March Madness makes me MAD!!!!

And by "mad" I mean CRAZY mad for NCAA basketball!!!

Yeah, I'm not really sure why I'm suddenly so obsessed with this March Madness mess. But I filled out a bracket for the first time ever this week, and as of 11:00 this morning I've been GLUED to the scores.

See, it's a bracket for my office. It's free to enter, but we get prizes every week if we are winning each week.

And I like prizes.

It's a huge deal at my office. Every time a game ends, you'll hear a round of moans mixed with shouts of joy as we all check the brackets to see our progress. Then the guys go off on all the stats and whatever, shouting it back and forth because our office is a huge open area, and the girls go look for cake in the kitchen and chat American Idol and how on EARTH Sanjaya is still on the show.

If any work gets done over the next three weeks, it will be a miracle.

But sitting here tonight with my laptop in my lap all night watching the scores (I determined this was a more efficient way to keep up with the whole thing because I can watch all four games going on simultaneously PLUS I can watch Grey's Anatomy at the same time), I discovered that even if I don't win prizes, I'm obsessed with how our rankings fluctuate after every game.

At one point today I was tied for second place. Now I'm somewhere in the middle of the pack. Towards the top of the middle. But still in the middle.

I can check everyone else's brackets, and I've already determined that this is going to be a bitter duel to the end for me and the girl who sits next to me at work. Last year, this girl had no idea what March Madness was or that the little numbers next to the team names are their rankings. What's worse is that I was the one who had to explain it to her. Last time I checked (which was five minutes ago, and again five minutes before that), she was in SECOND PLACE. Her bracket is almost exactly the same as mine, with the exception of a few teams in the first round. As the rounds progress, we will end up with the exact same picks.

It's MIND BOGGLING.

Now, to be quite honest, I actually enjoy the numbers and the statistics more than watching the games themselves. To me, this whole March Madness extravaganza will exist mostly on the computer, checking scores, stats, and bracket rankings.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the basketball, too. I will watch games later on. But for now, CBS Sportsline live game updates is where my passions lie.

I've had a minor bout with depression this evening watching the numbers on my screen tell me that Duke lost. But if Gonzaga and Xavier can pull in two wins, I'll be in good shape and ready to stare at the scores tomorrow.

C.T.

PS: This post is to reach out to all of my dude readers out there.

More thoughts on Bad Movies

I've some time to further analyze bad movies this afternoon.

1. Tara Reid is quite possibly the worst actress EVER. No exaggeration. I have just watched a computer generated monster out-act her in a really bad movie.

2. The fun part of IMDBing bad movies is that this usually leads me to more bad movies that I can inevitibly find on TV on some random station to DVR for a later date.

3. Again, ALL of the same people are in ALL of the bad movies.

4. I really like movies with alien bad guys, either computer generated or actors aliened-up. I've determined that the most common way for alien monsters to kill people is to shove some sort of sharply barbed appendage (usually a tongue) all the way through someone. It's genius, but overused.

5. When did Christian Slater become a B-list actor? I used to really like him. Now he's a leading man to Tara Reid. No good can come from that.

6. I love that on IMDB, the head shots of the really bad actors in these really bad movies are SO over the top, as though they think these headshots are what will help them make it big. If you pick one bad actor and scroll through his list of bit parts, then go back and look at his headshot, it's pretty hilarious. It's like at the moment he had his headshots made, it was before his string of bit parts in bad movies, and at that moment he was on his way to making it big. Then he was in one too many crowd shots of TV's Hercules as some sort of ancient barbarian, and it's just been downhill from there.

7. All bad movies throw in inappropriate, random, and gratuitous use of the f-word (Grandma doesn't use that particular bad word, so I won't either). It's like they think that a few randomly placed f-bombs will make their B-movie into an A-movie that will earn a theater release. Ha!

Don't get me wrong. I would practically KILL (not literatlly) to be in a bad movie. Even a LOT of bad movies. With a cheesy headshot on my IMDB page.

Love it.

C.T.

