And I'll Cry If I Want To . . .

For those of you without an invite to a fabulous holiday bash, never fear. This exchange will make you feel better . . .

http://www.27bslash6.com/matthewsparty.html

Happy New Year!

THIS AND THAT

Good Monday Morning. It's especially good since I have today and tomorrow off! I'm off to play Bingo with my mom-in-law in a bit, but thought I'd update the blog with the latest happenings.

Tim and Judy are parents again! Asher Newton has joined the family. All are healthy and happy. With three boys, I'm sure their hands are full, but their hearts are too! I tried to upload a picture of the baby too . . . but Smilebox wasn't being cooperative. He's a cutie, you'll just have to take my word for it at this point.

The kids and I enjoyed the Arizona State Fair a week ago. It is apparent from this picture the I am still struggling to figure out my cell phone camera. A fun time was had by all. They got to ride rides until they felt like throwing up, I got to eat Indian Fry Bread until I felt like throwing up.

Election Day 2008 I got up early to go vote, went to work, then after work went to the political parties with my well-connected Republican friends, Terri and Kerry. The Democrat's party at the Wyndham Hotel was packed, with a line out the door and around the block to get in, so we headed down to the Civic Plaza for Election Central. Watched some results come in. Terri ran into a friend who said that Congressman Ed Pastor was holding his party at the Matador, so we went there. I got to meet the Congressman, and he gave us each a free drink ticket. We settled on the patio across from the Wyndham and weren't there very long before Obama hit 270 electoral college votes and the Wyndham went insane. Kerry had worked earlier in the day making phone calls on behalf of John McCain, so she had tickets to the McCain bash at the Biltmore. After the Obama crowd spilled out into the street honking and chanting and cheering, it was decided that the Biltmore might be a bit depressing, so we called it a night. It was a fun time with the gals on a history making night.

Biggest Loser

So, last Monday was the start of my workplace's Biggest Loser competition. Weigh-in was depressing to say the least, but we all start somewhere.

Weigh-in weight: 212
Weigh-in body fat percentage: 44%

This morning after one week of participation, my weight on the scale? 206. I don't have one of the fancy scales that measures body fat, but hopefully that will drop along with the pounds.

The funny thing is that I thought this might be torture, but I haven't really felt all that deprived. I've eaten better, less sugar, less soda, more fruits and veggies, more water. I've been having fun with the kids, turning the exercising into a game. My boy's favorite is one we call "Gingerbread Boy" where they run and I try to catch them. I can't even get close to either of them, but told them that I'll catch them both by Christmas. They just laugh at me.

So, one week down, ten weeks and the rest of my life to go.

FLYing

I'm going to recommend the book Sink Reflections to you. It is a system of housekeeping. I purchased the book several years ago at the urging of a do-gooder friend, stuck it on my (dusty) bookshelf and never read it.

A couple of days ago, looking for something to read, to avoid the Mount Everest of laundry in the bedroom truth be told, I picked up the book. It made perfect sense to me. I stayed home yesterday (sick kid) and started putting some of the book's suggestions into place. This morning I got up, my sink is clean, my dishes are washed, Mount Everest is a speed bump. My son's scout uniform for tonight is clean, not wrinkled, and hanging neatly in his closet. Last week I had to go mining on the Mount to find it, smelly and wadded, and was embarrassed to unload him at Scouts. We actually got to play family game night last night because the kitchen table was cleaned off for the first time in recent memory.

Sink Reflections is written by a woman who calls herself the Fly Lady. She says she teaches you how to fly (finally love yourself). She makes a lot of sense to me, and has daily, weekly, and monthly tasks to complete that I am capable of completing. I could invite someone into the house without humiliation!

I am also starting to think that I am seeing part of the big picture. I'm not too exhausted to clean, I'm exhausted because my house is messy. I don't care about my house, I don't care about my clothes, why should I care about my weight and personal appearance? Why should my kids or husband care about the house? I set a terrible example. For that matter, why would they care about me? I haven't been caring about myself. It's all interconnected. Change is scary, but here I go . . .

