding to audit her for missing income? If that theory were true, shouldn't social services have been notified of a case of potential neglect? I guess not. Or -- how about focusing the audit to be sure she took all deductions available to her? No, apparently not.

Um, what?

2009-12-07T07:31:00.000-08:00

So I was minding my own business this morning, reading online weather reports because the snow level is supposed to drop low enough today for Sacramento to get snow and I was worrying about the morning's commute. Like Sacramento drivers need a reason to crash into each other.

ANYWAY, so I was checking the weather. And this ad was on the weather.com ad page for my suburb. You may need to click on the image to en-bigger it:

The "homeowners fail to take advantage" ad is what caught my eye. Does a bearded, bare chested man with long straggly hair have something to do with refinancing? Is it a play on the Geico caveman ads? I am at a loss here.

Comic of the day

2009-12-03T16:29:00.000-08:00

Modern day Three Little Bears. Click on image to en-bigger it.

Kitten jazz hands

2009-11-30T04:03:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know -- YouTube is like a library of cute baby/kitten videos (mixed with equal parts of footage showing people extracting their own tonsil stones and/or demonstrating how to use a flat iron).

But this kitten video is, even in that great repository of kitten videos, a stand out. So cute.

A month of laundry

2009-11-29T08:55:00.000-08:00

What happens when you have a migraine headache for more than a month, off and on, more or less? Well, a few things, but one thing is, if you're me, that you don't do laundry. At all. Not a sock, not a pillowcase, not a dishtowel.

Until the day you run out of underwear, that is, and mercifully, that day happens to fall on a day you're pain free.

I have done I think 10 loads of laundry all told yesterday, including sheets and towels. Ten loads. For one person. That's a lot of laundry.

And here the majority of it sits, more or less folded or draped on the dining room table and chairs, waiting for the next wave of ambition and domesticity to hit me so I can put it all away.

A song about acne

2009-11-28T12:47:00.000-08:00

I love this guy! Via Schmutzie.

Whom do you follow on Twitter?

2009-11-27T09:28:00.000-08:00

Twitter is a strange, wonderful thing.

By reducing people's thoughts and comments effectively to haikus with its 140-character limitation, strange, funny, beautiful phrases and observations come often from people you'd least expect. Too, it's a little like the great equalizer -- so many famous people tweet under the own names or obvious handles (like Ashton Kutcher, who tweets under aplusk) that non-celebrities can get a small window into their lives and minds.

So -- who's following whom on Twitter? I follow many friends and colleagues, obviously, and lots of publications, but here's a list of other folks who amuse or inform me with their little blurbs.

WilliamShatner: Need I say more?
HalfPintIngalls: Yep, Laura Ingalls Wilder from Little House on the Prairie is a hilarious, anachronistic poster.
MarkFinan: Local weather guy. Hugely helpful to have weather forecasts tweeted to my phone a few times a day now that rain's on the menu.
NotRickWarren: He gets it, even if Pastor Warren doesn't.
FakeJohnPiper: Screamingly funny at times. Actually makes me laugh out loud.
FakeAPStylebook: Does anal retentive have a hyphen?
HowardKurtz: Writer for the Washington Post and CNN media commentator.
Sh*tMyDadSays: Generally profane, mostly amusing posts of a 29-year-old man who lives with his dad and tweets the little gems of wisdom his dad spouts throughout the day.
Dooce: Mom of two kids in Salt Lake City who blogs and tweets about her life and raising a precocious five-year-old and baby, living with dogs (one of whom is crazy) and a funny husband.
Wonkette: Caustic, potty-mouthed political commentary from the left.
ShoeBlogger: Very, very funny man who blogs and tweets in an homage to Manolo Blahnik about shoes and society.
PostSecret: The postcard art project I love so much in a Twitter version.
LigonDuncan: Mississippi pastor I admire (and have a small crush on) provides bits of doctrine and God's Word.
Hodgman: The humorist and embodiment of the PC in Apple commercials is a regular and frequent poster. His brain is a strange and funny place to be.
ESVDaily: A daily Bible verse from my preferred version of the Bible.

What are yours? Share in the comments, please.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all

2009-11-26T09:41:00.000-08:00

This time last year I was in New York with Eric and Shu! and their beloveds, surrounded by real cold weather and hustle and bustle and about 8.3 million other people and the start of the holiday season. It was an amazing, amazing holiday.