Here's my day so far

First, I woke up sicker than I was when I stayed home from work on Monday.

Second, I emailed in sick to work. The genius of this method is that I don't have to worry if I sound sick enough on a voicemail when calling in sick.

Third, I went back to bed until noon-thirty.

Fourth, I got up, drank coffee, and checked work email.

Fifth, I went to Target to buy food and more drugs for whatever might be wrong with me (illness-wise).

Sixth, I came home and took all of the drugs that the drugs told me I could take. I can't take regular cold medicine. I have to stick to the homeopathic stuff. So right now I am chock full of several varieties of Zicam and Airborne. It seems to be helping. The Zicam decongestant actually did work almost instantly, just like the box said. Genius.

Seventh, I made a grilled cheese sandwich. Yum. Why? Because I like cheese. Although I couldn't really taste it, to tell you the truth...

Now I am watching the E! True Hollywood Story of Paula Abdul. I never realized that she rarely made sense when she talked even back in the 90s. Man, she was awesome in the 90s. And she had awesome hair. She should make another CD. I would totally buy it.

Even when I don't have energy to do stuff, I hate having to be home and not doing stuff when I should be at work. I didn't rest enough on Monday. I ended up working most of the day from home. And then I went back to work yesterday.

If only I had taken the time to watch Paula Abdul's THS on Monday, maybe I would be healed today.

Ooh, Paula's story is getting into her American Idol controversy during Season 2. Gotta go!

C.T.

The bad thing about the Top 12 American Idol shows

We only get to get rid of ONE contestant each week from now on.

First, Paula. I ALWAYS know when a contestant forgets the words. It's completely obvious. Even when I don't know what the words should be, it's easy to tell when they forget them.

If it were up to me (and I'm not finished watching the show yet, but I couldn't wait until the end to make this point), these THREE people should be gone next week:

Brandon (aka I Went First and I Forgot the Words)

Haley (aka I Went Later and I Forgot the Words, too)

Sanjaya (aka I Should Have Been Kicked Off Three Weeks Ago and if I Make it One More Week the Cynical Tyrant Might Get Violent)

(I tried to upload obnoxious performance photos of each of them for dramatic and humorous affect, but Blogger won't cooperate. You should definitely be more entertained by this post than you are right now.)

Anyway, if Sanjaya makes it through to next week, I've lost all faith in the voting people of America.

C.T.

The bad thing about bad movies

They never end.

I've got a DVR full of bad movies that I watch whenever I have free time. Then I delete them. They aren't worth watching more than once, and barely even once, for that matter.

But the thing I've noticed about bad movies is that they NEVER END. They go on forever.

It's amazing to me that they (whoever these makers of bad movies are) can stretch a bad plot, a bad subplot, bad outfits, bad actors, and bad directing into these really, really long movies.

They should last, at most, 27 minutes. It shouldn't take that long to tell a bad story.

But no, they go on for like, 2 hours. They're terrible. From Minute 1 all the way through to Minute 120+.

Not that it keeps me from watching them. Nope.

At least with a good movie with good actors and good directing, if it's long it makes more sense to spend more amount of time on something that is good.

Not that I will stop spending time on bad movies. Nope.

C.T.

I learn everything I need to know about parenting from Supernanny

Granted, I don't have kids and I don't plan to have any any time soon.

But when and if they ever come, I know and understand everything I need to know to raise successful rugrats. Thanks to JoJo.

What I DON'T know or understand is the Supernanny theme song.

Dit dit do do do doo, dit dit doo do do do, dit dit do do do do, dit dit J....????

Are they saying "Jo-oohhh", like Jo's (Supernanny herself) name?

Is it "Jah-aahhhh"?

"Joy-oyyy"?

What?? That doesn't even make sense.

It's ONE word. But it's completely unintelligible.

I'm going to have to Google the lyrics. It's driving me nuts.

C.T.

