New Toy

*GULP*

I just bought a new laptop.

I'm still reeling. The last new laptop that I bought was in 2002 or 3. When that one died, I was lucky enough to have one of my tutoring clients come to the rescue. He owns 6 different companies and just went into his IT department and picked one out for me. His sales staff gets upgraded laptops on a regular basis and the "old" ones get sold for discount prices, but he gave me mine as a gift, which I was endlessly grateful for.

But, I couldn't very well appeal to his generosity again, since the current laptop finally started showing signs of sputtering out. I've had it for a couple of years but keep in mind that it had already lived a complete life before it came into my hands. It was a get-me-through-the-need computer and lasted longer than I'd hoped it would, so I do appreciate the help at a time when I couldn't afford anything at all.

Now, I've had the luxury of waiting, studying, and saving for the laptop that I really wanted. Something specific to my needs and abilities. Something that I see making a prolonged journey with me. Something that will not be just the bare minimum.

I'm happy with my purchase. The next step is to have our family friend/computer geek do the honors by prepping the new toy with all the bells and whistles that I use. I'm not sure when that's going to happen as he lives in southern Orange County and I'm in northern Orange County (if you don't think that's far, you should know it's about an hour's drive from tip to tip and I'm at the tip that butts up against Los Angeles County).

I've been studying my options for months now, fully aware that my laptop had started to show signs of impending doom. So, now that the new one is in the trunk of my car, I just want to get it over with. But... patience is a virtue, and I must continue to work towards the goal in a calm and deliberate way.

Just think, kids, in a few days, if all goes well, I'll be able to see you all better on my larger screen.

The Countdown

10 days.

Today was Long

Without going into too many details, I'll try to impress you with the pile of work on my desk today. I issue documents on a regular basis. Work orders, if you will. Though it's tough to really get an average quantity, I'd say it's safe to estimate that on any given day the norm might be 40 orders issued.

Today I issued 140.

I'm mentally exhausted.

I don't even want to read my emails. There are too many of them.

Update

I found the spider.

I smooshed it.

It's dead now.

A Fine How-Do-You-Do

There's a spider loose in my room.

I wouldn't mention it except that it's big. It's a big spider. It's the scurrying kind. Elongated and ergonomic. Not like the lumbering fragility of the Daddy Long-legs. This one looks ready to put up a fight. It's made two laps around the scanner, which is how I noticed it. The problem is that I have a stack of past paycheck stubs (clipped together and ready for archiving), a pad of paper, a two-hole puncher, a post-it pad, a newspaper section, a tour book of New York, and a battery operated mosquito repellent on top of the scanner.

So you see, the spider has the upper hand. The element of surprise. I'd have to clear all of those things before I got a chance to lift the scanner and all the commotion would give the little bugger plenty of heads up.

I can't just spray the shelf that it's on because those chemicals are usually not good for the plastic rating that is used for technological gadgetry. I made the mistake of using mosquito repellent once and just because I brushed up against the bed frame, part of the finish melted off. I don't want to take a chance with the scanner.

Now what?

Food Snob, Reporting for Duty

I’m amused at the responses I got about yesterday’s food intake. One poke was from an older cousin, and another from a younger friend. Both were in a mild, “Dude, that can’t be good for you” sort of spirit, but it made me wonder how well some of you know me.

In fact, my choice of ingestibles yesterday was so out of my norm that they are the very reason I found them worthy of posting. I'm not much on junk food. I only occasionally find myself in the midst of a senseless craving.

The real me:
I love real food. I prefer to cook at home and if I eat out I seek out food that is as freshly made and discernible as food as possible. This means that I either go with cold meals like subway sandwiches or I have to resort to the kinds of places I've accumulated in my repertoire over the years. Places like quality sushi or mom and pop hole-in-the-walls that serve stews, broths, soups, or hot meals that look and behave like they came off of a kitchen stove and not a freeze-dried plastic pouch. I prefer butter to margarine because it's a real food and not a chemical invented in a lab. I prefer sugar to Sweet 'n' low or Equal for the same reason. I won't eat processed cheese-food, preferring real cheddar or provolone or monterey. I'll eat a steak, occasionally, but am not the least bit enticed by a fast-food burger.

I'm overweight because I like food. Real food. So I tend to indulge in it. But I've always preferred the real thing so, thankfully, extra pounds notwithstanding, I'm actually healthier than I look. My body knows what to do with the food I put in it. The chemistry is basic, non-complex. If I ate chips and processed food as my norm, I'm sure I'd be in quite a state. Our bodies don't know what to do with synthetic chemicals so they're thrown out of whack and complications arise.

I'm lucky. Considering I'm such a big fan of food, I could really be in bad shape. But somehow and for some reason, very early on, my palate decided on the road it was going to take and it was a "cleaner" taste. It's not a holier-than-thou choice, it's just honest. Even as a kid, I didn't really take to soft drinks. Ask anyone in my family - people who’ve known me since I was a baby – what my favorite drink is and they’ll tell you it's milk. I drink milk. Yes, milk has fat. But bodies know what to do with fat and my body shows that it knows what to do with fat. So, I'm fat. I'm glad my body doesn't have to deal with high-fructose corn syrup or preservatives and additives. I can't imagine what shape I'd be in then.

