Tuesday Miscellany

I was checking my stats earlier, and found a few noteworthy searches that brought people to my page. I have linked to my archive pages for these searches, but even I can't figure out why I ended up being a search result for them.

1. Dingo Boy
2. Good manners (Why me? I'm so not a paragon of virtue.)
3. Disgusting infections (Again, why me? What did I have?)
4. Scott Wolfe/Kelly Limp wedding pictures (You people need lives. I get at least five search hits a week based on a brief reference to their wedding.)

If any of you bloggy types out there are looking for a really good, free, invisible hit counter, I really do recommend Stat Counter. I like not having a visible counter cluttering up my pretty page design.

In other news, it appears I've grown a full bra size. Can't tell you how happy I am about that. Hooray for hormone supplements! Thank God I didn't get a mustache.

Finally, a co-worker was telling me about this really good shower cleaner she has. We were bemoaning what drudgery cleaning the shower stalls in our homes can be, and she recommended products from Don Aslett, particularly the kitchen floor cleaner and the shower stuff. I'm thinking I may have to try them...

I Can't Believe They Let These People Drive

We were in Boise yesterday and I stopped at CostCo for gas. While waiting in line for the pumps, I looked over and saw a pickup with a vanity license plate that said, "CUNHVN." Exqueeze me, but isn't that for God to decide? How vain can you get? Mid-scowl, I also noticed that the plate was bracketed by W04 and Bush/Cheney bumper stickers. I'm sure he thinks Jesus is happy that his side won the election.

And if that wasn't bad enough??? The truck drove off and was replaced with a Lexus whose plate said, "RUSHLVR."

Ass hats...

Selling Myself

I find myself needing to write a resume'. I haven't written one since shortly after high school, when I applied to (and got) a job as a secretary with an insulation company. My current employer, who I have been with for about eleven years now, has always had us fill out an application form. I was pretty good at those. However, I'm kind of lost on this resume' thing.

Do any of you have advice on how to write a really good one? How about websites that you recommend for resume' building? Also, if you want to take a look at mine and give it a critique, I'd be happy to e-mail it to you. Gracias! (No, I don't really speak a second language, unless ordering food and swearing count. Better leave that off the document, eh?)

Take That!

Dispute Over Turkey Blamed for Stabbings

WORCESTER, Mass. - A man with a history of mental illness charged with stabbing two relatives after they criticized his table manners during Thanksgiving dinner was ordered by a judge Friday to undergo a psychiatric evaluation.

The fight broke out when Gonzalo Ocasio Jr., 18, and his father, Gonzalo Ocasio, 49, reprimanded Frank Palacios for picking at the turkey with his fingers, instead of slicing off pieces with a knife, police told The Telegram & Gazette of Worcester.

It's a darn good thing just thinking about it can't get you arrested...

My First Real Kiss, and the Subsequent Trauma

This kind of came up over at Casey's page. I asked her to post about who gave her her first real kiss, and what she knows about him now. I referenced my own experience, and she wanted to hear the story. So here goes.

Let's first keep in mind that I was a Jehovah's Witness until I forced them to kick me out at the age of 21. Because of that, I grew up under a blanket of innocence. I couldn't go to school dances, I couldn't play sports, and I sure as hell couldn't get involved with someone of the opposite sex, particularly if they weren't a JW.

With that all in mind, it was a miracle of sorts that my mother allowed me to ride the team bus up to the state basketball tournaments, with my friends (the cheerleaders). On the way back down, there was a boy sitting beside me. We were friendly and all, but I was snug in my sixteen year-old innocence blanket and never really thought about him from a lustful standpoint. Next thing I know, he's holding my hand there in the dark. Well, this was probably the pivotal point in my whole life. Religiously speaking, it was all downhill from there. Why? Because it felt pretty good. I liked sitting there, holding this guy's hand. Then he reached over, turned my chin toward him, and he kissed me. That still rates as a pretty darn good kiss. The second one was even better.

After that bus ride, I wigged out from religious guilt. I can't actually remember if I confessed my sin or not, but I had to give this boy the whole spiel of, "I can't date you because I'm a Jehovah's Witness and we're not allowed to date until we're ready to get married." (I sort of wish I had pictures of the weird looks I got from boys/men up until I quit saying that and switched over to, "Take me, big fella.")

Where is he now? Well, Matt came home from work one day and jokingly said, "I ran into an ex-boyfriend of yours today." I said, "Oh?" He said yes, and named this boy. I laughed and explained that this guy was the one who gave me my first kiss. The look Matt gave me was very similar to the one I mentioned above. I said, "What?" Matt told me that this guy weighs about a buck twenty-five now, has a long, greasy pony-tail, scabs on his face, and appears to be badly hooked on methamphetimine. Sad, huh? Ah, those innocent days of long ago...

