Say Anything

Now I know why people post something, anything just to stay in the loop. Mainly because when you don't, it just gets more difficult to schedule time for writing, musing, posting.

That sucks. I've got to work on this.

When I have time, I'll fill you in on the joys of our doggie adoption. We love Louie! How fun is it to run down the block with your two kids trying to get Louie wound up and on the chase with calls of "C'mon Louie, let's run"? Both of them laughing all the while with Louie at first in hot pursuit, then easily taking the lead (with Mommy panting hanging onto the leash swearing at her shoe choice). I love watching his easy glide as his ears drift back in the wind.



And because we are, I won't quit you blog. We're going to get through this lack of posting thing. By just posting. Something. Anything.

RABBIT RABBIT!

Good luck in November. I don't always do a RabbitRabbit post, but it's Julian's birthday month so I thought this picture was perfect. We could all use a little luck, don't you think?

This is a photo of a hand painted linocut from the artist, Sonia Romero. Her work can be found in her Etsy shop, sheridesthelion or (She rides the Lion).


Enjoy!

A Touch of Lace

 

I love best friends.

Jennifer and I have known each other - our whole lives. Well, more accurately she and her family moved into the neighborhood when we were about five years old and have been making deals over charms collections ever since.

I love her because she is the most straightforward person I know. She is also a borderline hypochondriac in the most lovable way. She calls and says "I think I might be dying." I will answer "We all are Jennifer. Do I get first pick of your jewelry?" We talk all the time - every day or so. We don't get together as often as we'd like and that's our own fault.

There were six of us - three sets of sisters who grew up playing dolls, roller skating, talking about boys, riding our bikes to the library, etc. We grew older and went our separate ways. One to California, one to Texas, one to Florida, one to Pennsylvania and two in New York - Jennifer and me. We've all stayed in touch, some better than others (she said as she looked meekly around). Thankfully Jennifer lives in Brooklyn and I in Queens and we talk all the time from work.

She never reads my blog and could not be bothered. Not because she doesn't like how I write, on the contrary. She thinks with my family's colorful history, I certainly have a good story to tell. I never tell that one. It's a long one and well where to begin? At the beginning...

The girl child was born on a hot July day. Before there was routine use of air conditioning, before people thought to seek relief in any other way but on the stoop or in front of a fan, with a little cornstarch powder on your neck. Now that was luxury. She was the seventh child born to this family and that in and of itself should have been a good sign. Her mother is fond of telling her that her hair was a strawberry blonde that people would often remark upon. That and the space between her front teeth. Mr. Burns would look at that space and say with certainty that she would be a singer. Mr. Burns is probably rolling over in his grave.

We moved to the small town where I grew up in 1963. The dates are fuzzy in my mind, but Jennifer moved there shortly thereafter. That's a long time to have such a wonderful friend.

Life's pretty good, I guess.

PS: Hey Jenn, they really like chocolate too. Just saying.

Whatever Happened to Baby G?

I saw her somewhere. She can be found spinning tunes in Central Snark on the weekend. Well not live, but that's one post. One of the co-administrators of the blog, who is her NBFF, has some really tough things happening lately and she's not posting. So all of the co-administrators of whom she counts herself one, are rising to the occasion and trying to do posts there. She's trying to whip up a post for TheSnark right now I think. Did I mention she's also serving as editor for Humor-blogs.com for the blog reviews?

It's just when Dieselpresented Humor-blogs.com reviews as something fun and easy and did he mention fun? Well she couldn't refuse. She likes writing and wanted to give it a crack. She actually does like doing the reviews.

I know she longs for those halcyon days of writing a post, rereading it, rereading it again. Thinking it to be exactly what she wanted to say at that moment in time and publishing. Then rereading and correcting a typo and rereading and well you get the picture.

The truth is it's been pretty hectic of late for her. But mostly it's all good and it's life and did we mention she might be a tad distractable by nature? She'll get her act together I'm sure and figure out the balance of it all. When she does, oh she'll be back with a vengeance.


What's that? Oh no, she's fine. She's just resting here, that's all.

Now scram.

Signed,
Baby Jane Hudson

MEET LOUIE,

the new King of Queens.