UPDATE: I know you've been in suspense for the last 5 minutes while I Googled, so I won't make you wait any longer. Turns out, the theme song is an actual real song from the 80s. Apparently I'm not the first one to wonder what the hell (thanks Grandma) the Supernanny theme song is, nor am I the first to Google it.

The song is Be Good Johnny by Men at Work. And after I listened to the 30-second clip of it on iTunes, I like my interpretation of it much better. See above.

Plus, I can't quite understand why Men at Work wrote the theme for Supernanny sometime during the 80s, OR why they wrote this particular song intending for it (in the 80s) to be completely unrelated to Supernanny and a song that people would listen to all on their own. For fun.

Of course, I did stay home sick from work today and I am all hopped up on Airborne, which may or may not have been what kept me up all night wide awake and just wanting to sleep my nasty cold away but being unable to do so because I was wide-a-freakin'-awake, followed by a day on my couch of working at home (sort of) mixed with lots of episodes of Scrubs (did you know it's on quite a lot of channels all the livelong day?), and then falling asleep during Cape Fear (which makes for some interesting half-awake dreams).

So, given all of that, I may not be thinking entirely straight about JoJo's theme song.

Dit dit dit dit.

Spring Forward

My clocks and I sprang forward today. But I think it is safe to say that I will not be springing forward tomorrow.

I did a lot of yardwork this weekend. And tomorrow my body will pay for it.

But spring is here and it's yardwork season again. And no matter what else goes on in my world, right or wrong, I can find sanctuary amongst my begonias and dusty millers.

C.T.

I had the flu for like, 5 minutes today

I'm pretty sure that's what it was.

I was sitting at my desk after lunch, and I suddenly felt very nauseous. Then I was HOT. Forehead sweating. Then my ARMPITS sweating.

My mouth and throat went dry, so I sucked down a bottle of water really fast.

My head hurt. And I kept feeling more and more nauseous.

THEN I got really irritable. Just with myself. No one was around at the moment. But I think if the phone had rung at that moment I possibly would have ripped it out of the wall to shut it up.

You know, instead of answering it.

A few minutes passed and I wasn't feeling any better. I really thought THIS could be the moment I had always dreaded: the moment when I finally puked at work.

I kept sitting very still. Still sweating. I thought that if I moved towards the bathroom, that might be what makes me explode. So I HOPED (and prayed a little) that I could just sit very, very still and stare the calendar on my wall and just WISH it all away.

I sat. I tried to type something to take my mind off of it, but somehow that made me sweat more.

I sat some more.

And then after awhile, nothing happened. I stopped sweating.

It could have been a really random panic attack. Weird.

But I'm pretty sure I had a flu for like, 5 minutes. And then my flu shot kicked in and saved my life.

C.T.

The most unproductive day in the history of the world

Our email was down at work all day today. I remember working all day and being busy, but I have no idea what I did all day, or if I even got anything done.

I don't understand a working world without email.

Sure, I got on the phone, I talked to my clients. I left about a million voicemails for people today. I kept having to get up and walk all over the building to talk to people and show them things, rather than shoot them a quick email with an attachment.

I'm tired. I walked and talked a lot today.

It was pretty much the most unproductive day in the history of the world.

And tomorrow I will have about 108 jillion emails waiting for me when I get to work in the morning.

It will probably be the second most unproductive day in the history of the world.

C.T.

My Left Toe

Over the last couple of months, my big left toe is the culprit of putting FOUR holes in FOUR different socks.

Two of those holes in two of the socks happened yesterday and today. TWO DAYS IN A ROW.

It's ridiculous. And by losing one perfectly good sock, I've really lost the entire pair. I can't very well go around with just one sock on, or a mismatched pair of socks.

It's all quite perplexing to me. It's not like my big left toe has a jagged, razor-sharp toenail that would explain why it slices through my socks so often. I even gave myself a pedicure a couple of weeks ago, for the first time since I last wore flip-flops a few months ago.

I clipped, I filed, I painted the toenails. There is nothing there to cut through a sock. Just smooth, fabulous toenails.