Stuffed

Well, I hope you all survived Thanksgiving and all the family stuff that can ensue during such celebrations. As you can clearly see by reading this post, I survived as well. I'm amazed I don't have the hangover from hell, actually. Maybe it just hasn't caught up with me yet.

We hung out at my eldest brother's house for a while yesterday so that we could actually enjoy one another's company before we went to the House of Angst for the family gathering, wherein my father and eldest brother could shoot daggers of hate at each other. (Actually, my brother wouldn't do that, but my father would. More on that in a minute.) That part was nice. My sister-in-law and I started hitting the wine bottle at that point. We referred to it, not as wine, but as anesthesia.

Off we went to the wicked future step-sister's (henceforth known as WFSS) house. Upon arrival, WFSS's four year old and two year old clambered all over my two cute nephews and dragged them upstairs for toy-filled party time. Let me point out that these two kids of hers...oy, they're some ugly kids. I swear to God, the youngest looks exactly like the spawn of Mr. Potato Head and a human woman. How that kid got such a doughy, blocky head, I'll never know. He was born with this giant blood blister on the side of his neck...but I digress.

I mentioned earlier that the WFSS had recently found Jesus after years of being a lunatic, drunken slut. She's passing that on to her kids, because the four year-old kept running into the living room or dining room and yelling, "Raise your hands if you love Jesus!" I think she was concerned that 75% of the people in the room weren't raising their hands.

Thank goodness the food was edible, and I have no lingering after-effects. It usually only takes 4 to 6 hours for food poisoning to set in, right?

I referred a moment ago to conflict between my dad and my brother. My dad has a tendency to neglect his own family in favor of his fiancee's family. I think it's a codependency thing--the more needy they are, the more he needs to be their knight in shining armor. Which usually occurs at the expense of my brother's kids and the plans they had with my dad, and has led to some words being exchanged between dad and brother in the last few weeks. When we rode over there with my brother and his family, we extended our, "We really should be back on the highway home by 4:00," excuse to them. On purpose. I was talking to my dad out in the front yard, when he mentioned that he knew that was why they had come with us. I said, "Of course it is. None of us want to be here." (I have Ernesto and Julio Gallo to thank for that remark.) He got all puffed up with righteous anger and said, "Then why did you even come?" I got right back up his nose and said, "Because we wanted to make you happy, okay?" He backed down after that and was actually much improved in his attitude.

Anyway, that's part of the saga of our Thanksgiving. I hope to post a picture of my two year-old nephew, Spenser, in all his pirate regalia. He's going through a bit of a phase right now.

Buy This House!

Our house is listed on the internet now. It's the fifth one down from the top, starting out, "This wonderful..."

I love how real estate people spin things. It really tickled me to click the link to see the view, which is basically of the county shop and a bunch of dump trucks. Yeah, the mountains are in the back ground and those are nice, but the county yard does not call to mind Shangri La. I think a couple of different people have looked at the place this week. Hopefully, things will pick up after Thanksgiving.

Speaking of which, we're gearing up to head to the "family" celebration tomorrow. To recap, my brothers and I, plus our respective families, got roped into going to my dad's fiancee's daughter's house. And I hate her guts. She's a total slut, but now she's evidently been born again. I want to say to her, "So you gave yourself to Jesus and now he never calls, huh?" I'm not planning on it being a good day. And I have to feel a little sorry for her. Not a one of us kids can stand her, but we're going to appease my father. It will be kind of like a harbor seal inviting a pack of orcas over for a fish feed. I'm sure it will make for some good stories--I promise to post on Friday.

You guys all have a great Thanksgiving!

Are You Trying to Make this Easier?

I have a friend here in town who I also happen to work with. We're pretty tight, particularly because we can relate to a lot of the day-to-day stuff that happens around our office.

Ever since I told this friend that we were moving, he's been a real bear. He's crabby every day, and actually confessed last week that he was grumpy because he didn't want us to leave town. (This guy is 50 years old and a local from waaay back.) And I really am flattered by that. But the thing is, this week he'll barely even speak to me. If I say something to him, he'll reply. But I don't get anything at all voluntarily.

I kind of think he's trying to distance himself in advance, so that he doesn't feel so bad when we actually do leave town. But the thing is, he's making me awfully mad at him. I understand what he's doing and why, but I don't think it's particularly fair. Any ideas as to what I can do?

I've Got Nothing Today

Guys, I've got very little to talk about today. I patrolled my usual sources for content to steal, and I came up with nothing. I couldn't find any interesting quiz results to post. I'm out of recipes for the moment. Blah...

