Exotic yet ordinary

A miserable confession: I have not had the chance to read much on JS&MN. I was all poised to wander into chapter three on Tuesday when...the mail came. And there they were, the first three discs of Six Feet Under: Season Five shuffled in among the bills and junk mail. EIGHT HOURS of the Fishers! In their final season! So, for the last few days, Mr. Norrell and his mischief at the Cathedral has had to wait while I got my fix. I should finish the last episode on disc three tonight, and promise to immediately turn my attention back to Jonathan Strange upon the morrow. Really.

Netflix is a wonderful and horribly addictive service. Just so you know.

Now reading Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell. All 782 pages of it. Not that I'm counting or anything.

It's the WEEKEND! And we have absolutely NO PLANS. Again. As is our custom.

I passed up the opportunity to go with Justin and little girl to see the baby calf at Grandpa Larry's... to at stay home and hang out with the ants. The ants who bullied us all last spring and summer. The ants who are now gradually marching one by one from their dishwasher safe haven to our bedroom and master bath, no doubt scouting for a summer home at the sink.

One brazen black ant wandered over to the computer desk earlier this morning. I watched it scurry over the keyboard, mousepad, and back and forth along the desk top for fifteen minutes or so, all the while trying to decide if I wanted to give it the finger of death. I didn't. In the end, I couldn't do it. Ants are really stinky when squished, and, anyway, who wants a death on their hands (literally) first thing in the morning? Besides, I'm having a rough enough time dealing with my own mortality these days, so it didn't really seem right by my twisted reckoning to take the life of another, even that of a pesky ant. I blew it off the table instead, and the ant lived to see another day.

So we now have two members of our household who are reluctant to kill insects. Fucking pacifists. Still, something must be done. And Soon. The kitchen ants seem to be building up some sort of freakish immunity to the ant spray we've been slathering them with (very reluctantly and with heavy hearts, of course). If you have any effective remedies to expell our houseguests, please let me know.

Last month, several of us met up at a swanky little Italian restaurant in Tulsa to celebrate the OTHER P-Town McBrides' anniversary. As we were all standing around in the cold afterward, deliciously full and happy and preparing to go our separate ways, we made the terrific decision to get together in March for another night out. At Kilkenny’s. Where they serve fish and chips.

About mid-March I realized no one had called about the meet-up. Dang it. Not one to just let an outing go, especially outings that involve good food (and friends), I phoned Rick to see what gives already. He directed me to Katie and the two of us decided we’d all congregate for dinner 6:30ish on Monday. Yea! I love it when a plan comes together! We called Jason and Andrea and Darrell and waited for Monday to arrive already.

So, last night, we had the good fortune of dining in the company of the knitta and Rickus, et. al. At Kilkenny's. Where they serve fish and chips. And reubens. And the Vinesgrove boxty (which is what I usually get, but, wanting to somewhat stick to the plan for a slimmer me, ordered the blackened cod with curry sauce instead). Oh, and Guinness chocolate cake, the really ooey gooey kind that is not for diet at all. Unless you're on the cheater's diet, which I suppose I've signed on to as of yesterday. Consequently, I think I consumed all my calories for the week in that one slice of chocolatey goodness. *sigh*

I was still full when I got out of bed this morning. Gah. Whoopin' it up at Kilkenny's is not exactly the way to kick start a new weight-loss plan. I'll be sure to order a bit lighter next month when we get together for comida Mexicana at Santa Fe's.

Each month my co-workers and I gather together in the first floor conference room for All Staff. It is during All Staff that we get an update from the county director, which usually includes a sampling of her mail, an update from each of the supervisors, a mandatory training segment, a wellness segment, and a guest speaker (usually for the training). This week, we had three guest speakers: a representative from Conseco Insurance who was peddling supplementary insurance policies for cancer and heart disease, a gentleman raising awareness for stroke prevention, and the area 6 nurse who was there to give our training over TB, Hepatitis, and HIV/AIDS. Great start to the day for someone who can't tolerate discussions of most medical topics, especially those involving blood, arteries, and veins. I don't even like to feel my own pulse, people, so I could only imagine how this was going to go..

The Conseco guy went first. And though his statistics on cancer and heart disease were unpleasant, I was suprisingly okay with his presentation. The presentation on stroke prevention, complete with fun visuals and a fake block of fat, was next. I had to la-la-la through a good deal of his presentation, which involved a terrific bit on clogged arteries and things that can break loose, travel to your brain, and kill you. By the time the area nurse cheerfully launched into our training on bloodborne pathogens I was clenching my folded arms to my chest and trying desparately to think of some reason to be in another part of the office. But, since I'm one of those people that can't seem to move whenever someone is giving a talk, I stayed put. I have never been so happy for the director to discuss her mail..

The morning of disease and pestilence served to refocus my attention on my goal to lose weight and be healthier before the year is out. It also helped to spend an afternoon reading articles on weight control. And wouldn't you know, there's no quick fix for this? So, this week I start the painful path to a slimmer me. I am going to take my iPod out for a walk several times a week, cut red meat out of my diet (well... maybe I'll still have the very occasional burger), drink more water, start the ol' calorie counting (again), cut sweets waaaay back, and I'm going to stop eating out so much. Er, right after our trip to Kilkenny's Monday evening, of course. Fish and chips is healthy, right?

Hooray! There's still time to put this up before Sunday draws to a close.