I HATE toenails, by the way. So the fact that the big left toenail is now ripping up my socks for no good reason does not help me appreciate toenails any more than if it WAS a giant, jagged, razor-sharp blade of a toenail that was also slicing through my shoe.

I don't know what's up. But at least the weather will soon be warm enough for me to go back to flip-flops and open-toed shoes. I just can't afford to keep replacing so many socks. Because even though just one sock is getting holed, you have to buy the whole pair to get just one new sock.

Someone should open a One Sock Store. That would be genius. No one ever gets a hole in both socks at the same exact time. If you're toes are anything like my big left toe, you've probably got a drawer full of one socks, too.

Hmmm. I've got some free time these days, and I could stand to make some more money. Maybe I'll check into my genius One Sock Store idea.

Toes are dumb. This whole sock ridiculousness supports my premise that people shouldn't have toes. They are just no good.

C.T.

Unexpected Change

Today, I went to the Coke machine for my daily Coke. I brought two quarters and a dime.

I put in one quarter and the dime, but the machine kept spitting out the second quarter. And by "spitting", I mean this machine literally launches change out of the change chute and onto the floor. I always have to chase it down as it bounces all over the cement floor.

After a few chases after this quarter that the machine just would not take, I noticed that the quarter sounded different than a quarter should sound as it hits the floor. The tone was different.

I'm very perceptive.

So, I ejected the rest of my change from the machine, watching where it was launched so I could chase it down. Then I made the long walk back to my desk to get a different quarter, I returned the long walk back to the Coke machine for my daily Coke, put in the new configuration of change (which was NOT spit back out at me), then I returned to my desk once again... WITH my Coke.

I then proceeded to closely examine the reject quarter that failed to purchase a Coke for me. I wanted to determine if this particular quarter was going to prove worthless to me, or if there was a deeper source of value here that the Coke machine did not recognize.

See, I'm not entirely unfamiliar with coins. I lived in Denver for several years as a kid, and just about every year my class took a trip to the Denver Mint (as though seeing it the year before, and the year before that, and the year before THAT wasn't educational enough, or like money CHANGED so they had to show it to us AGAIN). Those trips, plus the trips we made to the Mint as a family anytime other family would visit us in Denver meant that I've spent considerable hours just looking at coins and learning a few things here and there about coins.

Don't get me wrong. I loved those trips to the Mint. We got out of class, we got to stare at money. And then we would take family, I could say random things about money and that made me look smart. But seriously, they took my class to the MInt every year as though we would learn something new. Every year it was the Mint, the Capitol, the Museum of Natural History, and the Zoo. And my friends, if there are four places in a city (or in HISTORY) that DO NOT CHANGE, it is the Mint, the Capitol, the Museum of Natural History, and the Zoo.

It's not like natural history uncovers anything new.... EVER. If you've seen that dinasaur once or twice, you've pretty much learned all you need to know about it.

The dome on the Denver capitol will ALWAYS be covered with gold, and I've sat on that Mile High step at the Capitol so many times, I can verify the claim that it's marked incorrectly. I've measured.

The zoo? Are there ever any new animals? No. We've pretty much found them all.

And the MInt? It's not like we create new money every year, or change denominations according to numbers that haven't been used much that year. 13 dollar bill? 7-cent piece? I think not. If you've seen one batch of coins travel down that conveyor belt into those big bins, you're pretty much caught up on the latest in U.S. currency.

Anyway, I digress.

Then there's last year when we gave my Mamaw a map of the United States that is specifically made to hold one quarter from each of the 50 states. It's one of those "collector" things for people who want to put 50 perfectly good quarters into a cardboard thing that means you can't use those quarters for the necessities of life.... like Cokes. I spent several hours going through all of my Mamaw's quarters (and I mean every single quarter in the HOUSE), finding the best specimen of quarter for each state, and then putting them into the map for her.

I hope we never buy her anything like that again....

Anyway, I feel that due to this vast experience with staring at coins, specifically quarters, I am somewhat of an expert on quarters. Combining this with my expert Googling skills, plus my musical ear keenly trained on pitch and intonation, I deduced that this reject quarter was made of a different material than your average quarter. And when it comes to coins, different materials affects the true value of a coin.