Yesterday I had chips. My huarache was primarily made of beans and cabbage. The chorizo was just to flavor the beans. I refilled my water thermos three times yesterday, and then I had one glass of orange juice, a couple of hours later, one of cranberry juice (I always drink one liter of cranberry juice at the onset of a new month), and then I called it a day.

Today, I had a rice noodle and liver pho with fresh bean sprouts and basil. Washed it down with a glass of soy milk. The perfect lunch.

Now I’m home and having a glass of mandarin juice. Again, the real stuff, squeezed from our tree, not from concentrate.

For dinner, I’ll probably keep it simple and make a torta: a sandwich on a keiser type bun, but instead of mayo, it has a pureed bean base. I’ll make it a turkey sandwich and use up the last of the cabbage for that fresh crunch. Salsa adds flavor as well as lots of fresh ingredients that are nothing but good for you.

I’m pretty spoiled. A couple of weeks ago, mom and I were out running errands and seeing that they day had gotten away from us and we were not looking forward to standing in front of a stove, we made a stop at a fast-food place. The food was ok. The fries were the only thing I can say I really liked. By the end of the day, I felt like I had a brick in my stomach and it was clear to me that my system is just not tolerant of whatever the heck that was. I’m glad I have these responses to fast food because it’s a good deterrent to making these establishments a regularity.

As for chips, they are my occasional treat. My weakness is salt, so I do have to rein it in if it’s been particularly acute. But usually it’s just a passing craving, so I know I can indulge it and not re-visit this little obsession again for another few weeks. PMS is a bitch.

Three-Day Weekend: Day One

Breakfast:
V-8 (Spicy Hot) and a handful of Lay's potato chips.

Leisure:
Damages, Season 3 marathon

Lunch:
Chorizo and bean huarache (look it up) with a peach daiquiri.

Leisure:
Pop in disc 2 for continuation of Damages, Season 3 marathon.

*Reminder

Again, I remind you that if you get these posts via email, the videos included in the posts do not show up in your email version. You'll have to see the blog directly to see the videos that were posted along with the writing.

Speaking of Music...

I seem to be more often in need of some winding down at night. I've always been a night owl and struggle with ever getting anywhere near the recommended 8 hours per night. Sometimes, music will do the trick, but I have to be very careful of the selection, as the wrong choices will just serve to further entice and trigger a little musical-fest domino effect.

So, I've put together a "beddy-bye" playlist o iTunes that I resort to and which seems to be doing the trick so far.

There's the inevitable: Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata

The epitome of calm, languid serenity.

Though it's not at all really for sleeping, many years ago I developed a certain charm for Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique, specifically The March which is either the 4th or 5th movement. I can never remember which. It's silly, but that singular note from the oboe almost to the end makes me hold my breath.


But my forever favorite is Smetana's Die Moldau. I just love its clarity. Really beautiful, flowing music that depicts exactly what it sets out to: the flow of water.


On a more modern note, just thinking of Vangelis's theme to Chariots of Fire makes me smile. There's an anecdote that goes along with this that I can't pass up the chance to share. If you're family, you've probably already heard this, but bear with me. The movie was all the rage, up for tons of awards, and winning four, so off we went to see it. It was so packed that we (mom, dad, brother and I) had to split up and find seats where we could. It was the first time we had ever done that kind of thing but mom found a seat across the aisle from 10-year-old me and we sort of lost where the other two managed to run off to. Half way through the movie I heard a distinct snore. Not like a muffled snort. No, this was a dragged out snooooooore, like it was 2am on a warm summer night. I turned to look at mom and we had that look that said we'd both identified the sound. It's impossible to give someone an elbow nudge when you don't know where amidst the sea of movie goers in the theater he might be. I was mortified for the people who had to sit around him. It doesn't come up too often anymore, but we didn't let Dad live that one down for quite some time.


Lastly, though I didn't like the movie when I saw it and can't even recall what it was about now, Clint Mansell's Requiem for a Dream is one of those I can listen to over and over. It's fantastic.

Cannons and Coco

Dad's got Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture blaring on the backyard speakers.

I'd taken to the yard to get out of the warm house and sit on the cool grass under the mulberry and brush Coco. It's one of his favorite activities and as he's gotten older, he can no longer stay standing through the whole thing, so I let him lay down and brush as much of him as I can reach depending on which side he's leaning on.

It's all very dramatic. Dad's drinking orange soda on the bench swing, Cleo (the only one who's sense of urgency matches the music) is running in laps like a crazed lunatic, Coco's hair is coming out in handfuls, and cymbals and drums climb towards that crescendo that makes the fresh, early evening take on a surreal setting.

I like the contrast. I sense a trend. Maybe I'll do dishes to Beethoven's Ninth. Lends a little gravitas to the occasion.

(By the way, if you're one of the ones that gets the these post via email, I don't think the video gets transmitted. I think you actually have to click on the link to go to the blogsite.) And if you are one of the ones that gets these posts via email and I'm wrong, please let me know.

Shiny Objects

I'm finding it hard to concentrate today.

Like the dang dog in Up, I'm in the middle of something and....SQUIRREL!

Present and Accounted For

Yeah, yeah, I'm still here. I've just not yet resolved the computer issues.