This year I'm in California, looking forward to food and fellowship (and fun!) with my church family. The pecan pie is in the oven, the black bean corn salsa is macerating in the frig, and Daisy and Boo are both snoring on the couch while "Modern Family" blares from the DVR. This, too, is amazing.

I'm so, so blessed.

Genius

2009-11-25T17:05:00.000-08:00

Jimmy Fallon does Neil Young doing Will Smith's "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air." Sorry about the dumb ad that may or may not be at the beginning of the video. But it's worth sitting through.

There are no words.

Ha!

2009-11-25T08:40:00.000-08:00

President Obama in remarks to some Washington, DC school children on Monday:

"As president, I believe that robotics can inspire young people to pursue science and engineering. And I also want to keep an eye on those robots in case they try anything."

I'm so with him on the robots.

16 golden retrievers + the atom = science!

2009-11-22T09:26:00.000-08:00

Via BoingBoing, a bunch of (incredibly well trained) golden retrievers show us the basic mechanics and construction of atoms. If Daisy were somehow part of this atomic demonstration, she'd be making a quark or an isotope or something.

I love science. And golden retrievers.

Um, what?

2009-11-17T13:11:00.000-08:00

Those crazy French. I have to say -- this is not an experience I've ever wanted to have myself.

From Reuters:

French hotel offers guests a night as a hamster
Tue Nov 17, 2009 8:15am EST

NANTES - It's a unique concept according to its creators, a hotel in the French town of Nantes is offering the chance for people to become a hamster.

For 99 euros ($148.10) a night, you can eat hamster grain, run in a giant wheel and sleep in hay stacks in what is called the "Hamster Villa."

It's a unique experience and, the guests say, just something
different.

The owners, Frederic Tabary and Yann Falquerho, run a company which rents out unusual and bizarre places.

"The Hamster in the world of children is that little cuddly animal. Often, the adults who come here have wanted or did have hamsters when they were small," Falquerho said, dressed as a hamster.

However, the price is soon to go up as today's hamsters need, according to the owners, Wifi and a giant TV screen. (Editing by Paul
Casciato)

So, so proud

2009-11-14T07:44:00.000-08:00

So two of my sisters in Christ, Lynnie and Doria, are running a marathon today. I mean, running it on purpose, because they want to -- not because someone with an axe is chasing them, which is I think what it would take for me to run 26 miles.

I've watched them over the months leading up to this race, and their example has just been amazing. They've been committed to their training regime -- consistent with a schedule of running and time in the gym, mixing up running outside together and pacing themselves alone in the gym on a treadmill to get their distances up and their times down. It's been convicting and inspiring, their ability to see a far-away goal and deliberately, one day at a time, take the necessary steps to meet it. Challenging steps that pushed them physically and mentally. Uncomfortable steps that they worked through time and again.

On top of this, they are are also beautiful and smart and kind and generous and godly and funny and all-around great women.

I am so proud of them -- and I am a better person for counting them as friends and sisters in Christ.

What's wrong with this picture?

2009-11-12T09:37:00.000-08:00

I wore two different colored shoes to work today.

And I didn't even notice until a coworker pointed it out.

Remembering veterans today

2009-11-11T09:56:00.000-08:00

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.”
-- John F. Kennedy

Two great things that go great together

2009-11-08T08:42:00.001-08:00

I love the Beastie Boys -- this is not news. And I love "Star Wars" -- the original trilogy, anyway.

Apparently there are other Star Wars geeks out there who love the Beastie Boys, too.

Day, night, day, night, day?

2009-11-03T20:42:00.001-08:00

Scenes from a long couple of days in the building...

Poor Piglet, scapegoated again

2009-11-02T07:43:00.000-08:00

More swine flu humor at Piglet's expense. From Lindsay. Who I miss and think should go to a community college here in Sac for a couple of years instead of going away to school.

Pet flu

2009-11-01T12:15:00.000-08:00

Not swine or Asian or bird. Pet flu. They both have something that has caused them to barf all over the place since about 8:00 this morning. Maybe they have some sort of Stoever sympathy virus?

Probably hard to tell from this picture, but they are very subdued. Definitely out of sorts.

At least they're sleeping now. But I'm leaving the paper towels and Spot Shot out on the counter for a bit longer.

I love this commercial

2009-11-01T09:18:00.001-08:00

Geek humor. I just saw it on teevee for the first time and laughed and laughed.

Happy Halloween, y'all

2009-10-31T14:00:00.000-07:00

My exciting day (and evening) consists of dodging the hundreds of kids who flock to Wisteria Lane to trick or treat and parsing various bills comprising the water package that's up for a vote Monday in the Assembly. Woo!