I finally got the house cleaned. Is there anything worse than scrubbing the linoleum? Not in my world. But there I was, on hands & knees, scrubbing away at the kitchen floor. I swabbed down the shower doors (disgusting). Matt cleaned up the yard and has been monitoring the still-smoldering burn pile. By the way--that's what we do with our lawn junk in rural Idaho. Got lots of branches, leaves, wood panelling from your dining room? Set it in the backyard and light that mother on fire. I think we're ready for the realtors to start showing the house. Come on, money-grubbing investors! Bring your filthy lucre to Cascade and invest in my future!

We're heading off to house-sit for two weeks, so I know our place will stay clean. We really do hate house-sitting, but we somehow manage to get roped into it every time. It's a nice house, but there's just something about not being in your own home that makes things uncomfortable. Plus, we'll be taking care of two more dogs, Sam & Max. Sam is an unbelievably needy golden retriever, and Max is a belligerent, bullying yellow lab who can bay like the Hound of the Baskervilles, particularly at 2:30 in the morning.

On the good side of the column, we'll be paid handsomely for burning these folks' natural gas heat instead of our own firewood, drinking their wine, eating their beef, and soaking in the hot tub. That will come in handy for our upcoming holiday junket to see Matt's family in Wisconsin. We're driving. Can you think of anything more fun to do over the holidays? I mean, who wouldn't want to drive halfway across the country in the worst possible weather to hang out with your in-laws for two weeks.

Sigh...sorry. Don't mean to be such a wet blanket, but I think I'm dealing with some, "Ohmygod, I really hope this house sells PRONTO," stress. Blah. Blahblahblah. Okay, have a great week, guys. I may not get to update every day, since we don't have internet access at the other house. But I'll be checking in. Promise!

As Promised, Finally

Here is the recipe for Drunken Chicken (or Shrimp, whatever). I will freely admit it is kind of a pain in the ass to make, but it is so worth it. My suggestion is that you get all your ingredients together beforehand and have them close by as you're cooking. Pre-measure the chicken broth and Hoisin sauce, and have all your veggies and seasonings chopped up. Serve this over rice or soba noodles. You can pick soba noodles up in the refrigerated section of CostCo--two bags for $4.99 or something.

Drunken Stir Fry Chicken

1-2 lbs. boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into large bite-size pieces
(Or you can do a pound or two of shrimp, instead. Or a combination!)
2 tbs. soy sauce
2 whole eggs, beaten
1/2 c. corn starch
Salt & pepper to taste

Combine soy sauce, eggs, corn starch & salt and pepper in a medium bowl and whisk until smooth. Add chicken and stir until well-coated. Refrigerate the mixture for a half-hour to marinade.

3 tbs. peanut oil
1 tbs. sesame oil
1 tbs. fresh chopped ginger (buy it in a jar at the grocery store)
1 bunch fresh diced scallions/green onions
1 tsp. red pepper flakes (more if you like it spicy)
1/2 tbs. dried lemongrass
Juice of 2 limes (about 1/4 cup if you buy the stuff in the plastic lime)
2 tbs. brown sugar
2 tbs. rice vinegar
2 cups chicken broth
3 tbs. fish sauce
1/2 cup Hoisin sauce
1/2 cup sliced fresh mint leaves (optional)

1. Heat the peanut and sesame oil over medium-high heat. Brown the marinated chicken/shrimp in the hot oil and remove. Set aside on paper towels to drain.

2. Add another 2 tbs. oil (mix of sesame & peanut is good) and heat. Add the garlic, ginger, scallions and red pepper flakes. Stir and brown lightly.

3. Add remaining ingredients and bring to simmer. If a thicker sauce is desired, mix 1 tb. corn starch in 2 tb. water and add to the sauce. Simmer until thickened, add chicken/shrimp & heat.

4. Serve over rice or noodles, garnish with fresh mint.

What I Should Be Doing

I really ought to be cleaning up around the house right now. We've got it listed, and there's even a sign in the front yard. We didn't get that far last time.

I got up late this morning (as usual), and I basically got a slow start. Most of the house is mostly clean. Mostly. The outside of the place, though? shudder

I've never liked doing the outside work. I don't have the patience for gardening. Mowing the lawn gives me allergy problems. Snow blowing--fuggedabowdit. And yet, today we need to finish raking up the leaves in the yard and add them to the burn pile. (Oo, a conflagration!) We need to pick up all the bark left behind after splitting our winter's wood and add that to the burn pile as well. A dog-doo patrol is probably in order.

Matt is at work until 3:30 today, and I think I may boycott anything more until he gets here. I believe in equal opportunities for men and women, don't you?

See, Honor, Remember

Fallujah in Pictures is a site that has culled media and personal photos from the ongoing battle in Iraq.

The site isn't exactly work-safe, from the standpoint that it is pretty graphic and potentially upsetting. Additionally, it's nothing you'd likely want kids to see.