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BECCA!

FROM YOUR FRIENDS AT SERRANO'S (AND YOUR FRIEND KAREN, TOO!)

"Promise me you'll always remember: you're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."

Christopher Robin to Winnie the Pooh

Accountability

Took the kids to San Diego last week. Just got the pictures from the waterproof camera back from Walmart. Going to have to be a little more than "half-tempted" to lose some weight.

I look at friends and family who are overweight and most of them are struggling with Type 2 Diabetes. Is this what I want for my future? I recognize that I eat due to stress, but does the food I cram in my mouth do anything to banish or lessen the stress, or does it just create more stress over my health and my self image?

Ad-man called me a couple of weeks ago and invited me to a pool party. What, am I going as a beach ball? No, I stayed home, and if I had been thinner I would have gone and enjoyed myself. How sad has it gotten when I won't participate in social activities, and won't even wear shorts or a bathing suit because I'm ashamed.

So while this blog did not begin as a way to hold myself accountable, I think I will use it that way for a while. Do me a favor . . . if we're going out to eat, and I order crap, give me the raised eyebrows, would ya?

Friends, Lovers, and the Occasional Mormon

• OK, I like bullet points. It makes it easier to focus on one topic per bullet. And with my brain in the jumble it's been in lately, I need all the help I can get.
• I read stranger's blogs. Just the ones with interesting titles. Blogger.com scrolls the blogs updated minute by minute, and if I see one with an interesting title, I click on it. What I've found is that there are a lot of commercial advertising blogs, a lot of foreigners blogging who cannot form a coherent thought in English (but don't think me judgemental, we all know I don't maintain a Mandarin Chinese blog), and there are a lot of people who are WAYYYY too into matching outfits for their kids for every occasion and outing. Don't believe me? Check out mylifeinsippycups.blogspot.com.
• Judy's midlife pregnancy (bet she hates me calling it that) is perking along. I was a touch concerned because I hadn't heard from her in a while. But we spoke the other day and she's just big and hot and busy. I'm still very grateful it's her, not me.
• Ever Google old friends/enemies/lovers names? If you said no, I'm betting you're a liar. Ever contact any of them? My friend Terri and I had a discussion about this on the way back from a wedding in Tucson. She seemed to think it strange that I would like to know how some of these people are. I'm not sure why she thinks it's strange. I mean, I liked them well enough to . . . well, you know. And for the most part, I still like them. For the most part, they are smart and funny people (who at one time in their lives had EXCELLENT taste in women). I'd love to hear that they are well and happy. And the enemies? Well hopefully there aren't too many out there, but they're fun to hear about too. There is one woman who I could not stand and now I read her husband's blog regularly. (No, I did not find it randomly. It was supplied to me.) I even comment on the blog from time to time. I'm sure she would HATE it if she knew, that's part of the joy of reading it. But I also enjoy his observations, and I have some pity for him being married to her. I'd give you the blog address, but I fear exposure and being banned.
• Tim Russert is still dead. SUCH a BUMMER.
• I went to see the Incredible Hulk. I love Edward Norton. I just rented Death to Smoochie, and now I think I have seen every Edward Norton movie except Frieda, which I just can't bring myself to watch because Salma's eyebrows are grown together into the unibrow, and how can anyone give Edward all the attention his role deserves while she's parading around with the freakshow eyebrow? Yes, I know it's how Frieda looked. SO WHAT. I just can't get past it. I was going to name for you my FAVORITE Edward Norton movie, but I couldn't choose. How about top four? The Painted Veil, Primal Fear, Fight Club, and American History X. Yes, yes, I know. How can I get past the swastika when I can't get past the unibrow? Well he sought redemption in American History X. If Frieda would PLUCK or WAX at the end of the movie, perhaps I wouldn't have such a problem watching it.
• Living where I do, I feel somewhat immersed in Mormon culture. Not Mormon religion so much, but Mormon culture, if that makes sense. They crack me up. One of the gals I know has a blog where she asked her friends to share their favorite memory about her, and she would tell her favorite memory about them in return. One of the memories that was listed said "there wasn't enough food, and DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT YOU SAID?!" If that sentence had been said aloud you would be able to hear the sharp intake of breath and a nervous giggle. Do you know what the forbidden phrase was that she uttered? HOLY CRAP! All the purity in the upbringing makes for some interesting personality types. I was going to say especially in the men, but there are some pretty interesting women as well. Most won't go see R rated movies, but those wild edge-of-the-envelope ones that do, and are bold enough to tell you, have gone to see such outrageously filthy movies as BRAVEHEART. Puhleeze. And Holy Crap! Or as my Mormon supervisor says ALL THE TIME, "WHAT THE FREAK!" Call and tell me when you've rented Brokeback Mountain, then we'll talk about edgy.
• Another Sunday morning approaches without Tim Russert. Meet the Press will never be the same. This sucks. Holy Crap, this sucks.