Waiting

2009-10-29T16:32:00.001-07:00

So after a literal lifetime of migraines, I finally had an MRI of my head this morning.

It was an open MRI, since I am claustrophobic as it turns out and had quite a, um, spell when I tried to do a closed one about two years ago.

Results should be to my doctor by Tuesday. I'd appreciate your good thoughts and prayers in the meantime.

Statement concerning Capitol Ministries

2009-10-24T15:24:00.000-07:00

I worked for Capitol Ministries for nine months. Most of you know that I returned to legislative life in the State Capitol this April. When I made the change, what I shared here about it was that I wasn't comfortable discussing all the reasons for the decision, and that even as I left full-time vocational ministry, I loved CM, its mission, those it sends out and the dear brothers and sister in Christ with whom I was blessed to work. And I've encouraged friends who are fellow believers to support the ministry with their time and treasure both during and after my employment there.

Sadly, I can no longer do this. Following is an abridged version of a statement the elders of my church sent out to members about CM:

As most of you know, over the last few months there has been a difficult and grievous situation developing with Capitol Ministries and Ralph Drollinger, President of CM. Grace Community Church in Sun Valley, CA (John MacArthur, Pastor-Teacher), where Ralph has been a member for many years and a sent-out missionary in his work with CM, recently issued a final statement regarding their relationship with Ralph and CM. With this final statement from GCC, and because of [our] long history and relationship with Ralph and CM, we believe it appropriate to pass this information on to you.

Our intent in sharing these things is three-fold:

1. To warn you, and encourage you to warn others, that Ralph Drollinger has been determined to be biblically disqualified for spiritual leadership by the elders of his home and sending church. Inasmuch as we agree with and support the determination of the GCC elders, we believe Ralph is not to be trusted or regarded as qualified to be in a place of spiritual leadership. Because Ralph is continuing in his role as President of CM, in spite of GCC’s determination, we believe he is a deceitful and divisive danger to the body of Christ (Rom. 16:17,18; Titus 1:10,11; 3:10,11). Therefore, neither Ralph nor any ministry endeavor he presently leads should be supported financially or otherwise.”

2. To encourage you to continue praying for God to be glorified in this situation, for God’s grace to be extended to Ralph in granting repentance, and for the Gospel to continue to go forward, particularly in capitols around the country and around the world. Likewise, please continue to pray for God’s sustaining grace to be provided for those directly and indirectly impacted by this situation...

3. To give you perspective and understanding regarding why Sean, Lynne, David, and Nora were compelled to resign from their full-time work with Capitol Ministries, why Pastor Greg resigned from the Board of Directors, and why we as a church no longer support or endorse Capitol Ministries.

GCC’s final statement follows some previous statements they had given concerning the situation. Here are GCC’s statements, which have been available to any who ask:

1. From July 17, 2009 –

“The elders of Grace Community Church have agreed to temporarily suspend our affirmation of Ralph Drollinger, pending the resolution of our inquiry into allegations made against him.”

2. From Sept. 24, 2009 –

“In the summer of 2009, five of the Capitol Ministries Board of Directors resigned. These men are well known to us and we have no reason to question their wisdom, discernment, or integrity. One of those former board members, John Anderson, is a respected member of our church in good standing; the other, John Bates, is one of our elders. It is the estimation of these men that Ralph Drollinger is not biblically qualified for spiritual leadership.

“We, the Grace Community Church elders, stand behind the assessment of these former members of the Capitol Ministries Board of Directors about Ralph’s disqualification from leadership in Christian ministry. The attacks Ralph has continued to make on the character and motives of these men, as well as our elders, regrettably affirms to us this determination.”

3. From Oct. 15, 2009 (this is GCC’s final statement) –

“After much observation of and interaction with Ralph Drollinger, we, the Grace Community Church Elders, maintain that he is not biblically qualified for Christian ministry. Consequently, we do not endorse Capitol Ministries under his leadership. Ralph Drollinger no longer has any relationship with Grace Community Church.”
These statements from GCC follow a lengthy process over the last 7 months which has resulted in the following within CM:
4 full-time staff of the Headquarters Office in Sacramento have resigned;
2 part-time staff of the Headquarters Office in Sacramento were effectively terminated;
6 of 8 Board of Directors have resigned, leaving just Ralph and his father-in-law Dan Madison (Note: the 6 who resigned did not all do so at the same time, and 2 new members were added a few weeks ago);
17 of 21 full-time State Directors have resigned.
....
P.S. The majority of former CM State Directors who have resigned have formed a new organization called The Capitol Commission, through which they purpose to continue their ministry in state capitols. If you have previously been financially supporting CM, we encourage you to direct your gifts to this new ministry.