That said, I felt like it was important to share the link. As the site says, "look at the pictures and make up your own mind. if our cause is just then we should not fear witnessing its cost." Regardless of how you feel about the American presence in Iraq, it's important to look at the faces of those lost (on both sides of the conflict) and realize that they were very real people with real lives outside of the conflict. People loved them. They loved in return. Show them honor by acknowledging both their lives and their deaths.

Via Dee.

Move This

We got the unofficial word today--we're moving to Boise! Thanks to everyone reading who provided support and advice.

Matt's future supervisor called and confirmed that he was the only one who applied and that he was definitely wanted for the job. All that remains is for the Director's office to approve the paperwork, which should be done in the next few days.

Now the work begins: our house is already listed, we just have to tell the realtors to start marketing it aggressively. We hope we'll do well. Our town is booming and we own 1.6 acres of commercial/residential zoned property on Main Street with the 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom house. It's a great investment opportunity for someone.

My employer is actually trying to sort out a transfer for me, possibly to a very similar job with the same pay, which would be great. My dad is already driving me nuts about the move and he's only known for about 6 hours. He doesn't believe you've got a good real estate agent unless they're very cut-throat, which isn't Matt's and my style. And I have to be honest: Dad is a chauvenist who thinks that any woman still in posession of regular hormonal cycles is likely incompetent. He'd never say that to me, but it's so patently obvious sometimes. Therefore, he's pushing strongly for us to hire a particular agent and it's really obnoxious. So, I guess I should be careful what I wish for (e.g., I wish I lived closer to my family). It will all balance out eventually, I suppose.

Well, Bully for Me!

You Are From the Sun

Of all your friends, you're the shining star. You're dramatic - loving attention and the spotlight. You're a totally entertainer and the life of the party. Watch out! The Sun can be stubborn, demanding, and flirty. Overall, you're a great leader and great friend. The very best!

What Planet Are You From?

Via Sherri.

In Limbo

We didn't hear anything about the transfer today. We thought we might, since Matt's department is often very quick to fill positions. But...nada. We're trying to be patient.

In the meantime, we toured some Boise real estate today. Question for the Boise folks: do you know anyone who bought a Corey Barton Home? We looked at one of his developments today and were quite pleasantly surprised by the house you got for the price. However, I have to wonder if it's too good to be true. The guy has been in business for 10 years (according to the sales flyer) and has built over 4,000 homes so far. That's a lot. So does anyone have any feedback?

Bad Blogger!

Sorry I've been kind of bad about updating lately. I find it's kind of hard to do with company in the house. I don't really advertise to anyone in the family that I blog, since they often provide me with such good information that I can turn around and share with you all. We're taking Matt's brother to the airport this morning, and life will return to whatever semblance of normal we've come to expect.

The pee stick was positive again last night and still no temperature spike. Thanks to those who provided advice in yesterday's comments--I really appreciate it.

Last but not least, we should hear today sometime if Matt got the job in Boise. Keep your fingers crossed for us! Kevin, we kind of ruled out Kuna because of the commute. I decided that if I was going to live in the city, I might as well live smack-damn in the middle so that I don't have to drive very far to stuff. But thanks for the recommendation!

In the Meantime...

Casey, I haven't had time to type out the Drunken Shrimp recipe. In the meantime, how about a really good chicken dish?

Tequila Lime Chicken
Yield: 8

Ingredients:
3 limes, juice
1 lime, zest
3 oz. tequila
2 tb. sugar
2 tb. fresh chopped cilantro
Salt & pepper, to taste
8 pieces chicken breast, boneless, skinless

½ c. flour
1/3 c. vegetable oil
2 c. sliced mushrooms
½ onion, diced
2 c. salsa verde
1 c. heavy cream

1. Tenderize chicken between 2 slices of plastic wrap.
2. Marinate chicken in lime, tequila, sugar, cilantro mixture for 1-2 hours. Reserve marinade.
3. Coat chicken in flour.
4. Heat oil and brown chicken on both sides, set aside.
5. Saute mushrooms until brown. Add onion and sauté until brown.
6. Add the reserved marinade to the pan and reduce.
7. Add salsa and heavy cream and reduce to desired thickness.
8. Add chicken back to sauce and simmer for 3 minutes.
Serve with sauce and garnish with fresh chopped cilantro and lime wedges.

Am I? Aren't I?

This fertility business is weird. Last night's pee stick indicates that I'll be ovulating within the next 24-48 hours (woo hoo!). However, this morning's basal temperature test is still in the very low, cool temperature range. It's supposed to spike when I'm ovulating. I'm assuming that means the pee stick says it's about to happen, and the temperature says it just hasn't happened yet.

Anyone have any ideas?

The Lord's Day

Sigh...Sunday evening comes too soon, doesn't it? We've had a fairly busy weekend, since Matt's eldest brother is here visiting from New Jersey and we've wanted to show him all the fun we could pack in to his trip.