I was this close to getting a new laptop and having my newly found geek work on it, when my car decided to get sick. I took it to the car hospital and found myself shelling out for the bill.

The same week, I bought plane tickets for my upcoming trip in a couple of months.

So there's been a significant amount of spending this month. I had it and was able to cover the expenses as well as having enough left over for the laptop if I really need it, but I decided to better pace myself and hold out a little bit until next month when I can calculate it into that budget instead.

We can make it. Just a couple more days and I'll have a new number to work with.

This Oughta Be Good...

I will now attempt to eat a grapefruit.

Wish me luck.

Quips From Work

I periodically clean out or archive my email in-box at work so as to keep organized. I did some of that, recently, and came across some silly emails that I had accumulated over the months. Because I have an office, I don't really get to chatter with the persons sitting around me, and for the most part, the people I'd chat with don't have their offices near mine anyway, so I have been known to resort to the odd email message once in a while just to take a mental time out.

Seeing as my typing abilities are currently limited, rather than delete those messages, I thought that sharing these senseless "outbursts" would serve to entertain while I get a keyboard that isn't defective. So, what you have here are a number of non-sequiturs that I like to throw out at my friends/co-workers now and then so as to keep the stress levels down or maybe because I just don't know how to censor myself in writing:

Monday, June 6

Subject: My head’s gonna explode.

I started the day with 11 files on my desk.

I meticulously worked through each file, resolving problems: Edit the P.O. to reflect the minimum purchase requirement; edit price on the next one; request delivery date on the third; research if item is approved on the next; etc., etc…

Slowly, I worked through them, changing, editing, cancelling, updating.

Slowly, I file them away.

Slowly, I get responses from vendors…

Slowly, I pull the files back out….

I now have the same dang 11 files on my desk, all needing some kind of update or awaiting some kind of research.

I’m going in circles here.

Every day I go through the same stinkin’ eleven files and can’t break out of that circle of activity. I was supposed to work on production today. I haven’t even looked at the production report, much less printed it out.

It’s like working on a carousel.

Tuesday, June 7

Re: And now a word from our local Art Historian

(Vendor’s email excerpt):

As long as the finish on the bottle […technical babble…] should work just fine on the bottle but may not have the best ascetic appearance.

• I’m guessing he meant “aesthetic” not “ascetic,” which means a completely different thing.
• In its truest definition, “aesthetic” is not a qualitative word. It’s not supposed to mean “beautiful”. It’s supposed to refer to an aspect of a physical description, like a building’s architecture, its façade, or its engineering. A building’s aesthetic refers to its appearance, but it can have a beautiful aesthetic as well as an unattractive one.
• Unfortunately, this word has been hijacked by the world and has been used synonymously with the word “beautiful” or “attractive” and nobody gives a crap anymore.

I do, dammit.

This concludes T.A.G.’s Art Rant for today.

Thursday, June 9

Subject: Humming along...

I was watching Big Love last night and now I have that hippy song stuck in my head: “God only knows what I’d be without youuuuuuuuu..”

I’m getting visuals of daisies and crap.

Thursday, June 9

Subject: aRGHHH

For the love of all that is holy! I ran my report this morning. It was 24 pages long. I’ve worked on the first 10 pages and [production supervisor] tells me he has [processed more] orders so it should be much smaller now.

So I refresh.

It is now 32 pages long!..... AAAAAAAAAAARgheeeeeeehhhhg!!!!

Turns out [Customer Service] entered about $100M worth of orders.

*sigh*

Ok. Page 1….

Thursday, June 23

Subject: And now for some physiological self-analysis

It’s possible that after 40 years of living on this planet and indulging in the fine elixir of life, that I’m discovering the distinct possibility of being allergic to milk.

Friday, June 24

Subject: I should just go home and start over.

I’m a god awful mess this fine morning:

• I think I brought a flea to work with me. At the slightest spike in temperature we enter flea season at the lovely T.A.G. Zoo. It appears that in her infinite generosity, Cleopatra has decided to share the wealth and gifted me one crafty little parasite.
• I usually wear one ring on my middle finger, left hand, and one ring on my ring finger, right hand. Today, I seem to be retaining water and the ring I was putting on my left hand was a bit snug so I moved it over to the ring finger. I now know that this is the equivalent of waterboarding for me. It seems my anatomy simply cannot reconcile the imbalance of a ring on a finger that I’ve never worn a ring on. Writing has become a nuisance (and I’m not even left handed) and I just can’t seem to go 2 minutes without fidgeting with it to try to adjust it. Clearly, the gods have made their case and this is yet another acute clue that marriage is not for me. I’ve finally taken the damned ring off.

Wednesday, July 6

Subject: Even Sanskrit's prettier

I usually have relatively decent writing. Today I’m having one of those days in which whatever gets down on paper looks like the frantic scribblings of the lecture hall classes of the college days.

It’s strange to watch your own fingers just (*raspberry*) right in front of you and not respond with the grace that’s in your head… “I meant to write a G… how’d that T get there?”

Friday, July 8

Re: Chair dancing, anyone?

I don’t know why this song always does it for me… the one about video dancing killing the radio star. It’s such a dorky song, but it’s catchy.