Morning giggles

2009-10-22T07:28:00.000-07:00

Via Manolo the Shoeblogger. I have watched this four times in a row and can't stop giggling.

In which I am apparently not dressed correctly for the weather

2009-10-20T17:46:00.000-07:00

Scene: I am approaching the corner of L and 11th streets. Like most work mornings, I am met by Anthony, a homeless guy who sells his art and newspapers to Capitol community members streaming in and out of the building. It is sunny, but cool.

N: Good morning, Anthony! How are you today?

Anthony: And where is your COAT?!

N: Uh....

Anthony: And your HAT?!

N: Uh. *nervous giggle* It's not quite cold enough for all that, is it?

Anthony: (grimly) Well, it's very DAMP.

Best headline ever

2009-10-19T16:53:00.000-07:00

From nbcbayarea.com...

Skateboarder Cleared of Assaulting Homeless Physicist
Fission and quarks figure into quirky case

It's not every day that disputes over particle physics leads to assault charges.

But that's what happened when Jason Everett Keller, 40, joined a conversation about quantum physics in South San Francisco in March.

Keller was accused of attacking Stephan Fava while Fava and his friend were discussing physics in the Bay Area town.

The charges didn't stick, however, as Keller has been acquitted by a San Mateo County jury.

The verdict is still out string theory, however, so there's no indication that physics-related violence will abate any time soon.

Is anyone else's Google Reader freaking out lately?

2009-10-17T11:54:00.000-07:00

For about the last 10 days or so, roughly every other day, my Google Reader reports I have 1,000+ unread posts. Like, an hour after I last checked it. It seems to be spastically refreshing, or something. Maybe?

Anyone else? Or is it the drugs talking here?

All too true

2009-10-15T13:17:00.001-07:00

Not sure of the source of this. Somewhere on the Interwebs.

I know a few people who could use this

2009-10-15T07:39:00.000-07:00

Ha. Via challies.com, a postmodern apology slip. Click image to see it full size.

Seasonal repost -- Daisy's favorite thing: SnuggleSafe microwave heating pad

2009-10-14T14:19:00.000-07:00

Given the recent storms and dramatic turn in temperatures, Daisy's Favorite Thing has come out of mothballs for the season. She just loves it so much -- I thought it was a topic worth reposting.

Our winters are mild in Northern California, but there's still winter. Cold, damp, gray.

And if you're a 14-and-a-half-year-old dog with short hair who weighs 11 pounds, you feel it. The house has wood floors throughout the downstairs, and while I can throw on my Ugg slippers and some sweats, neither is really an option for Daisy. When I was home more between Christmas and New Year's Day, I noticed her shivering at times, even while curled up in a ball on the (seemingly warm) couch. It was time to do something.

I read on the Interwebs about the SnuggleSafe, a microwavable pod that you can put in your pet's bedding. After being microwaved, it maintains a nearly constant 123 degrees for about 12 hours, and since there's no electricity or cords involved, it's safe for use without being monitored by a human.

And here it is. A solid Frisbee looking thing filled, apparently, with some sort of space-age gel inside.

And here it is in its Polarfleece cover. The surface of the thingy gets pretty warm, so the cover enables it to be moved and touched.

Five minutes in the microwave in the morning...

... and then it gets tucked into Daisy's dog bed under the "covers," where it gently radiates warmth throughout the day.

I was worried that Daisy wouldn't take to it, or wouldn't want some weird thing in her bed with her. But I needn't have been concerned.

It's her new best friend.

Stormy weather

2009-10-13T14:09:00.001-07:00

The first major storm of the season blew in to the Sacratomato region overnight. The remnants of a typhoon, apparently, the storm's winds topped 45 mph throughout the area. Some 25,000 homes in Sacramento alone were without power and commutes into and out of downtown have been at a near stop all day.

It took me nearly three hours to drive the 15 miles from my house to the Capitol -- and I exited I-5 at the first opportunity and took back roads. Which were littered with downed trees, awash in surface flooding and plagued with nonworking street lights.

Rain is supposed to continue through tomorrow.

Swine flu hysteria

2009-10-06T13:36:00.000-07:00

From Lynnie.