Louie became part of our family today. We don't know how we've lived without him. Okay, gotta go walk him.

Have a wonderful weekend.


PSSST: Drop by Central Snark over the weekend where you can find me spinning tunes.

UPDATE: Two weekends ago, my brother-in-law called and asked "so do you want a puppy?" He then went on to recount Louie's tale of wanderlust (or escape from a chain gang, we're not sure). My brother-in-law and SIL found him near their home where they spend weekends. They are animal lovers and of course, took chase and rescued him. Signs were hung all over the area, vets, humane society, police all contacted. They brought him to a vet to see if he had a chip imbedded with his information - nothing. They've had him for a month and would have kept him, but they are a one dog household and Hershey already rules theirs.

My reaction was of course we wanted a dog. It was Scissors that needed working on. He basically refused and I called the next day and told my BIL that we would be taking the pup. I'll spare you the details leading up to Louie's arrival except to say that Scissors really warmed to the idea. He want from complete disagreement to agitated resignation. Real progress. They brought him to our house yesterday and when Scissors walked in and Louie went and jumped up and put his little paws on his lap, it was like the scene from The Grinch That Stole Christmas - his heart grew three sizes larger that day.

Guess whose side of the bed Louie slept on last night?

How I Got My Thing Back

Where last we left off in this tale, our relaxed heroine (me) had returned from a seaside vacation with her family to be greeted by next door neighbor who has construction underway in his home.

And action!:

Yuri: Okay, so here's vut's happening vile you were gone. Zhere vere a bunch of robberies in ze neighborhood.
Me (alarmed):Oh no! What would you call a bunch?
Yuri: Zhree - zat's not important

I begged to differ but didn't at that point.

Yuri: Vut happened is zees - ze guy came and took a package from your porch and zey found it at one of the homes in the bushes. Maybe he try to use it to pretend like he's a delivery man to go up to ze houses.
Me: Gasp in horror: That was my Thing!
Yuri: Oh zat's good, I zought it was my computer, heh heh. Anyway, I talk to ze detective and he told me ze story. So you're gonna call the precinct and ask about it.
Me: I guess zat's, I mean that's what I'm going to do.

Me: Phoning Local Precinct: Hello, my name is G Lampshade. Apparently a package containing my Thing was stolen from my porch and used as a ruse to gain entrance to some homes in a string of burglaries that occurred in my neighborhood.
Desk Officer: Mam, you'll have to come down to the Precinct as how would we know that it's your Thing that you're calling about without identification?
Me: Fine, I'll be there tomorrow.

Scene 2: The heroine has decided to walk to the Precinct to inquire about her Thing. Her daughter is along for the trip as they will be going farther on to finish a book report in a local library as Yuri's construction has hit a fevered pitch. As they walk, the heroine bravely tries to assure child that she has nothing to fear going into a precinct possibly mixing it up with some perps as Mommy is here. Child replies "I think you're the one who's nervous, Mommy." Heroine mutters, "Me? Nah." she reassures daughter by clutching her hand even tighter.

They arrive at the precinct with the daughter soaking up the whole dingy atmosphere. They approach the desk officer:

Me: Hello, my name is G Lampshade. I called last night about my missing Thing that was stolen from my front porch.
Desk sergeant (in slight Russian accent): Vel, vy don't you call the post office?
Me: Because they didn't take it into evidence - the NYPD did.
Not one to be put off (after all I've watched every Law and Order series) ask, "Isn't there a detective handling this?"

The desk officer calls upstairs and immediately speaks to the detective in question. He gives my name and the detective came downstairs with full knowledge of the case. My Thing was indeed taken into custody and was being dusted for prints. The detective calls over another detective to ask where it is in the process.

Both of them then asked: "Was it of value?"
Me: "Well, uh, maybe not just yet. But perhaps in the future."
Detective 1: What did it contain?
Me: Well I'm not exactly sure. It's a thi, a work of art.

The detective took my name and number and assured me that he would get it back to me as soon as possible and I agreed to calling my Art Source to see if I could obtain another.

We leave the precinct only hearing one curse word (and that was out of an officer's mouth), seeing no perps and with a crush on the detective.