Friday, July 8

Subject: Further bulletins as events warrant

And then there’s the happy-peppy songs of Florence and the Machine. Chipper, inspirational songs about rich girls seizing the world.

Make you want to simultaneously join in and roll your eyes.

Thursday, July 15

Subject: Crud

Coffee on an empty stomach, after a week of questionable digestive health… stupid choice #1 of the day.

Feels like Luke and Darth are battling it out in there, with light sabers.

Tuesday, July 19

Subject: And now, for another episode of "What's in T.A.G.'s head"

• Dammit, I think I ate too much.
• I wonder if anyone would care if I just go barefoot for the rest of the day.
• How can we possibly need so many dang labels?
• It’s 12:42 and I’m still nursing this morning’s coffee.
• Maybe I’ll just run to the printer in my nekkid feet.
• Les Miserables tonight! Whoo hoo!
• Purchasing orders take for stinkin’ ever to issue.
• I continue to stay in my office so as to avoid a wardrobe malfunction.
• I’m not even supposed to be having coffee.

And this concludes another episode of “What’s on T.A.G.’s mind”. Stay tuned for further bulletins as events warrant.

Tuesday, July 19

Subject: Every hour, on the hour

Remember when you were in grade school?

Remember how you used to use wooden pencils?

Remember how they came with the little pink eraser at the end?

Remember how you would, inevitably, wear down the eraser long before the pencil?

Remember how you could get those funky triangular-shaped erasers that you could fit over the old eraser end?

Yeah, I need one of those right now.

Flashback

In junior high science, I became emotionally attached to the planaria in our petri dish after feeding it hard boiled egg.

Need Wins Out

'Member this? Well, the little rubber dot that was left in place of the right shift key just fell off so now all I have is this metallic plate with sensor-type lines moving through it. Sometimes it responds to my touch, and sometimes it doesn't.

Anyway, it's why I haven't been writing.

*Sigh*

Guess it's time to get that new laptop. I was in Best Buy yesterday and looked around. Everything is so bulky and shiny. I like neither. I think the only way to get a Lenovo is on line. Then I'll bring it in to Best Buy and have them transfer all my stuff and do all that "new computer set up" stuff that they do.

If anyone has any bright ideas or input on the matter, I'd appreciate it. I heard somewhere that in your bag of friends, you should always have a doctor, a lawyer, and an auto mechanic. I'd add computer geek to that list.

Today I Kicked My Boss's Ass

He had it coming.

Over the Hill... and Rolling Down the Other Side

The moment I turned 40, there was this audible click and a whirring noise that faded, at which point my warranty clearly expired and my body’s been trying to kill me ever since.

This internal agenda has been manifested in many and varied ways. Currently, I’m seeing things. Or I think I’m seeing things. Out of the right periphery of my right eye, I keep seeing what I think is dark grey smoke. Such is the convincing image that I actually jumped at one point, wondering if there was a fire on my bureau. There’s no fire. Just me and Cleo hanging out, watching Netflix.

This isn’t the first time my eyeballs trick me, but the only other time it has happened has been in the middle of one of the severest migraines I’ve had. The whole left side of my viewing plane was clouded over in a shimmery oval ring. I called my doctor and was given strict instructions to go straight to his office. I’d not really suffered from migraines in my life, but it seems my brain was gearing up for the aforementioned expiration of warranty. For a couple of years, there were a series of occasional head-explosions, though none of the severity of that infamous sight-confusing instance.

The smoke seems to have been a fluke. It’s possible I just saw a shadow of something move against my wall. Twice. In the exact same pattern and motion. And in the same place.

Whatever the case, I’m guessing I should take a cue and curl up in bed. So, I’m gonna wait until Cleo is done making her night rounds in the yard, calls me to let her in, and we are both ready to call it a day.

Time for beddy bye.

Need vs. Frivolity

The current state of my laptop:

• The dvd drive doesn't work anymore
• The four usb ports don't work
• The right shift key has popped off so when I want to capitalize, my pinkie has to fish for exactly the dot that shifts instead of the luxury of a large button
• I have gotten the blue screen of death more than once already

So, I'm entertaining the idea that it may be time to purchase a new one. However, the flat-screen that we got dad last month is only partially cherished by said giftee. He has announced that he wanted a bigger one. At which point I considered that maybe I'll buy the smaller one off of him and he can get whatever the heck size he wants.

Thus goes my current techno-dilemma of the moment.

Equal Air Time for All

I like sharks as much as the next person. I happen to be a big fan of all animals, not just the fuzzy cute ones. I'm fascinated by all species. So what's up with the umpteenth Shark Week on Discovery?

How'd these guys make it to the top of the list? I'll watch an episode or two once in a while, but shark week usually means I'm going to find an alternative default network on TV. We get it. They are not our enemy. They are not monsters. They are just acting on instinct. Message received. Thumbs up. What else ya got? Ah, yes, twenty two episodes on people feeding sharks.

This would explain the large amount of Netflix and Hulu watching I did this weekend.

Guilty Pleasures

I'm not sure how or under what circumstances, but a long time ago, mom came to acquire some flatware that's actually silver. As much as she's gung-ho about appearances and likes to go all out when entertaining, the silverware has been gathering dust in the hutch, likely because it's gone gray by now.

