
I love the Colbert Report best when Stephen looks like he's just on the verge of breaking himself up.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Got a promotional birthday card from a local salon, inviting me in for a free facial. Since I was there and reclining and scrubbed clean, I also had my brows (ow! ow!) waxed. Instead of taking the bus, I walked to and from the salon, which means I got a nice workout in on my day off, too. Now I'm watching NCIS. Sigh. I love Gibbs.



Today, while playing Monopoly with my now-10-year old nephew, the subject of my birthday next weekend came up. I told him I was spending the actual day, next Sunday, on the Amtrak with my oldest friend, returning from Springfield, where we will be celebrating. I told him this because he and I went down to Springfield last June and I thought he would want to reminisce about our trip.
When the movie's main character/narrator, Precious, writes this in her class notebook, she broke my heart. As she considered her young life to this point, how far she had come under the worst circumstances imaginable, and how tragically unfair this latest turn of events was, she wasn't whining. She was defeated. That question, "Why Me?" was almost a cerebral question on her part. For all the extraordinary events she had gone through -- which I won't detail because I don't want to spoil the movie for you -- she began to cry that she had never even had a boyfriend. It broke my heart that she was still just 16, and that her wants and dreams were still so simple and so pure. She wanted a boyfriend.
I am a connoisseur of corn. When the days grow shorter and winds blow colder, there's only one corny dish I want: Andy Williams. He always sounds so smooth and controlled and easy going. His voice means the holidays to me. Since I realize it's too early for carols, I downloaded some non-Christmas-specific Andy: "Can't Get Used to Losing You," "Butterfly," "Dear Heart" and, of course, "Moon River."
Well, this puts it all in perspective for me. I just watched The Fighting Sullivans, about the brave Iowa boys who enlisted together after Pearl Harbor, served together on the same ship, and died together when the boat went down. The story of the Sullivan family and their sacrifice was the inspiration for Saving Private Ryan.
Yes, it's the 4th quarter. That time of year when those of us in advertising realize how badly our accounts have been managed all year long. There aren't enough hours left in 2009 to bill to make our retainer, which means giving money back to the client. This is a very bad situation.
I fixed my own slow-running bathtub drain last night! All I needed was this lovely Turbo Snake (just $9.99 at CVS).
I am so impressed with Carol Williams.
Paper, paper, paper! This condo is overrun with paper and stuff! Something must be done!
Last night, on the way home, I was able to shake off my blues. The reason was two-fold.People Love That You're Kind and Compassionate |
![]() You're the kind of gal who really enjoys putting other people first. You enjoy pitching in and making a difference. Your heart really goes out to anyone in need. In fact, it's difficult for you to turn your back on someone who's struggling. As long as you have friends who don't take advantage of you, your empathy is only a good thing. If there were more people in the world like you, you wouldn't feel like you have to look out for everyone. |
she needed to be fussed over a little. OK. When it comes to fussing over your baby bump, I'm your girl. However, that 20 minutes prevented me from making it to the club in time. The result is that I feel just ... blah. Fat and blah.
It's November and this month is about giving thanks, tell us a few of the musical things that you are thankful for, be it albums, shows you've seen, electronics you've bought etc. Whatever has made your musical life better in the last year.
We Were (1973). For all my classmates, HE was the main attraction, and it's easy to see why. I don't think Redford has ever looked so good. But that was part of why this movie had such an enormous impact on me. He was better looking, more talented, more popular ... and, in the final analysis, quite the scumbag. She, on the other hand, was abrasive, noisy, idiosyncratic, and, in the final analysis, happier. Barbra Streisand gave me permission. She showed by example that I could be an outsider who marched to my own drummer and still get the guy -- if only for a little while. And if he can't handle all that goes with being with ME, as I am, maybe he's not worth being with.The “Sometimes” Meme: All you have to do is finish the sentence…
Sometimes I just need: to have a quick touchpoint with my best friend.