Yesterday, I cooked my infamous drunken chicken recipe, except I used shrimp this time. Mmm! After dinner, we headed up to Gold Fork Hot Springs. Saturday night is not a good time to go. We thought it would be fairly quiet--we didn't think for a minute that we'd have the place to ourselves, but we found ourselves in the middle of a huge group of people who didn't exactly show up to relax. One extended family was playing football in the larger pool, which was fine except that they were bouncing all over the place and running into people. The grandparents were both drinking beer and getting noisy in the hottest pool, and then Grandma lit up her Marlboro and chased us out of there. Classy...

Today we went down to Boise. We wanted to show Kevin the World Center for Birds of Prey, which really is a "must see" place for visitors to Boise. They breed California condors on site, which is so cool to check out. It's a great interpretive center, and while there, I got to thinking, "Hey, I've got plenty of visitor center experience..." so I hit them up for a job. They're not hiring at the moment, but I did get a volunteer application so that I could possibly get my foot in the door.

Afterwards, we headed to Columbia Village to check out houses. It's a subdivision in southeast Boise, which is a pretty good area to live in from a commute standpoint. The place appears to cost a little more than we wanted to spend, but we did pick up some good area information. At this point, we're about 95% sure that Matt will be putting in for the transfer down to Boise. His agency told him that they'd likely be able to give him a couple of months before he needed to be down there full-time, and that would give us enough time to sell our house and buy a new place. I'm hoping for a transfer of sorts from my current employer, but I think we'll be okay even if I do take a big pay cut.

Exciting stuff! And for you Boise area readers, let me know if you've got any information on real estate or agents that you'd recommend.

Blogging it Forward

I've seen this before, mainly on Erica's blog. Since she just gave me mad props (yo), I think it's now my turn to pick someone off my blogroll and tell you why they are there and what makes them readable.

First, I'd like to recommend Cupie Spew. Cupe has been on my reading list for quite a while now. I enjoy her page because she's ever so liberal and loves to get snarky about it, and because she's a fellow book lover who comes up with some good recommendations sometimes. She almost always gets me thinking, and manages to make me laugh at the same time.

Additionally, I'd like to give a shout to my pal and name-sharer, Casey, over at Just North of Nowhere. I think we have more than just names in common--heck, we even caught cold at the same time! Casey has an upbeat, take life as it comes to you attitude that I find really appealing. Plus, she's from Lousiana (Baton Rouge via New Orleans via Baton Rouge), and I love to hear about a place so different from my own home.

Anyway, check the sites out. I think you'll enjoy them. And remember to Blog it Forward!

Friday

Good morning, all! It's a foggy Friday morning here in Cascade. I might as well say it's a foggy winter/spring, considering the fog rarely lifts between November and April. Days that you can actually see the sky here in town are rare. No wonder Seasonal Affective Disorder runs rampant throughout the community.

Things are quiet on the home-front, though Matt's older brother is here visiting us from New Joisey. We're hoping to show him some of the sights, including Hell's Canyon, over the weekend.

Still making up our minds on the Boise transfer opportunity, though it looks more and more every day like we're going to go ahead and take it. Exciting to think about!

One-Eyed Monster Talk

When I say "one-eyed monster," I just want to make clear that I'm talking about the television set, mm-kay?

We've caught a couple of interesting shows the last couple of nights. I'm sort of embarassed to admit they were both on Fox, which obviously makes them reality TV. I'm not sure Fox has anything else.

Anyhoo, last night we were very caught up in The Rebel Billionaire, which is sort of like Fear Factor, The Apprentice and Survivor all rolled into one. The premise is that Sir Richard Branson, rich guy and daring adventurer extraordinaire, is going to give the presidency of his company to the winner of the show. In the meantime, the contestants are subject to ridiculously frightening physical challenges, including walking a 4-inch wide beam between two hot air balloons, which are, oh...TEN THOUSAND FEET ABOVE THE GROUND. But good news! Each contestant gets to wear a bicycling helmet. For safety, you know. Yeah, there were safety straps and such, but I really think the helmet was the best touch.

Tonight, we were engrossed with Nanny 911, a show which makes me even more sure that certain people have no business being parents. The kids on the show were absolutely satanic, and the parents had entirely given up on discipline. I was aghast. I don't know how many episodes of this I will actually be able to watch; these kids were that revolting.

So, all is saved. We now have TV programs that we'll be watching on Monday & Tuesday nights. That fills in the early week gap we had before Lost and Survivor on Wednesday and Thursday nights.

Maybe I should go outside. I've heard it's nice...

Food for Thought

I thought this was a really good piece of writing. Thanks to my friend Allison for sharing it!

As Election Demonstrated, the Time has Come for the Christian Left
By LEONARD PITTS JR.
KNIGHT RIDDER NEWSPAPERS


I have to thank Jimmy Carter for saving my sanity.