This morning she has brought me some polish, a couple of rags and two pieces: one flat-handled butter knife with little decoration and one slotted serving spoon, embellished all up the handle. I've since polished both and presented the results to her. She's ecstatic. She has told me that she found them at a thrift store when I was still in primary school and just never got around to keeping them up. I'm going to be looking up the pattern and the make when I get a chance. These are the kinds of things I get side-traced with. A few years ago, after doing the research for the three collections of a large museum in order to prep for their insurance, I very seriously considered getting an appraisal license. I'd gotten deep enough into the process to know what it entailed, I just never made up my mind about it.

For the time being, I'm going to be polishing silver as I prop myself in front of the TV with my latest guilty pleasure: USA network dramas. Specifically, White Collar and Suits. White Collar speaks to me because they're always going after the latest art heist or some antique from a dead dynasty. It's fun to hear them talk about the provenance and the historical context. I've been impressed with the research that must go on in the preparation of each episode, much of it being right on target except for in one instance when I argued something as being pre-renaissance and they claimed it to be renaissance. I'll let it slide since the onset of The Renaissance has long been hotly debated. As for Suits, I think I just really like the idea of intelligence paying off, whatever shape it comes in. I think TV caters too overwhelmingly to the lowest common denominator and if I can find a sharp mind that also makes me think, I'm in.

Still, I refer to them as guilty pleasures because for all the great premises that they put forth, they still have some polishing to do. As new series, they are going to have to hone their product, demanding better acting, in some cases, or steering from predictable characters, in others. The writing is surprisingly smart and even witty, but can get dismissed when it's not delivered correctly. I don't know who the directors are for either of the series, but I do think that they have promise.

At the moment, these are marginal shows. If anyone is watching them, I'd be surprised. I'm comforted, however, that dramas are still being made and have not completely stepped aside for reality shows about wealthy and inconsequential socialites.

I'll always be a fan of good story-telling.

Dear Diary...

Today I watched men lift things.

Hey, look, I work in the offices of an industrial building where the estrogen far outweighs the male population. From left to right, the offices belong to: The owner of the company, the Controller, and then me. They are the only two men in the near vicinity. The bull pen is full of women, whether from accounting, sales, customer service, or the executive assistant. There is an overabundance of hen talk on any given day.

This morning, I arrived at the office and walked onto a floor full of men. There were two that had come to install our new printer/fax/scanner, one who was there to coordinate the new toy to our intranet, our Controller was back from a week’s vacation, our resident mechanic was hauling things and our immediate supervisor was just wandering around, but he doesn’t count. Latter participant notwithstanding, there was much testosterone being strewn about. I immediately got on the phone to fellow female colleague downstairs, informed her of the abundance of burly voices and concocted a thinly veiled pretext for her to visit my office. I do believe I heard galloping.

The day was a pretty much shot to hell, the way days are when routine gets tossed out the window. It was like assembly day at a junior high. The activity was distracting and eventually put a halt to our actual work when the new machine was declared installed and then proceeded not to print, scan, or fax anything. Everyone’s systems had to be set to default to a second printer which promptly decided to jam, leaving us with no further options until we banged on, cursed it, and walked around to dilute tempers. It eventually came back to life but by then it was so late in the day that we were all pretty much just going with the flow anymore, and watching as the assembly of men slowly trickled down to one.

The last guy left with the rest of us at the close of the work day, with our brand new gadget plugged in and completely useless. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

Cry Me a River

So, I’ve been noticing these “articles” about how everyone hates Netflix now. I don’t get it. What’s the problem? I’ve had Netflix for a couple of years now and am quite the happy subscriber. The hubbub seems to be centered around the recent price increases. Seems that the initial $9.99 per month for unlimited DVDs (one at a time) and on-line streaming has been done away with and in its place you have the option of $7.99 for unlimited DVDs or unlimited streaming. Lower price, but only one or the other. If you want the combined package, you have to pay $15.98 now. Six bucks more. This is what all the fuss is about.

I’ve been on the same plan since I initially signed up. I get unlimited DVDs (3 at a time) and unlimited streaming. I was originally paying $18 and now I’m paying $24. When I got the email notice, I didn’t bat an eyelash. I read it, made a mental note to adjust my excel spreadsheet for my monthly budgeting, and then deleted the email.

I think that anyone who knows me knows that I’m not made of money. I don’t have limitless bags of cash stashed anywhere. I’m not married to some sugar daddy. I have a job that pays the bills and leaves me enough to – when carefully budgeted – inject various forms of entertainment and indulgence into my life. Let’s look at the plan that I have. I chose three DVDs at a time for one very simple reason. On Monday I watch DVD 1. On Tuesday I watch DVD 2 and return DVD 1. On Wednesday I watch DVD 3, return DVD 2. On Thursday I watch DVD 4 which starts the cycle all over again. Mathematically, I can watch one movie per day without counting Sundays (no mail service) all month.