Sometimes I want: everyone to do what I want them to do!
Sometimes I like to: just blab with my mom on the phone
Sometimes all it takes: is a walk, wearing my headphones, looking at the sky through the trees (or, now that it's fall, through the branches)
Sometimes I picture: myself in 15 or 20 years. Which Golden Girl will I be most like? Dorothy, I know.
Sometimes I wish: I had as much focus domestically as I do professionally.
Sometimes I find: times races by faster each day.
Sometimes I take: a really long look at my complexion in the magnifying mirror. At least that hard work has paid off!
Sometimes I look: for that crazy guy from the train platform who went off on me way back last March. I really hate how much space he takes up in my head.
Sometimes I hate: that things are so terribly divisive in this country. (Snarkypants' answer, and it's just right for me, too.)
Sometimes it’s nice: to just soak in the tub.
Sometimes it hurts: when I think of how much I'll miss special people in my life.
Sometimes it makes me happy: to just be grateful.
Sometimes it’s sad: that I don't feel wiser or more sophisticated by the time I'm this age.
Sometimes I listen: to Sir Paul, just to remind me of who I've been and who I am. He's the soundtrack of my life.
Sometimes I sleep: by just dozing off on the couch. Then I wake up hours later!
Sometimes I like to watch: Nancy Grace. That madwoman just cracks me up. Especially when she talks about "the twins."
Sometimes I feel: like my home is being engulfed by paper. How can this be? We're moving toward a paperless society! Will someone please tell the piles of mail on my diningroom table and the magazines on, under and beside the coffee table?
Sometimes I rant: while taking a shower.
Sometimes I never: believe I'll finish the books in my TBR pile.
Sometimes I really: get desperately sad for no real reason.
Yesterday I bought a bargain book called Diana: Unseen Archives. What a beautiful investment of $4.99!
I took my niece, she who dreams of a career in culinary arts, to Eno -- a restaurant that specializes in cheese and chocolate flights. Everything was yummy, of course, but the part I really enjoyed was chatting with her. She's 17, and very focused. She knows what she has to do to get into the right colleges for her chosen profession and is doing what's within her power in terms of ACT/SAT scores, advanced classes, etc. She has discovered something she's good at, she enjoys it, and she can make a living at it. I'm so happy for her, and hearing about her life is so exciting.![]() | She is one of two local soldiers killed yesterday at Fort Hood. |
As details continue to emerge about the carnage at Ft. Hood, it appears a pregnant Chicago woman was killed in the fray that claimed the lives of 13 soldiers Thursday.
Francheska Velez, 21, had just finished a tour in Iraq and returned to Ft. Hood three months pregnant. The Army had granted Velez, a 2006 graduate of Kelvyn Park High School, a maternity leave of abscence.
She was just weeks away from rejoining her family in Chicago.
I'm scared. Seriously. First Fort Hood. Now this. What's next? Another Oklahoma City?
My Peace Globe celebrates The Blog Blast for Peace by imagining a world without gun violence. Meanwhile the horrifying scene at Fort Hood was unfolding:
I'm frigging exhausted. It's not the work that has gotten to me. I enjoyed doing the work. It's the politics and procedures that wore me out. My boss brought a pair of freelancers in to help with the project we're presenting tomorrow, and the writer is such a douche. My boss was in meetings all day and I was left to manage him and it's just made me so tired.
There was a cat just sitting on the front porch, as though she was waiting for me to return home from work. She saw me and she dashed into the thick bushes beside the porch. I called out to her a couple times, thinking that if I got close to her I could see how healthy she was, how clean, if she let me handle her maybe I could spirit her upstairs and close her in my den until I could get her to my vet or the local animal shelter.
This week's movie topic is all about Mobsters...
I spent my extra, "fall-behind" hour with Tom Cruise as Jerry Maguire. The scene with Dorothy on the front porch, when his fingertips lightly dance over bare neck, back and shoulders ... sigh.