Tim Russert Dead At 58

Sometimes I read through stranger's blogs after I finish typing an entry on mine. Today I came across one that was a "gratitude journal". One of the things he was grateful for today is that "there is no active hostility in the household". Well, that's something . . .

I'm depressed about the death of Tim Russert. I will seriously miss his election coverage (Florida! Florida! Florida!). You know what I think it was about Tim Russert? He loved, LOVED what he did, and it showed. How do you find that? How lucky was he? How unfair is it that someone with so much life is gone? He was a pleasure to watch and will be missed.

Just a Thought . . .

Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplacable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the not quite, the not yet, and the not at all.
Do not let the hero in your soul perish and leave only frustration for the life you deserved, but never have been able to reach.
The world you desire can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it is yours.- Ayn Rand

Random Thoughts (again)

• How difficult Mother's Day must be for women who want and are unable to have children, and for those women who have lost children.



• My lovely daughter will be dancing in the talent show at school on Wednesday night, and performing at the finale of her cheerleading class on Thursday night. Who is this child . . . where did she come from? I will say she sure is cute.



• Chief Blackcloud is off hiking the Grand Canyon with some old friends who flew into town today. I'm glad he's come as far as he has, that he can enjoy something like this. I also hope he's clipped his toenails short.



• I detest my job. Anybody know of a high-paying part-time job with low stress? So I could actually enjoy my life?



• I cleaned off my desk and found 85 unchecked PICK and POWERBALL tickets (but I don't have a problem, let me assure you . . . ) Do you think there was a single winner in the bunch? Nooooo.

• My favorite actor, Edward Norton, is starring as the Hulk in a summer blockbuster movie. Can I just admit that I'd much rather see him naked than green?



• The new Stephanie Meyer book is out. It's not the sequel to the vampire/werewolf stories, that one's due out in August. This one's called The Host, and I've already used my member discount and additional coupon to order it on line from Barnes and Nobles. Should be arriving soon. Woohoo!



• I'll be turning 41 Thursday. Or 30-11 as I like to think of it. I have no big plans, except maybe a movie or something low key with Becca. And that suits me fine.



• Swimming season is here. That means the first thing I hear every afternoon when I come home is "MOM! CAN WE GO SWIMMING?" I'm a lot more relaxed about it now that they are both good swimmers. Now I only have to worry about Crazy Daisy the Wonder Dog drowning.



• My friend Judy's mid-life pregnancy seems to be perking along well. I wish I was there to see her and help her. I don't think it's going to seem totally real to me without seeing her belly grow. I miss her.



• My son has graduated from Cub Scouts and is now in Boy Scouts. He's excited to hike and camp and get his Eagle Scout. It's been good for him in spite of my frustrations with some of the Mormons.



• Becca put a very cool bumper sticker on her blog, which I think I'll have as my new philosophy of life. Here it is.

Culture Day

The topic of race has been a big discussion lately, here in the East Valley, since Sheriff Joe has decided to come to town to do his media whoring/racial profiling/grandstanding . . . oops, I mean law enforcement. Never mind that the towns he comes to already have law enforcement of their own.