On to the library we went where after a series of unfortunate events (including but not limited to wacko parents and overzealous beginning readers) which prevented daughter from completing book report, we arrived home. Scissors is in the driveway and mentions, "the detective dropped by and left your package. It's inside."

I run inside excitedly to open THE THING! At first, I was mad that the detectives gave it back. Bear in mind that The Thing was conceived not really as art but as "a quarterly periodical in the form of an object." I forgot that last part and had in mind art when I opened my Thing:


Okay, okay so it's not as if I have to hang it on a window which is sort of annoying because maybe I would have if we had a standard size window in the house in need of a shade. Then the thought occurred (well actually not my original thought but that of the creators) that it could be hung anywhere.

We have a spot picked out in the downstairs hallway but I realize it could possibly send a negative message to Scissors' clients that his work is in need of forgiveness.

Anyway, that will only be on sunny days.

IMPARTING SPIRITUALITY OR WHY IT'S GOOD TO BE A KID ON YOM KIPPUR

It was Yom Kippur. A high stakes gambling ring had gathered in the back room of the synagogue. The game started off friendly enough but as each player was eliminated, the tension in the air grew. A guard stood firmly at the door.

The final two players were at the table. At this point, they had each taken a standing position surveying the game before them, their posture slightly stooped and leaning over the table. Spectators gathered round, elbowing their way in to get a front row view. The one player seemed intent on avenging her twin's earlier ouster; the other coolly studying the board as she tapped her pile of bills. With one more roll of the dice, victory was declared. As the winner gathered her earnings about her and picked up Park Place from the floor, a familiar voice cut through the excitement.

"Let's go Tali - services are over."

Any resemblance to a real life scenario is purely coincidental.

Hellloooooo?

Anybody home?

I'm sure I'll be back to some reasonably normal posting schedule by the secular New Year. Really, any day now. Well, there's Yom Kippur coming up.

How about after I break the fast?

You all have every right to delete me from your blogroll, but here's hoping you won't. We'll talk soon - okay?

L'Shanah Tovah!

and to all:

Rumors of my disappearance...

...have been greatly exaggerated.

What? You didn't realize that I was gone?

No, I was not stuck on the teacup ride at the boardwalk nor was I held at watershooting flowerpoint by a deranged clown or The Insane Clown Posse.

I was, however, and not necessarily in order of importance or occurrence - at the beach; collecting seashells; eating pancakes; buying walking sticks as art; eating fish and chips; drinking a latte; walking; chasing my kids; swimming in the pool; laughing; getting sunburned; crying; claiming a package containing "The Thing" from the 112 Police Precinct after it had been stolen from my front porch and used as a ruse to gain entrance to another home in order to burgle it; helping my daughter finish her summer homework; going to an art exhibit; buying school clothes/supplies; trying to put the house in order and realizing Sysophus was actually a slacker; thinking about writing a story about a cemetery groundskeeper who kept a continuous chess game going as he worked; having a latte; reading about hipsters and finding out that "berries" is the new term for benjamins/cash/clams/shekels/; daydreaming; fantasizing; riding waves; dining under the full moon looking at the ocean; playing "tag you're it" with Julian; being accused of having too much fun with Julian by Tali; making it a little joke whenever Tali would accuse me by saying "what's that? I'm busy having fun with Julian right now." Having a latte.

Taking pictures of some people that I love - well one in particular:


and two more in particular (warning: shark attack in progress:






Catch of the Day



Dropping my camera into the water. Digital Dementia. Having a latte. Basically trying to get back to a more accelerated pace to gear me up to go back to work and re-enter society. Wahhhh. Oh and missing you all.

Did you get my postcard?

Weather is here - wish you were beautiful.

XOX

PS: I have been alternately snooping about but not commenting much. I will catch up. I also see absence indeed makes the heart grow fonder as two bloggers that I am terribly fond of, Shari and Weirsdo have bestowed some lovely awards upon me. Thank you both so much. Don't think I won't make a whole post about them. You both made my day.

GIMME A BREAK

Well, okay.

And just like that - I will be on vacation until sometime after Labor Day (the American holiday that signifies the end of summer). Tomorrow is my last day of work!