New favorite thing: silica powder

2009-10-05T08:35:00.000-07:00

I have oily skin. This is both a blessing and a curse -- a blessing, because oilier skins tend to show aging less, which as I get older is definitely a good thing. A curse because, well, I'm oily -- my makeup tends to break down and slide off pretty early in the day, I'm more prone to breakouts, and then there's the shine that I have spent literally years fighting.

Powder is an oily goily's best friend, and I think I have tried most brands' products to fight the shine. And -- hardly any of them really work. They do for a while, but eventually, the oil gets the better of them. MAC Blot is, to me, the best pressed powder I've used for touching up during the day, but for a loose powder to use in the mornings when I'm getting ready, I hadn't found one that I really liked.

Some of the makeup-type message boards that I visit have been showing raves lately for Make Up For Ever's HD high definition loose powder. Oily skinned folks in particular raved about this stuff -- that its main ingredient, silica, didn't make oiliness worse, stayed matte all day long and blurred fine lines and flaws in the process. It sounded too good to be true -- I've heard it all before. And at $30, I wasn't going to take a chance on a product I couldn't sample first.

But then, I stumbled on Coastal Scents. This website offers a lot of cosmetics at vastly reduced prices from department stores (or even drugstores, in some cases). And -- they have a loose silica powder. Same ingredient as the MUFE version, same translucent shade, but at a fraction of the price -- $4 for an ounce vs. $30 for .35 ounce. And they sell samples so you can try before you buy.

And -- it's all that. I now see what the silica hoopla was about. It keeps me shine free longer than any other powder I've used, it does blur imperfections as advertised and the translucent shade (which is a stark white in the container -- it looks like baking powder) doesn't change the color of my foundation underneath. And at $4 a pop, I can use it liberally. It's my new mainstay.

Song of the day

2009-09-19T13:45:00.000-07:00

kd lang's voice is just so beautiful. So lacking artifice, so unadorned -- and just wrapped perfectly around the lyrics. And few people write lyrics as spare, lush and poignant as Leonard Cohen.

Here she sings his "Bird on a Wire." So beautiful.

On the mend?

2009-09-18T18:08:00.000-07:00

A few thoughts, in no particular order, as The Week That Was winds down.

Lots of medical stuff here Chez Something this week: migraine Saturday through Monday; doctor visit to assess said migraines on Tuesday; icky oral surgery on Thursday (which Sweet Colette got me through with flying colors); icky oral surgery recovery day today.
I am now the proud owner of two prescriptions for migraines and three prescriptions for oral surgery recovery. I am basically taking pills like it's my J-O-B.
If any of you see me driving a car before, say, Saturday at noon, please effect a citizen's arrest, because the odds are very good that I will be altered by some sort of pain medication.
Of course, all these drugs have different dosing schedules. Which, since one of them is for pain, I basically can't keep straight (see Bullet #3 re highness). My current medication strategy is to take at least one pill of some kind every time I wander into the kitchen. So far, so good.
The mouth stitches come out Thursday. It will be nice to bite and chew again, but I can't really argue with the flatness of my stomach today.
The new migraine drugs should kick in within a couple of weeks. I say "new," but really they're old -- I was on them several years ago for a long time and they worked well for me then. Right up to the point they quit working. Maybe they'll do the trick again after a few years' lapse. I have a follow-up doctor appointment in late October and, if things aren't better, I'm off to the neurologist.
I'm also scheduled for an open MRI of my head near the end of October. I hope I behave myself this time.
I am so looking forward to getting out of my pajamas, running errands and doing chores -- rejoining the world.

I must own this

2009-09-17T06:39:00.000-07:00

Via the geniuses at Shelteriffic, a must-have for those of us who love Harry Potter and gadgets: a magic-wand-slash-TV-remote-control!

Behold!

It's not cheap at almost ₤50, but The Wand Company says it will perform 13 "magical functions," works with nearly any device that uses a remote and takes minutes to master. Shipping is free in the UK (₤10 to the US).

It officially goes on sale October 1 but is available for preorder now.

This is too true

2009-09-15T14:56:00.000-07:00

Love GraphJam. Love.

Memoranda

2009-09-11T16:03:00.000-07:00

To: Crazy Bay Area environmental lobbyist on the phone
From: Harried legislative director
Re: Slow your roll

So, let me get this straight. You've tried for six consecutive years to get a bill through the Legislature and have failed. You have a sense that the sixth time will not be the charm and are calling offices to try to shore up votes. I'm with you so far.