Let’s talk round numbers. On a 30-day month, that means 30 movies, minus the four Sundays which brings us to 26. But wait. Remember, I get unlimited streaming. If I were jobless, needed no sleep or had a house full of people all on some rotating schedule to watch movies, we could argue that streaming could happen 24 hours per day. At a 30-day month, that’s 720 hours. Again, using round numbers (I’m not one to get too prickly about exacts) if we imagine that the average movie is an hour and a half, you could – technically - watch 480 movies in one month. If you add the 26 that you got on DVD, and that’s 506 movies. For 24 bucks. That’s about 4.7 cents per movie.

But I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking there’s no need to get hyperbolic about this. No one watches movies round the clock. Ok. So let’s be a little more realistic, while still being indulgent. Assuming the aforementioned 26 DVDs per month and one streamed movie per day (all 30 days), you could rack up 56 movies. That’s a whopping 42.8 cents per movie. That’s if you’re on my very frivolous $24 monthly plan. If you were less inclined, you could do similar damage on the $16 per month plan, getting DVDs less frequently and making up for it with more streaming. If you still stick to the two movies per day, you’re getting 56 movies for 28.5 cents.

By the way, I haven’t even mentioned that you could always make up the lost Sunday delivery with another streamed movie, therefore, getting your full 60 movies per month. But we’ll leave that alone.

Forty-two cents for a movie is pretty good. Last weekend I went to the movies with a friend and paid 12 bucks. No one seems to have a problem with that. Yeah, I know: Netflix doesn’t have the movies that are out NOW. You gotta pay for that with the big bucks. But I’ve had no problem waiting two months more for it to come to my home. I’ve suffered no pain or embarrassment for watching a movie after many have already seen it. And when I do go to the movie theaters, it’s still fun to do. I still factor it in for the stuff I think is worth it. So why is a six dollar increase such a catastrophe? In a whole month the entire extra spending you are doing is six dollars. You can barely get a hamburger for that. Most people spend more than that on their daily lunch.

Netflix is easily the most economically sound expense in my budget. If things get really ugly and I have to cut out the theatrical productions, the dinners out, the coffee dates with friends, or even the specialty groceries for experimental cooking days, I can still fit in the $24 for all the movies I can watch. I can still get a month’s worth of entertainment for about the cost of six gallons of gas.

I think we need to stop complaining and realize that Netflix provides a non-essential service. If this were about potable water in a third world environment, yes, I’d have a problem with price haggling. But we’re talking about the fringe benefits of a stable economy. Yes, I said stable. When you have the luxury to complain about non-essentials at these prices, you clearly have food on your table and a roof over your head. There is economic stability when you can think of entertainment. Don’t tell yourself otherwise.

I don’t think Netflix’s prices are at all unreasonable. I think the opposite is true. I think we got away with some extraordinary prices before the price increase and we should shut up and be grateful that the ride was as good as it was for a while. And now, I think we should acknowledge that $16 is an embarrassingly small amount of money to be whining about when we live in a world of $300 phones and $200 jeans. Perspective, people. Don’t lose it.

Calling All Techies

See the pretty flower? It’s lovely, innit? Mm-hm.

In April I was fiddling with my cell phone and in the spirit of April showers I put up a picture of water drops on glass as my wallpaper. That was going on 4 months ago, now. I’ve not changed said picture. I’d like to. I’d like to put up that pretty daisy.

I have absolutely no idea how to.

I’ve tried everything within my imaginative and logical thought processes, all to no avail. I’ve emailed it to myself, I’ve searched for (and found it) on my phone, I’ve attached it to my email, I’ve embedded it in an email…

What gets me is that I clearly managed to do this once before. Refer to the image of raindrops, please. I guess this would all be easier if I had one of those schmancy, latest-model gizmo phones. Mine is not a smartphone. At best, it’s somewhat clever. I can make and receive calls. I can text. I can even check my email and respond to stuff. I can perform some searches, but I usually can’t open any actual web pages. I don’t have a data plan, so even if the gadgetry allowed for it, it’s not something I’ve signed up for.

This is not a complaint. I actually don’t use my phone enough to justify the kind of bills that a data plan and smartphone would rack up. I know this because I’ve been coasting on rollover minutes for about 4 months now, with little need to bump up my monthly plan in the near future. I’m quite content with my phone. It’s low maintenance, not designed to impress anyone, serves its purpose, and keeps my bills down. It’s like me.

I just can’t seem to get the dang flower to stick to the dang screen so I can have a pretty screen to look at.

Which brings me to my next point. I know it’s not a phone problem. I’m a big girl. I can say it. I’m technologically inept. Not completely, mind you. Just have some blind spots, is all. It’s almost like I’m an informed luddite. I get it, I just don’t get all of it. As much as I’m a relatively educated woman and can dance circles around much of the basic 21^st century techno-novelties, this phone is kicking my butt. In this I have conceded victory and am ready, willing, and able to accept some form of tutorial so as to move on, for the love of God, and not be crushed by a mere piece of plastic with cyber-guts.

If you live near or around me, please come to my rescue.

"With Love, With Patience, and With Grace, She'll Make Her Way" --Natalie Merchant

Today I saw Bridesmaids with a friend. It wasn’t as funny as everyone was making it out to be. To hear all the noise, it would have me rolling in the aisles, and rolling, I was not. That’s not to say that it wasn’t funny. I did have quite the chuckle at many of the scenes, and I did very much enjoy the movie.