On Thursday, I will take the kids to one of the towns on the Jersey Shore to give them a slice of Mommy history. Actually, I always felt cheated that we went to beaches without boardwalks when I was younger. The one we will visit has a boardwalk and the kids can get the flavor of a day at the beach mixed with pizza, cotton candy and games of chance. Oh and throw in an amusement ride or two.

I think I'm more excited than them! It will be just a day trip. The beach is quite nice there, but it's the kitsch factor that is really drawing me to visit.

We'll then head out for our annual end of summer pilgrimage to Montauk which is fast becoming a fine family tradition a couple of days later.

I'll probably be on a blog-light schedule but I will try to get around and catch up with my faves who I've missed a bit of late.

I did visit my Mom this past weekend at my brother's house. She is recuperating quite well. I did talk her out of invading Iran. Her face has healed amazingly well and her arm is coming along nicely. I was teasing her that I was going to take a picture for my blog. "You're not putting me on your blog!" Sorry Mom, too late for that. But alright, no incriminating pictures.

Enjoy the rest of your summer.

Telephone

You know getting information funneled down in a large family can sometimes prove to be very much like a game of telephone.

But firstly - thank you all for your caring words regarding my Mom. She is in the hospital and so far nothing specific is showing up in the tests (MRI/catSCAN, etc.). She is having a stress test tomorrow and all things being equal (to what, I'm not sure), she'll be going home by Thursday. She has a hairline fracture in her forearm and of course, contusions on her face and near her eye. Answers as to why this happened may not be evident.

The truth is - this is one tough woman. When she blacked out, she fell down with the impact of a boxer being knocked out and got herself up. My brother and I joked that raising ten children can do that to you. She actually never went to the hospital at that juncture because apparently in Anytown USA, volunteer ambulance corps come and check you out and leave that option up to the patient. The patient in this case is 82 and has just passed out and looks like she has gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson. My mother being stubborn as she is, called her sister to take her home instead. My sister was then called who took my mom to the hospital where she is undergoing the various tests.

By the time this information gets to me (#7) in the hyperbolic family game of telephone, she has jumped from an airlifted ambulance as she refused treatment, taking a doctor hostage in the process. Still home for a cup of tea though.

My family has a slightly warped sense of humor, but thankfully my mother can still appreciate our odd takes on life such as they are.

It's hard living far away (and having small children) as I can't just drop and run. But I will see her this weekend and she will be staying at my brother and SIL's house as she recuperates.

So thanks for your good wishes. I'll keep you posted when she invades Iran.

On parents aging and such...

I sit here alternately staring at the screen and then hopping links to other blogs. I have been so erratic about posting of late - both in timing and topic. I think back and recall there were a few pretty good posts - just about life, some pretty funny as I remember them, some not so funny.

I wasn't going to blog about this because sometimes Reality Avoidance Therapy works best for me. I'll deal with it, but in my own quiet terms. The topic today - Parents Aging.

As some of you know, I come from a large Irish Catholic family before I jumped ship to Judaism about 12 years ago. I am the seventh of ten children. My father passed away in 1989 and my mother has since lived on her own more or less (wayward sons and divorces disturbing the relative calm of what's on sale at Shop Rite).

Tonight my sister R called to tell me that my Mom had a "spell" in church this morning and went outside whereby she must have blacked out and fallen. A priest came to her aid and she was taken to a hospital whereby they treated her physical wounds and released her! Her face is badly cut and bruised and swollen which just makes me cry. This is a woman who has barely a wrinkle thanks to good genes and Oil of Olay applied religiously. That just makes me cry - her soft skin being bruised up in such a violent way.

Anyway, the big guns were called in (which is my sister Susan) and she came over and brought my mom to a hospital proper where she is indeed being held overnight for observation and some tests (CAT scans, etc) will be performed.

My mother does not live right around the corner so I cannot just hop into the car and run to the hospital. I will go tomorrow or Tuesday based upon what we find out tomorrow. I feel sad for my Mom as I see the signs of aging taking their toll. Her hearing has gotten worse and for various reasons, she has refused a hearing aide. She probably should not still be driving but she said only half jokingly when I mentioned something to her a year or so ago "they'll never take me alive!" This, as we imagined a scenario of her home being surrounded by police requesting her license over a bullhorn, which she wouldn't hear as she turned the television ever louder behind the barricaded front door.