And of course, since I work for one of the above mentioned law enforcement agencies, the topic has been big. One of the gals at work thinks we should counteract Joe's evil ways with a culture day potluck. Loosely defined, everyone brings a food that reflects their ethnic heritage.

Those of you who know me know of my limited culinary skills. But I have managed to find one dish that is popular at all the potlucks that I have taken it to, broccoli salad. So when I piped up and offered to bring my famous broccoli salad to the culture day potluck, the suggestion was met with disbelieving laughter . . . "BROCCOLI IS YOUR CULTURE?!?!" I'm Scottish for heaven's sake . . . what do they want me to bring, HAGGIS?

(For those of you not of the Scottish "culture", here is what haggis is: There are many recipes, most of which have in common the following ingredients: sheep's 'pluck' (heart, liver and lungs), minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, and traditionally boiled in the animal's stomach for approximately three hours. Yum, yum!)

At any rate, this isn't what I intended to write about today, but I was reminded of this whole incident when I clicked on a link provided by my friend Ad-man. It's called http://www.stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/ and it made me laugh, so thanks to Ad-man for that. I'll keep you posted on how the culture day potluck turns out.

As Gomer Pyle Would Say . . .

Surpise, surprise, surprise!

My friend Judy up and moved to New England a few years back. Sure miss her! Lately she's been adding to my mid-life crisis, because every time she calls it seems that it's to tell me that someone is dead. It reminds me that we're getting older, our parents are getting older, people we know are struck with unbelievable tragedies. We talk of the fact that in our twenties and early thirties that we went to many weddings and bridal showers and baby showers, but now in our forties we find ourselves attending many more funerals, and we only look forward to our children being a little older to start celebrating their happy milestones.

But tonight Judy threw me for a loop. At 41 years old, with two boys aged 12 and 7, she is expecting a baby in October. Wow. She's a great mom and will do very well with another child. I hope she will have the girl she has long wanted, but even if it's another boy it will certainly be a cherished child. I am very happy for her, and positively giddy that it's her and not me, haha.

And if she calls Tuesday and tells me this is all an elaborate April Fool's Day joke, I'll kill her.

EASTER IN MESA

After many years of talking about attending the Mormon Easter Pageant, and one year even going (too late to get a seat, so we returned home), tonight my friend Bec invited me, we took a picnic dinner, and I actually saw the show!

It is a production. I'm talking about a HUGE production, a cast of a hundred or more, horses, lambs, donkeys, doves, angels, Romans, Apostles, Adam, Eve . . . everything but the kitchen sink, and had their been indoor plumbing in those days I'm pretty sure it would have been thrown in there somewhere. Ok, that sounds a little more critical than I intended. I had some gripes with the staging of the play, but it was well done, and VERY well attended. I asked one of the several missionaries who approached us after the show what he thought the attendance was, and he replied that there were TEN THOUSAND chairs set up. TEN THOUSAND, and from what I could see, every one of them was filled, and many more families had brought blankets and were sitting on the grassy lawn surrounding all the chairs.

I realized a couple of things tonight. One is that religion is intensely personal. What moves one person has little or no effect on another. Visually the pageant was gorgeous, from the set, to the costumes, the dancing . . . amazing. But spiritually, for me, it was too much. The dialogue was completely pre-recorded and the actors lip-sync throughout the play . . . one of the things that I find moving about going to church is the emotion in people's voices when they discuss their love of God. Canned soundtrack, while well enunciated and easily heard and understood, lacked all the emotion, and for me fell short of communicating the love of God that was professed.

The other thing I realized tonight is how much I enjoy the company of my friend Bec. I don't see her much since my job transfer, and we are both busy and frustrated at work. But it is her friendship, and her open and honest and pure faith that inspires me much more than any pageant drawing ten thousand or ten million could ever do. She's a fellow rock in this stream, and may her God shine all his light on her, and grant her all those dreams that she so richly deserves to come true. Thanks for the invite tonight.