Granted, his was not a presidency one looks back on with fondness. Gas-station lines stretched forever, Iran took our people hostage, and there was disco, besides.

But Carter's ex-presidency has been exemplary. He has built homes for the poor, mediated wars, helped feed the hungry, fought disease. In so doing, Carter has obeyed a directive Jesus issued to one of his disciples.

Do you love me? He asked Simon Peter.

Peter said yes.

Feed my sheep, said Jesus.

Remembering Carter's example, his very public embrace of that command, is what has gotten me through the last week without a facial tic. Or, to put it another way: If one more person tells me "morality" guided his or her decision to vote for George W. Bush, my head's going to pop like a balloon.

Beg pardon, but one is hard-pressed to find much evidence of morality in Bush's ineptly prosecuted war, his erosion of civil rights and the loss of international credibility his policies have caused. Unless, of course, one has been quaking in one's boots at the prospect of same-sex couples making a commitment straight couples have avoided like SARS. In that case the vote probably reflects one's morality just fine.

No political tactician am I, but I think Democrats made a fundamental mistake when the Christian right rose as a political force: They watched it happen, ceded God to the GOP without resistance, without so much as a beg your pardon. Democrats, fearful of unsettling the secular West and Northeast, only shrugged as the Almighty was packed up and shipped South, where he is to this day routinely trotted out to
endorse would-be governors, senators and school board members.

Small wonder faith has come to seem inextricable from voting the straight Republican ticket.

And if you are, as I am, a Christian who remembers what Jesus told Simon Peter, it is galling to see him reduced to a GOP shill, wrapped in a flag and used as a prop to advance a conservative agenda. Which, by the way, stands the Bible on its head.

After all, the book says Jesus consorted with lepers and prostitutes. It says he talked with women - which was beneath a man of his time and place - and washed the feet of his followers.

And it tells us he said things that seemed to make no logical sense.

If someone takes your shirt, let him have your cloak as well.

If someone hits you on the right cheek, offer him the left.

Love your enemies.

This was crazy talk. There was nothing conservative about this man.

So I look at the success conservatives on the so-called Christian right have had in claiming him as their exclusive property, and I wonder, where in the heck is the Christian left? Where are the people who preach - and live - the biblical values of inclusion, service, humility, sacrifice, and why haven't they coalesced into an
alternative political force?

Instead of a movement like that, we have an old peanut farmer building houses.

You wish there were more. You wish there were Christian people shouting from the rooftops that these other people, with their small minds and niggardly spirits, do not represent all of us. And that the faith exemplified by the politics of exclusion is not the faith the rest of us celebrate, not the faith that lifts us and settles us and makes us whole.

But nobody's shouting these things. It occurs to me that maybe they're all too busy building houses for poor people. And that maybe I should be as well.

God bless you, Jimmy Carter, wherever you are.

I'm All About Sharing

I thought I'd relay a conversation I had at lunch today with two male co-workers, who are also close, personal friends of mine (described below as #1 and #2). Trust me, we talk like this all the time.

Me: Oh look, we all have Yoplait yogurt in our lunches today!
#1: Yeah, I don't know if I feel like eating mine or not.
Me: You totally should. Yogurt has live acidophilus cultures that aid your digestive tract.
#2: You need to quit going to the doctor so much.
Me: Plus, it's really good for maintaining the right bacterial balance of your vagina.
#2 (falsetto): Well then, I'll eat two!

Decisions, Decisions

We're having a really hard time deciding what to do about the possible move to Boise.

We sat down tonight and made a list of all the reasons to stay here, and all the reasons to move to the city. On the list of negatives about Boise: it is a city. There are about 1500 people in the town I currently live in. I know quite a few of them (and that's got it's upsides and downsides). I was born in a small town, and I can breathe in a small town. Heh. Sorry 'bout that.

On the list of negatives of staying here: I'd still be at my current job, and I really don't know that I want to be there the rest of my career (or even the next five years, or even the next five months). The big ski resort that's being built north of here is going to have a huge impact on the way this town develops, and I don't think it's going to be for the better.

Anyway, making the list didn't help make up our minds. As Matt said, neither decision is going to end up being 100% right or 100% wrong.

Any suggestions as to how else to decide something like this? Coin toss?

All Up in Mah Bidness

I had another doctor's appointment today. It's looking like I'll be having at least two per month until this pregnancy thing catches on. For those of you who are closely following the saga (fertility buffs that you are), neither the doctor nor I can tell if I ovulated or not. Two of the positive signs are there, but the pee tests were negative. Looks like my body is doing just fine with the Clomid and there are no signs that my ovaries are turning cystic, at least not at this point. So he upped my dose and seems fairly confident that I'll ovulate for sure this time around. Yay!