In general, though, I think it brought out the thought process the way moments in my life do. You all know how I over-analyze my life at the slightest jiggle. This movie made me think of the women in my life. I’ve been pretty blessed in this as in many aspects of my life.

I have the newest “acquisition” in the friend department, a client from my tutoring classes who’s interests, intelligence, and emotional generosity has transitioned her firmly into the “friend” category. Our classes evolved from structured lessons to casual conversations over coffee. Now, our weekly meetings are more social than educational and we’ve delved into activities outside of our schedule. Our friendship is all about theater productions and cultural events. We’ve discovered near identical interests and being the same age, a renewed energy for the coming decade.

Friends that I’ve made at work, both past and present, are slightly younger and keep me from taking myself too seriously. They can simultaneously share in my passion for nerdy interests, and then insist I step out of my comfort zone. These are the people I’ll lighten up and have a beer with even though I hate beer and am more of a wine girl with a big ‘ole stick up my butt. These are the women I can call up at a moment’s notice and pretty much know I can meet in half an hour. Just as single and uncommitted as I, we don’t have to check with husbands and children; we just slip on some shoes and head out the door.

Within that group is the very specific number of friends who share one particular bond. There are three of us. There used to be four. Losing one of us has been an experience that unifies us in a way few other experiences do. A second one of us has recently moved far enough away that socializing has been compromised. So the two of us that are left are holding on and reminding ourselves that we’ve been through some stuff together that no one else will ever understand. We knew someone once… You would have loved her.

Lastly, there are the cousins who double as sisters. I hate that we live so far from each other because we are finally at those ages where numbers don’t mean much anymore. All of my life, they’ve all been so much older than me that we were all going through very different stages in our lives. When I was in high school, they were getting married and having babies. When I was in college, they were dealing with mortgages and time-outs. As much as we’ve been in each other’s lives during holidays and events, for a long time it has felt like we have to start over every time we see each other. Getting caught up and getting the latest. But the babies are all grown up and some even have their own babies now. A whole generation has come along and we are still in each others’ periphery. I can see that having progressed into new chapters has the potential for a different relationship. We are all just women now. Women who have been through both difficult and blessed lives. Not only do I love them for being my family, but I actually like these women. I find them fascinating and inspiring. I respect what they’ve accomplished and am proud of their strength. I’m comforted that there has been a new effort to get back in touch and that there is more communication now.

Everyone should have someone they’ve known all their lives. It’s humbling. And everyone should have someone that challenges their status quo. It expands your life. I don’t plan on getting married, and I’ve always discouraged any friends to ever consider me for a bridesmaid. I cringe at the slightest hint of formal ceremony. But I do know that I like to look around, occasionally, and recognize the Kodak Moment of a day at the theater or sitting across from a friend at a dinner table. I think of my life as a series of really great little stories and I very much like my cast of characters.

Speak and Ye Shall be Heard

Cousin of mine emailed me and asked about the origins of the title of this blog. I'm not sure I've explained it, so I thought I'd share it with those of you who read regularly:

Nepenthe is one of my favorite stops along Hwy 1 when I do the inevitable, occasional road trip. I always make it a point to stop there before dark so as to get the views. It's a beautiful restaurant and shop that butts up against the cliffs of the pacific, with a terrace that hangs over the flora and provides some truly serene views.

But, the title I gave my blog is a direct quote from The Raven: ..."respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore".

I used to know about 7 stanzas of the long poem, now it's kind of fuzzy. But I remember that line just came to me when I was creating the blog. I wanted it to be a place of solace, comfort. A place to invite only people who were going to be sources of support and positivity. Mostly it was going to be a place to write about my favorite things: books, music, art. So I saw it as a bubble of happiness where the bad stuff could not enter. The words respite and nepenthe, coming from my all time favorite poem, and with their meaning encapsulating the ambiance so well, just seemed perfect.

As I write this, I've come to realize that more people are reading than is reflected on the little "followers" list. Most of you respond by email, only a couple of you ever really post a comment. And some of you just pick up the phone or wait till we see each other in "real life" to give me your feedback. Knowing this is a sort of mixed blessing: on the one hand it's mortifying to scramble and try to remember what I've written lately and whether anyone has taken offense to either content or my expressive [read: questionable language] style. On the other hand, I keep telling myself that if you've been invited to this little corner, it's because I've already reflected and consider you to be someone who knows me well enough to know that I'm neither perfect nor entertain any claims to be so. I've already identified you as someone that I feel safe being myself with. Thank you for that.

I'm glad you're reading.

I'm Not Kidding

I'm pretty crabby right now.

Hide the puppies.

I Need a Dartboard

I feel like throwing things. I'm taking a break from work. I've been putting out fires all day and I'm tired of problem solving other people's problems. I'm tired of fixing things I didn't break. I'd like to do MY job before the day is out.

I need to sit under the sprinklers with my dog.

Stream of Consciousness

One minute in the life of this brain:

• How does one consolidate three boxes worth of files into a one-drawer filing cabinet? I see a bonfire in my future.
  
• I should really wash that glass I used for dinner.
• Tomorrow: mani/pedi... I have no business showing up to work looking like this on Monday.
• Trying to sit through a whole episode of In Plain Sight is acutely discomforting.
• I like doing laundry. It's the folding and hanging up that's the turn-off.
• I think I should go in to work early on Monday. 6am. An extra hour to get a headstart.
• Need to get that new hammock tomorrow.
• There has to be something worth watching on TV.
  