I look forward to her quick healing and me being able to joke with her that I told her no good can come of her hanging out in church so often. We'll have a good laugh of which she'll only hear half. And we'll have a cup of tea.

Just like old times.

Absence of Malace

The last thing I remember hearing, in addition to the flight departures in the background, was "$6 please. That's $6 m'am." I must have extended my hand and paid as the yellow gate bounced up and I drove through. But what happened next was unbelievable yet expected - my car slowly but surely made the steady climb skyward as Tali waved to the people on the Airtrain.

It all seemed so matter of fact. We'd wished for such a vehicle on many an occassion when 20 extra minutes would have been welcomed, but this was really happening. We landed in time to watch some reruns of The Simpsons that Tali has been taping. Yes that's how I used my time that was given me - like magic! We zipped through the commercials and then I didn't feel too well.

So it seems my squandering of the gift of time made my stomach turn sour and for the past two days I've stayed home from work. Although I wasn't DEATHLY ill - a sick instance is a sick instance as I always joked with my mother (and did today as a matter of fact). One day - phoney; three days - doctor's note; two days - just riiight.

Today was the best because I just decided to actually rest a bit as I had caught a glimpse of myself and I didn't look well quite frankly - dark circles under eyes/skin pale. I took an extra glimpse in the mirror to see how I could recreate this look for the office tomorrow. I clicked on the television and caught the last hour of High Anxiety which warmed me right up into 70's mode for Paul Newman in Slap Shot which was next. Can a day get wasted any better? Jaws wasn't on. I taped One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest for future viewing. Urged onward (or backward as the case may be), I downloaded some 70's radio gems from iTunes - Magnet and Steel (not the original version which has me pissed), Right Back Where We Started From, and Car Wash. Come on now - line dance!

I think I have sort of been coming down with this mystery malady and have felt even more underwhelmed of late. Pardon me if I haven't made my way about for a visit - nobody likes entertaining somebody who looks like the Corpse Bride. Well maybe you do.
I'll be around soon so don't forget me and leave a light on - never mind, I've got one on my head.

Stay tuned for answers to the hotly burning issues raised by my crafty post last week (this means you FirstNations)! Glue guns - hot or not? I was going to put some links up here, but I have these shows taped and I uh - what part about feeling blah don't you understand?!

Good night loves - actually I think I'll go read myself to sleep.


"I don't know what it is - I've gotta give in.
High Anxiety - xiety - You wiiin!"

That was some party!

Diesel's book release party that is. Time to get on with life here at Simply Said. You did go buy his book, right?

It's hard to keep up with blogging. Life takes over and sometimes lack of motivation trumps all. Not that I'm not motivated - just not with the written word. My zodiac symbol is a crab and sometimes I like to withdraw into my shell and so I do things like this:










or this:
I am so inspired by beauty in the form of art and interiors (and exteriors) and design. I get a couple/three (love that old saying) magazines along those lines. I have been pulling out sheets in which something catches my eye. In reading some of the design blogs on my blogroll, one or two in particular talk about creating your own "Inspiration Books" and so I started my own. It's crazy, but I spent a good part of the afternoon hours Saturday doing this as Tali designed something with her "Ello" toys nearby. Julian was at Grandma's and Scissors ~ where the heck was he? Hmmmm. Anyway, I find it soothing beyond belief.

So that's my idea of fun. What's yours?

I love this little picture showing Julian's chivalrous side as he insisted on carrying Tali's book for her into violin class this evening. Did I mention we had Julian with us because Scissor's car broke down and I had to swoop down, rescue Julian, toss Scissors my charged cell phone for him to call a tow and off to pick up Tali from camp to deliver her to violin. All done in time somehow.


Good night Irene!

ANTISOCIAL COMMENTARY RELEASE PARTY!!!

TODAY'S THE DAY!

I've called you here for an important dispatch. One so important that I thought a PressConference necessary.

You've been waiting for it without even knowing what you've been waiting for.