Now to get all up in someone else's bidness: have you checked out FUH2.com? It's a site where lots of folks are weighing in with their opinions on Hummers (the vehicle, pervo) and H2's. I think I need the t-shirt. The site reminds me of something Kevin did a while back--posted his own salute to the HumVee.

Run, Forrest, Run!

Sherri is a goddess. Not only did she finish the New York City Marathon, but she finished the last 22 miles limping! She said she was trucking right along when suddenly, her calf muscle blew out after 4.5 miles. A medic suggested she quit, but that's not her way. Our plucky heroine finished in 7 hours, 34 minutes.

I can't do anything but sleep for that long, though I did watch four hours of Buffy today. What??? I was an energy donor for her today and couldn't get off the couch... Yeah, that's it.

Congratulations, Sherri! Can't wait to read about it when you blog the experience!

Yawn...

Sunday morning. A very quiet Sunday morning. Matt is out elk hunting on the second-to-last day of his elk season. It would be super swell if he gets something. Several hundred pounds of meat in the freezer would be terrific. If not, well, we've still got last year's deer. I don't really mind game meat one way or the other, but I can't say I love it. Still, it's nice to not have to go buy a bunch of meat.

It's foggy and rainy outside, and my motivation reflects the weather. It's days like this when I really wish I still lived in Boise. There were always girlfriends to connect with, and if you felt like being alone and still doing something, you could always hit Barnes & Noble for the afternoon or treat yourself to the dollar theatre. The lack of girlfriends has been Cascade's biggest shortcoming. There's really no one to call and say, "You wanna come over and watch Buffy and make brownies?" (And that sounds so good right now.)

Matt and I have actually been considering moving back. There's a job opening down there that we're 99% sure he'd get--it's just a lateral transfer, but one of those things that would be good for his career in the long run. I don't know for sure what I would do. There's a possibility that my current employer would give me a transfer, though I almost certainly wouldn't be doing the same thing. I'd probably be a desk jockey of some sort, which doesn't sound all that bad at this point. Alternatively, I'm thinking of taking a sabbatical and finding something else to do for a while. Working at Barnes & Noble actually sounds really good. The money is crap, but I think we'd do well enough in the real estate transaction that our mortgage would lower and I wouldn't have to make a lot. I'm also thinking it might be fun to go to beauty school. Yeah, me. I'm debating getting into massage or possibly becoming an aesthetician and giving facials and stuff. It sounds interesting and I could be my own boss.

I don't know. Matt's opportunity doesn't close for another week or so, and we've got to talk about it some more. I can't really see a downside, other than the fact that it would be a lot of change. But I can deal with change. It's stagnancy that bugs me.

Chariots of Fire

Sherri is running in the New York City Marathon tomorrow. Can you friggin' believe that? I mean, I can believe it of her, but as for myself, I cannot even fathom the physical motivation you have to posses to do something like that. I've run a mile a couple of times and hated every step: I can't imagine running 26.2 miles. I'm so proud of her.

I had a room-mate once who was very into physical fitness. In fact, she's currently an assistant physical fitness instructor at the Idaho Peace Officer's Standards and Training Center, aka, the police academy. Anyway, she talked me into running in the Race for the Cure one year. It was a 5k, which is three point something miles. It was awful. There I was, running about as fast as paint dries, when I hear this, "Thud, clank. Thud, clank. Thud, clank." It was behind me and getting closer, but I didn't want to lose my aerodynamic streamlining by turning my head parallel to my body. (Ha.) Soon, the sound was right next to me. I looked out of the corner of my eye, and there was a one-legged woman on crutches. And she passed me.

I'm not kidding you--that woman was fit. But still...that was when I decided to hang up my running shoes. Getting passed by an amputee is a good sign that you're not cut out for the sport.

((((BLOATING))))

I went to the doctor's office yesterday for my sinus infection. They weighed me. I weigh more than I have ever weighed before. It's weird, because I had been feeling like things were firming up--my belly doesn't seem as full of jelly, and none of my clothes are fitting oddly around the thighs and whatnot.

But the scales don't lie and I wasn't wearing my "heavy shoes." I'm feeling pretty grotesque in general tonight. I ate two huge pieces of pepperoni and extra cheese pizza for dinner, with leftover birthday cheesecake for dessert.

If the general malaise and the weight worries weren't clues enough for you, I should confirm that I am surfing the crimson tide right now. That's actually good news: the doctor told me that if my monthly curse showed up, that would mean the Clomid worked. As I mentioned earlier, the pee tests and the basal temperature tests indicate that I didn't ovulate, but hell, I didn't go to medical school. What do I know? It's always possible that I peed on the stick wrong. I'm heading back to the doc's office Monday for further clarification, and likely my second Clomid prescription.

In the meantime, I could really go for a chocolate shake and fries. Why are you looking at me like that?!?! I'm just going to go have a good cry. Does this blog make me look fat?