The Big Sweep

Chief Blackcloud has been off work this week, starting a new commercial job on Monday. I must admit there have been some advantages to having a househusband. The kids didn't call me 25 times every afternoon asking me to take sides in their latest trivial battle, I didn't have to hassle with getting Crazy Daisy the Wonder Dog corralled before leaving home, and best of all, some of my honey-do list actually got honey-done.

The biggest project was cleaning out the junk room. The room is about 12' x 18', and when we bought the house it contained junk from the previous owner (including a homemade coffin that the previous owner used to sleep in). We had no real use for the room, so we just added to the stacks. It had gotten so bad that there was about a two foot square space to open the door, and the rest of the room was packed wall to wall about 6' high full of crap. I came home from work at noon on Friday, and Chief and I worked NON-STOP for about 6 hours. Most disgusting find? I would have said all the mouse droppings, until I came upon a used enema kit (the previous owners). We filled our longbed pickup truck, and before we're done we'll probably fill it at least two more times, but I can see large patches of the floor, and tomorrow's project is dismantling the coffin. I feel a ton lighter, and it's not just the actual physical ton of trash we took to the dump this morning.

My Oldest Friend

This is me, my daughter, and Damon, my oldest friend. Damon's parents, straight from China, opened a grocery market in our little town, and his mom claims that my mom was her first American friend. Damon and I were three years old. My mom invited them for dinner and cooked "Chinese food" for them. As Damon's mom says, it was 'not so good.' I think Damon's mom was happier when my mom stuck to enchiladas, as she had little expectation about what they should taste like.

Damon and I went from kindergarten all the way through high school together. Then he want to U of A and I went to NAU. We still kept in touch and saw each other at the holidays. I went to Tucson when he was in medical school and he showed me the cadaver that had been assigned to him. I still call him for medical advice, and even though I can hear his eyes rolling all down the long distance line, he always gives me an answer, and sometimes even phones in a prescription.

Recently he made a trip back to Arizona, and called to see if I would join him and his family for Dim Sum. My daughter said she'd like to try it too, but was a little hesitant when we arrived at a very large restaurant filled with what seemed like the entire Asian population of Arizona, and sat down at a table filled with jellyfish and chicken feet to eat. It was enjoyable to see Damon's family, and they got to laugh at me (yet again) for giving up on the chopsticks and digging in with my fork.

Often when I was a kid I felt trapped in our small town. I wanted to move, reinvent myself. But now that I'm older I appreciate that there are people who have known me all my life, that share common memories, a common sense of place, no matter how old we grow or how far apart we now live.

I love my job . . . I keep telling myself that.

So here I am again. All agitated about the job. Let's be honest. I have a good job. Yep, parts of it are not that exciting, some of it is downright dull, but overall, I have one of the coveted "plum" jobs in the department. And I think I do it pretty well. So how is this rewarded where I work? A transfer to a shithole, because HEY! YOU'RE GREAT! YOU CAN HANDLE THIS CRAP WE'RE THROWING AT YOU!!

I told myself that whatever happens is ok, it all pays the bills, that I wasn't going to cry about it, but here I am. I know my job, I like my job, my friends are at my job, I AM HAPPY. And they are going to reward me by making me a supervisor (with no pay increase of course . . . these are tough economic times) of a mess, where nobody wants me, and not only do they not want me, they are going to be resentful. And it's a mess with a thousand times more responsibility. Oh, and did I mention no additional pay?

Maybe it's time to look at some other goals. I could teach school and make the same or better money, and have more time with my kids. I know that isn't without it's headaches, but headaches at the current company don't seem to be in short supply either.

VACATION HOME

We have sold the old motorcycle (which apparently wasn't worthy to share garage space with the Harley) and we are buying a vacation home!

It's in the mountains. By a lake. Or in the desert. It's close to my folks. Or close to his folks. Or a long way from everybody's folks. We are in the market for a tent trailer. I'm soooo excited.