Diesel of Mattress Police and founder of Humor-blogs.com is publishing a book! A funny book. A witty book. A well written book. If I seem rehearsed, I'm just trying to remember what he told us to say about it. Yes, of course he told us what to say - the guy is a control freak. He has allowed for our varying levels of endorsement of his witty tomb and has even gone so far as to recommend possible posts:

"Diesel, the twisted genius behind the humor blog, MattressPolice.com, has announced the publication date for his first book! Antisocial Commentary: From the Secret Files of the Mattress Police, is a hilarious excursion through the mind of Diesel"
Twisted genius - I'll say. Who else but a twisted genius makes a tree house for his kids with a front door that opens to a 20 foot drop? Twisted genius indeed.

"You may be wondering how in hell a hack like “Diesel” gets published. Simple. The same way every other hack gets published these days: He self-published the book through Lulu.com. You know, the place that ranks just below Kinko’s as a reputable publisher?" Why the thought did cross my mind, but it all makes perfect sense now.

Okay, all of the above is meaningless, here's what's important:

BOOK TITLE: Antisocial Commentary: From the Secret Files of the Mattress Police.

WHAT IT'S ABOUT: compilation of some of his best posts, plus some original material.

The book is going to be published on 8/15, but he'll start taking “pre-orders” at MATTRESS.POLICE.COM today, 7/26. It will retail for $11.95 + S&H, but you'll be able to pre-order a signed copy for $9.95 with free shipping.

Mostly you should buy it to help pay for the mounting medical bills associated with casting his poor kid's arm from falling out of the aforementioned treehouse.

No really - you should buy it for the same reasons I plan to:

- Help support a fellow blogger bud.
- The guy really is funny and writes well.
- You can use it to even out a lopsided table (his suggestion).
- It's a summer read - you won't even have to think while you read it. Actually that's not true, but if I know Diesel, he'll be happy to do that for you too.
- Two lattes would set you back ten bucks. Diesel is like a jolt of caffeine on a quiet day, so you won't even need to drink coffee as you read his book.


Okay, the real truth is that Diesel did not pay us to do these posts, he doesn't have to. He's a mensch, and makes you want to support his efforts. His success would be our success as we'd be that happy for him. The best is that he is most certainly not a hack - he writes well, with humor, sarcasm and wit - all from his own funny (albeit twisted) view of life.

So head on over and read up more at his place. Go on, nothing to see here folks. Move along.

A Tale of Summer Boredom

Three Dog Night's "Joy to the World" played on the little transistor radio on Marnie's blanket in the yard where she sat out under the tree, painting her toenails and wondering about summer friendships. Marnie always felt that somehow her summers never quite amounted to much. The truth is in this small town, whose did? But that was Marnie's problem, she dreamed of being away from this small town, if only for a week, a month - imagine for a whole summer!

She read books in which children went to camp, learned how to ride horses, solved mysteries, even kissed boys (that she could do in this crummy town, she thought somewhat repulsively). At thirteen, she knew of girls who did just that, they were fast becoming pretty popular. Not Marnie, she was somewhere stuck between tomboy and wanting to feel a bit more girly - not too much though. Toenail polish was as far as she ventured. She found those kind of girls to be just stupid.

Sure her parents took her and her three brothers to their uncle's little cabin near Lake Silverfoot for a long weekend each summer. Once they'd even gone for a whole week! But it just smelled moldy and made Marnie feel a bit sad, even though she had fun playing in the lake with her brothers. She even made a friend or two to play with. Once there was a boy named Claude who she was playing with and remembered saying that her favorite color was brown because his was. That was two summers ago. Oh how her brothers had made fun of her for that one, she still remembered.

She continued to paint her toenails as Jobie peeked through a space between fence planks. She ignored him as she mostly did when she wanted to be alone with her thoughts. "Wanna go bike riding Marnie?"

"Not now Jobie. Maybe later" she answered without looking up, humming along to the radio.

"Roller skate?"

"I'm waiting for the 4:30 Movie to start - it's Gidget week. Maybe after supper." Marnie offered.

Jobie gladly accepted "I'll call for you later Marnie!" and with that ran to go find some of the boys to scare up a game of wiffle ball. He didn't have far to go to succeed.

Another summer of Jobie and bike riding over the bridge passed the commercial waterfront along the river and back. Could be worse, Marnie tried to convince herself unsuccessfully.