Picture Perfect

My employer doesn't want me talking about where I work or what I do, but I'm sure it is okay for me to say that because I've been wearing a hardhat during work lately, my hair is more or less a disaster.

My typical look each day involves two pigtails at the nape of my neck with a bandana tied kerchief-style over the top. Then I can put the hardhat on and take it off without getting any hair in my eyes. Additionally, it is so not worth wearing any make-up while I'm working. I get dirty, I look like crap, nobody cares.

That said, I was coming in from work yesterday afternoon when I realized that, because it was my birthday, my driver's license was expiring. That day. A quick glance in the rear-view confirmed that not only did I look way too disgusting to have an official photo taken, but the sheriff's department probably didn't want me looking like a gang-banger with my bandana on.

The driver's license department closes at 4:00 and I blazed through the door at 3:35. One good thing about a small town is that you know everyone. Sandy, the lady working at the counter said, "Hey, happy birthday. What in the world are you wearing?" I pointed and said, "Yeah, birthday. I can't take my driver's license photo looking like this." She glanced at the clock and said, "You've got just enough time to go home and do something with it. By the way, you kind of stink." On my way out the door, I said, "Trust me, no one can tell I stink based on a driver's license picture!"

So. I made it home, put my hair in a barrette, quickly applied a coat of mascara, and made it back in time. I still look like a convict in the photo. Sigh...

Happy Give a Young Person a Super-Atomic Wedgie Day!

Dissapointed in how the presidential election results seem to be turning out? Well, blame the youth of America. Young voters preferred Kerry, but voter turnout wasn't high.

This fall, polls from the Harvard Institute of Politics, the Pew Research Center and MTV all predicted that that this would be the year that the long- ballyhooed youth vote would finally make a difference in the presidential race. The youth voter pool is immense -- 40.6 million Americans are between 18 and 29, comprising 1 in 5 eligible voters -- but it has rarely been a factor in the 32 years since 18-year-olds have been eligible to vote. Four years ago, just 37 percent of 18-24-year-olds voted.

But despite all the efforts, an Associated Press exit poll survey found that fewer than 1 in 10 voters Tuesday were 18 to 24, about the same proportion of the electorate as in 2000.

I can't judge the youth of the nation solely based on my experiences with my little brother, and having been a narcissistic youth once myself, I admit I can comprehend the apathy. But jeez! What happened to these kids? (Now that I'm thirty, I can call them kids.) Was P. Diddy's crowd all hat and no cattle?

I Neeb do Blow by Dose

God, I feel like ass on a cracker tonight. I seriously think I feel at least as bad tonight as I did last week, when whatever kind of head-cold shit this is first got ahold of me. I'm taking zinc. I'm drinking tea. Heck, I'm even using saline nasal spray, which is supposed to be the ultimate preventative against sinus infections. And yet...I think that may be what I have. *cry* I could barely taste my birthday dinner: bacon-wrapped shrimp, French fries and raspberry cheesecake.

How are you all doing with the election stuff? Matt just hollered in that Kerry is doing well in Iowa, which makes me feel slightly better. Still, my optimism is looking a mite tarnished. He's not ahead by quite the margin that I was hoping for.

We'll see. We'll see...

Vote!

I know every other blog on the planet (at least in the USA) has already told you, but I'm going to tell you again: GO VOTE!

Thanks, and have a really good day.

I'm Not Alone!

I heard back from several friends today about the election stress issues they've been having.

One friend has been doing some heavy volunteer polling work, and it sounds like she keeps right on polling, even after she falls asleep. Makes for a restless night.

Another friend said she dreamt that she dropped her absentee ballot in the mailbox and the mailbox grew teeth and ate it.

I had to do a little checking. One newspaper labels it, "Pre-Election Anxiety Disorder." You could abbreviate it as PEAD. As in, "I'm PEAD off right now!" The article describes it thusly:

Americans are in the grip of a monster case of Pre-Election Anxiety Disorder. No one is talking about voter apathy anymore, because the opposite is more likely the case. People care too much. They're losing sleep. They're having bad dreams about unfavorable tracking polls.

PEAD worsens as Election Day approaches and it's a 50-50 country and there's a war going on and people are dying and the talking heads are howling and the polls come firing at your head like fastballs. It's too close to call, too close, too close, we know the whole thing could pivot with the slightest breeze, that nothing is too trivial now, that even the slightest verbal gaffe by a candidate or his wife or one of the daughters could have a butterfly effect on world history.

Yeah, sounds about right.

I'm Pooped!

For good or for bad, Wednesday will come as something of a relief. I can't believe how stressed I'm getting about the election. I think I got something like 3 hours of sleep last night.

Every time I'd doze off, I'd start dreaming of voting, watching the results getting tallied on the news, and I think Bush showed up at my polling place.

*YAWN* I'm going to need a vacation from all this.