"So, how did the lesbian handle her caulk?" - John

It's a long story but if you ever meet Dina, she tells about the adventures of caulking her bathtub with her butch lesbian neighbor really well. This is one of the many shared stories as we stood in line outside the Jon Lovitz Comedy Club last weekend.

I'd been wanting to see the show, an informal Hollywood-tabloid-type set up with Ralph Garman from KROQ's morning radio show, and Kevin Smith, of various independent films. I finally managed to draft a few friends into making the trek to the far reaches of Los Angeles with me. There was much laughing, as there ought to have been, but not nearly enough drinking, as I'm not really one to booze it up in any extreme way. What surprised me was that even the two hefty portions of vodka tonic had little effect.

Nonetheless, there was happiness to be had, and had it was. Laughing is good. I highly recommend it.

I'm going to go harass the fridge now.

Keep Reading, Ladies

This one is taken from an email that was shared at work today. I just thought it was so appropriate for my little haven, here, where books are idolized and readers are immediately considered friends:

Never Argue with a Woman

One morning, a husband returns the boat to their lakeside cottage after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap. Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take the boat out. She motors out a short distance, anchors, puts her feet up, and begins to read her book. The peace and solitude are magnificent.

Along comes a Fish and Game Warden in his boat. He pulls up alongside the woman and says, 'Good morning, Ma'am. What are you doing?'

'Reading a book,' she replies, (thinking, 'Isn't that obvious?')

'You're in a Restricted Fishing Area,' he informs her.

'I'm sorry, officer, but I'm not fishing. I'm reading.'

'Yes, but I see you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment. I'll have to take you in and write you up.'

'If you do that, I'll have to charge you with sexual assault,' says the woman.

'But I haven't even touched you,' says the Game Warden.

'That's true, but you have all the equipment… For all I know you could start at any moment.'

'Have a nice day ma'am,' and he left.

MORAL:

Never argue with a woman who reads.

It's likely she can also think.

Carmageddon

Seriously, people. Stop it.

AAAAAAARRRRRGHHHH!

A spider bit me on my boob!

This is catastrophic. It was a tiny bugger, but it did its damage quite thoroughly. This is the second spider bite in the last week. I'm guessing it's due to the sudden heat wave we've had and the scurrying to close windows and crank up the AC.

Now I've got a great big 'ole spider bite on my boob. As if I weren't already deformed enough in that department.

Yeah, I killed it, by the way.

Dragging

Once in a while, life catches up with me. I have no other way to explain it except that. I start to slow down. Sometimes it's a simple iron adjustment, as I remember to add liver to my diet and make a point to review whether I've had red meat lately. Sometimes it's not quite the simple fix and it requires a check up with doc and a med adjustment.

I'm not sure which one this is. I hope it's just the need for more iron. Tomorrow I'll stop at the grocery store for some liver and broccoli. Hopefully, that should do the trick as I get back into the swing of things.

I just spent the day completely exhausted, achy, and lethargic. I'm nowhere near ready to go back to work tomorrow. I could really use a week off, yet, the way I feel I suspect I'd need another after that. This is how I know something's off and it's time to shift the usual mode of operation.

The saving grace is that I did get some chores done today. Otherwise I'd really feel bad. I don't like me like this.

...And, So it Ends

• The dogs are appeased (actually, Coco thought the whole thing was pretty since he's gone deaf).
• The cats have yet to be dragged out from under the bed.
• My bedroom windows have been re-opened (yay for fresh air!)
• Annoying sibling has left (yay for silence and an end to negativity!)
• I've donned my bear hug pjs
• I've pinned my hair up and taken it down about 11 times this evening
• I finally decided on the next book I'll be reading
• It's too hot to sleep
• I could really use another 3 days
  

Thus Begins Our 3-Day Weekend

I have absolutely nothing noteworthy planned for the long weekend. I'm perfectly fine with that. Sitting in the yard, under the sprinklers, with a slurpy and my dog is about as elaborate a thought as I've come up with. Anything beyond that, I'll have to play by ear. I do know that extended sleeping bouts will be involved, as will some semblance of exposure to the sun, since I've become yellow over the winter.

And air conditioning. I suspect the AC will be worn to a nub by the end of the three days.

Funny Words

Balm, salve, pomade.

Having showered, I'm applying one of my 22 varieties of body lotions that I've been gifted over the years. You know the kind. The fall back basket of lotions and soaps. I haven't purchased soap in about 4 years. I'm finally down to my last bar of glycerine soap (Cool Dawn scented) and will continue with the almond cherry liquid soap I inherited at a temp assignment about 3 years ago. I was working in the offices of an industrial building and I was so enchanted with their heavy duty dispensed soap (crushed almond shells made it a scrub texture) that the lead mechanic gave me a huge dispenser refill and I've had it in my closet ever since.

The lotions are proving harder to get through. At the moment, freshly showered, I have saturated my body with Cranberry Canneberge body butter from The Body Shop. I am supple. There is no further surface area that requires moisturizing. And nary a dent in the body butter.