She went inside and put on Channel 7 just in time for the music to kick up and Gidget Goes Hawaiian to roll.

"Someday, I'm going to surf there" thought Marnie as she settled into her favorite movie viewing perch with her legs hanging over the overstuffed armchair. Never mind that she had barely tipped her toes in an ocean. Marnie's dreams were already intertwined with the movie.

She smiled inwardly as MoonDoggie and Gidget did the Twist on the beach.

Dis Organization Part II

Another area where it can become frustrating trying to fit the "yes I am a together and organized person" profile is navigating the password Yellow Brick Road to gain entrance to the paperless Emerald City that awaits us online.

I only have about ten such for different applications at work. I've tried to start keeping everything the same, but it doesn't always work out that way as there are also different log-in names. For instance, first initial/last name; last name/first initial; caps/no caps; space/nospace; must have 2 numbers, 1 character and one animal reference. That's not including personal life passwords for various bill paying, blogging, flickr, etc.

Today I attempted to log in to one such place. Sorry, this does not match. Okay try another combo - nope. Shall we ask your secret question? Sure.

Place where you met your husband? Simple - NY Rangers hockey game. Wrong.

Okay, more general - NYC. Nope.

Madison Square Garden! Nope.

The backseat of a car? Hah, just kidding.

I am sorry to report that as a result of this run-in, I now have no idea where I met my husband, although he seems convinced of the above so now I'm not sure if he is, in fact, my husband.

Then to add insult to injury, when they finally degrade you enough by the smarmy "Forgot your password? Just enter your email" No record. I just know there is a tech person sitting back popping nachos into his mouth saying "What's up, you again? Write it down, biatch!" The truth is that I truly have a great memory, but it seems to fail me with so many options out there. I mean if I only log in sporadically, the chances of log-in success dwindle accordingly.

Once you try to gain the next rung of the recoup the password ladder, the inevitable, "Enter code letters as they appear below" subdues you into thinking your sign-on is imminent. Imminent if you had dropped acid and are looking through a funhouse mirror as that is the mental state you'd need to be in to decipher the code. The DaVinci Code may have been easier to solve (actually that whole book was one predictable pile of..., but I digress). The caps are actually small, the small are numbers and the numbers are that reference to an animal that I mentioned earlier.

I know we are supposed to be moving towards a paperless society but until such time that we just place our eye up to the screen and gain access, I will be a slave to the password scrawled on paper somewhere. And it will get changed and it won't be written down...you follow.

Now can somebody please tell me where I met my husband?

A Ball of Twine

That's sort of how I've been feeling of late - a big ball of twine. A ball of twine which has a giant cat batting me around, in fact.

The balled up feeling is my emotions which can, you know, get the better of me at times. Although you'd never know it from the outside (unless you live with me of course). The good news is that I was home today and got to catch up on some much needed paper sorting/pocketbook cleaning (where does it all come from, I ask!) and generally trying to get my house in order. Considering the cleaning woman was here yesterday, shouldn't be too hard, right?

Ah, the cleaning woman, yes. The one who left a note addressed to my husband (as he basically works from home and is there to let her in) "Scissors, la puerta es mal." Well yes, if you consider coming unhinged mal, then yes indeed it was. She of the slippery fingers cleaning school. Not slippery as in stealing - G-d forbid, but breaking which may or may not be worse. But really, if I don't have (and have often been without) a cleaning person, life gets really out of whack! As although Scissors works from home and handles cooking - cleaning is an elusive sort of category to him. He's not a slob, but then again, he's not exactly neat.

The truth is that I am a bit of a dichotomy. I am a neat person and like everything to be in place and my home to be comfortable, yet I'm disorganized and still working on the perfect filing system and thus spend time that I could be...well, blogging, looking for a certain paper. It's maddening to say the least. The truth is that I hired a professional organizer several years back who started me off. She was also a decorator and so we got into painting and decorating and well, I did get rid of a lot. But once I'm off the beaten path, it's hard getting back on. And we never got back to my filing system! Damn her (or really me for never picking back up where we left off).

All this is to say, time to get away for the weekend and just unwind (that ball of twine again).

Hope you all have a good weekend and the sun shines upon you wherever you are.

ANALYSIS = PARALYSIS