We were in Ponca City for a goodly chunk of the evening visiting with Justin's co-worker, Linda. She invited us over for a dinner of broccoli casserole, salad and tilapia followed by fudge brownies topped with vanilla ice cream and smothered in Hershey's chocolate for dessert. (I'm starting to notice that food plays a significant role in my outtings as an adult.)

Before we left, she presented me with a small journal to write down all the neat, adorable, fun things Maya says and does as she grows, things that I will likely forget no matter how hard I try not to. She kept a similar journal for her children and it is now one of their favorite books to read through as adults. I had every intention of doing this myself (really, I did!), but now here it is almost two years later... Well, anyway. I have a journal now and will most certainly put it to good use. Thank you, Linda.

We made it home in time to catch the last half of the Sopranos. Only, like a dummy, I didn't wander into the living room until the last five minutes or so. Holy crap was about all I could muster.. when I finally took my hand away from my mouth. And then there was no 'next on' to tease us into a frenzie before next Sunday. Hopefully, I'll be able to catch the first 55 minutes sometime this week.

And with that, another weekend has come and gone. 2444 or so to go.

I had a fantastically productive day at work today AND my co-worker switched from her contemporary country station of choice over to the "best" mix of the 80s, 90s, and today. Coincidence?

So things aren't going all that great at work right now. Turns out applications and phone calls and all manner of miscellany don't take a holiday just because I do(go figure). When I got back from visiting the McKenzies, I had a monstrously large pile of stress wedged into my inbox and several messages from clients wondering where their gosh darn food stamps were already. My list of pending applications had grown a mile long and I had reviews out the wazoo. Three days gone, people. Three days. Was that too much to ask? It's almost not worth taking any vacation time, ever. But you have to. Otherwise, you go absolutely bazonkers.

Catching up on your own casework after being out a few days is stressful enough. Toss in an extra case or six from the vacant area, an unexpected handful from my co-worker out on medical leave for a yet undetermined amount of time (but likely four to six weeks), and a neighbor who insists on listening to contemporary country all day, and the result is much crying, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. Well, okay, not really. The result is much hand wringing and quiet despair and not knowing exactly where to start.

My typical response to stress is not helpful in the slightest. I don't knuckle under or buck up or do whatever it is that regular people do when faced with adversity. Heck, no. Instead, I have a tendency to shut down and seek out anxiety-free distractions, like writing obnoxiously long emails, reading knitting blogs, or staring off into space. Anything, really, so long as it has nothing to do with the pile of stress I actually need to be tackling.

So, my apologies if I get a little snitty or whiny or if I have a few freak outs over the next several weeks. I act out in stupid ways when I'm overwhelmed.

Yeah, so that happened. I stayed up to watch Crash walk away with the win for Best Picture last night at the 78th Annual Academy Awards. And I was so hopeful about the awards this year. *sigh* I guess there's always next year.

I wish I knew how to quit you, Oscar.

We topped off the end of The Month of Me with a trip to sunny Boston for an overdue visit with the power couple. (Remember, Bridget, you said that this evens the score...)

An aside about me and travel: I love to travel. I enjoy experiencing the sights and sounds of new places, especially when accompanied by those I love the most. I've come to realize, though, that I'm not all that good at the actual, er, travel bit involved in traveling, mostly because I put things off, leave things behind, tend to not think things through so much, and on occasion go to destinations at inappropriate times of year (i.e. going to DC in mid-August and Boston in late February).

This trip, I didn't start packing for our 7:50AM flight until, oh, ten o'clock the night before. I had taken time out earlier in the day, time that could have been spent on actual packing, to bother with a list of items that needed to be taken - sweaters, pants, underthings, toiletries, camera, iPod, phones, books, gum, various chargers, etc - in an attempt to avoid the previous traveling blunder of leaving things behind. This list did not, however, include weather appropriate things like gloves, scarves and hats. I blame this oversight on my general denial of how ferkin' cold it really is up Boston way (after all, how different from Oklahoma could it really be? ha ha). Luckily, I have a husband that actually takes such things into consideration, so I did at least find those items stashed in our suitcase upon arrival. Luckier still, I have a Bridget who was kind enough to loan me a pair of her boots, a pair of thermals, and jeans to make my outtings into the big city of Boston a considerable bit warmer (she's a sweetheart like that).

It was really too cold to do much site seeing. We did walk around Harvard Square a short while one afternoon, peeked in a few incredibly old cemeteries around Boston Common as we passed, sat in on rehearsals for a burlesque show sponsored by Boink Magazine, and celebrated birthdays and our anniversary with fondue and cake.

One of the highlights of our trip was accompanying the McKenzies to see Crave and 4.48 Psychosis, Bridget's first productions at BU. And oh. my. god. were they ever phenomenal! Both pieces, written by Sarah Kane, are thought provoking, fragmented, emotionally raw and...haunting. This was the first opportunity I've had to see any of Bridget's work. She is amazingly talented, and I look forward to seeing more from her in the future.


This picture was taken Monday during the drive to Boston Common for a matinee showing of Good Night, and Good Luck. After the movie, we hiked over to Cheers for some drinks.

Thank you, Chris & Bridget, for hosting us for five days. And most especially for the pants. Oh, and for the drunken night of karaoke. We had a great great time. I love and miss you both and look forward to our next visit!

(Note to fellow SPS participants: this was actually posted Sunday evening)