Your strategic error, may I be so bold to say, was when you told me that I was a "personal disappointment" to you when I shared that I didn't think my boss agreed with your position or your bill. You need to get through me to communicate to my boss what your concerns are; insulting me personally when I have a policy difference with you (a difference that the majority of lawmakers have shared for six years) is not perhaps the best political strategy.

To: Secretary in the elevator
From: More prim and proper than I thought
Re: Cover yourself

I get it's the last day of session. I get that it's hot. I get that we're going to be here a long freaking time and it sucks to to be stuck in uncomfortable office wear.

But, hey -- clothes! That are opaque! And cover all your erogenous zones! We won't even talk about what's appropriate for the Capitol vs. what you'd wear to a picnic or to wash the car.

I think a good operating principle would be that if both your panties and your bra are visible, you're not quite done getting dressed. Just saying.

To: Tourists visiting the Capitol today
From: Someone who truly enjoys working for taxpayers
Re: Please, please let me get past you

I know you're not here all the time. I know you don't understand that this is the busiest of days for us, that literally hundreds of things are happening at once, and that while, yes, absolutely, this is your building, it's also our office.

We're glad you're here. We hope you see how hard we work, how much we care about what we're doing, how intensely committed we are to a better state, better education, better roads and air and even better football stadiums. And -- the fact that you're here on today of all days is really a good thing.

But please -- PLEASE. If you see someone in serious office wear, her arms full of binders and folders and clutching a BlackBerry and several pens, literally running in high heels -- could you just step aside a little to let her pass? Please? You're on vacation or at least a Friday off work. Will that 15 seconds really mean as much to you as it does to her as she's trying to get to the floor or committee or Leg Counsel or where ever? And, one more thing -- if you could manage not to roll your eyes and/or say something crappy about politicians/Democrats/how we're all thieves or crooks, that would be the icing on the cake.

Have a pleasant stay.

Remembering

2009-09-11T06:40:00.001-07:00

New favorite thing: Emi hair dryer by Remington

2009-09-07T08:45:00.000-07:00

Anyone with curly hair knows that it is a bit of a challenge. I think that's probably why most of us wind up spending years straightening with blow dryers and hot irons -- smoother hair is a bit more predictable, at least, and the time we spend fussing, while not a lot of fun, tends to produce more consistent results.

When I stopped straightening my hair and embraced its curl, I still had some work cut out for me. Product is critical, and I'm lucky my stylist pointed me in the right direction there. A good cut is also really important -- my hair's fine, but there's lots of it, so I need some layers to avoid looking like the triangle-haired woman in "Dilbert" and also let the curl lose a little weight and be a bit springier.

Last, and for me most important, was the dryer. My curly hair, like I'm guessing most people's, isn't uniformly curly all over my head. Some places are almost kinky; others, mostly straight; and then there are patches with some wave but that, without coaxing, just lie there. A diffuser helps coax out some curl, but doesn't do the whole job.

I read about the Remington Emi blow dryer on a message board, and I really had some doubts. It basically sucks sections of hair into a tube-like attachment on the nozzle, spinning it and drying it into a corkscrew shape. Behold a German YouTube video that shows the basic routine:

Longer hair is left with something like dreadlocks, which can then be broken up into waves. For shorter, layered hair, like mine, the spinning action sort of activates my hair's natural curl, giving me more uniformity all over.

I love this thing. The weird nozzle can come off, too, so you can use it like a normal dryer.

The ceramic version (whatever that is) is $29.99 on amazon.com and drugstore.com, but my non-ceramic one came from Target and was like $23. It takes some practice (my first couple of times using it, I couldn't really leave the house...), but if your hair's curly or even wavy, it may be a good tool to add to your hair arsenal.

Good night, sweetheart

2009-09-05T17:42:00.000-07:00

Like the disembodied woman's voice says in the video, I wouldn't have believed if I hadn't seen it for myself.

Ways to tell that it's near the end of session

2009-09-03T13:37:00.001-07:00

Bills are not so much "legislation" as they are "zombies."

The answer to everything is "Sure!" followed by a slightly hysterical giggle.

You don't know what day it is. Because it doesn't matter.

You accidentally use lotion in in place of hair gel in the morning and your hair looks the same.

A matching outfit is one in which everything you wear is clean.

Lots of crying. Lots of yelling. Lots of door slamming.

You are an expert on an issue 15 minutes after you hear about it for the first time in your life.

Caucus caucus caucus.