Upon close examination, I saw that this particular reject quarter had a Washington head (making it a Washington quarter), it was made in 1964, and it had a "D" on it, which meant it was made at the Denver Mint - a place I was very familiar with.

That last part doesn't really have any significance on the value of a quarter, it just sounds dramatic and important and makes all those years at the Mint seem finally significant.

At this point, I turned to Google. And I found that my reject quarter is somewhat unique. Quarters from 1932 to 1964 were made with silver. 90% silver, to be exact. Quarters after 1964 are made mostly of copper. Copper is much less valuable than silver, even though a quarter's monetary value is 25 cents no matter what it is made of.

BUT, these Washington quarters made of silver between 1932 and 1964 have a greater value than 25 cents. Not that using a 1964 quarter to pay for something isn't the same as any other quarter: 25 cents.

But as I Googled, I found that my quarter (a 1964 D Washington quarter) is worth..... $2.32!

So, what wouldn't buy me a Coke today is actually worth, like, 4 Cokes. Not that the machine will take it. And tomorrow I will still need another quarter because the "fancy" quarter won't be worth anything towards a Coke in the machine.

But, I enjoy that I am genius enough to recognize that my reject quarter was probably rejected because it was UNIQUE, and not WORTHLESS or faulty.

Oh, and don't steal my quarter. One day it could be worth, like, THREE dollars.

I will save it and put it in my will so that one day my children's children can inherit my fancy, very valuable quarter.

Along with my giant plastic Coke-shaped bottle that I fill with pennies every time I get a penny. It is now heavier than I can pick up. And one day when the penny is discontinued, I will have a very heavy, very weirdly valuable conversation starter.

My next Google project is to research the relationship between coins and Cokes.

Quarters = purchased Cokes
Pennies = filling up a giant Coke bottle.

I really think I am on to something here.

C.T.

My new favorite hobby

I've developed a new favorite pastime. A hobby, if you will. It is.....

DVRing bad movies then IMDBing them while watching them.

I learn all kinds of fascinating and useless information about all of the worst movies in the world.

Plus, I've noticed a pattern. If I watch more than one bad movie while IMDBing in one day, the chances that I will find one or more of the B-list actors from Bad Movie #1 that are also in Bad Movie #2 are 77 percent that this will happen.

It's a scientific percentage.

I've concluded that all B-list (and C-list and D-list) actors are in all of the same movies. In fact, I think there is really only one Bad Movie in the world. Someone just remakes it, changes the title, and shifts around the B-C-D-list actors from one version to the next. Over and over again.

I've also learned that Robert Englund, best know for his role as Freddy Kruger, is in ALL lame scary movies.

ALL of them.

I think everyone should have an educational hobby. Like mine.

C.T.

Grass Watch 2007

Much like Storm Watch 2007, or Ice Blast 2007, but with grass.

Last year, due to drought conditions and some other mysterious reasons unknown to mankind, the lawn in my backyard decided not to appear or be lovely as it once was. It was mostly dirt and weeds with a few patches of grass here and there.

Since we weren't allowed to water much, there was really nothing I could do to help it. I just had to watch my dirt patch be ugly and non-grassy. This was sad for me. I usually have a beautiful backyard full of healthy green St. Augustine grass.

This weekend, I worked a bit in the yard. I mowed it for the first time of the season, watered, then put down pre-emergent fertilizer. At the moment, the yard is approximately 75 percent weeds, with a side of dirt patches. But at least now all of the weeds are cut down to even height, and the fertilizer can reach the ground to begin working its magic.

And as I examined the yard closely today, I am happy to announce that I'm already seeing sprouts of grasslings in places where there wasn't grass last year. Plus the grass that did come in last year is still there and looks like it will be turning green over the next few weeks, as it should.

So, today begins Grass Watch 2007. Hopefully the yard will return this year in full force.

I will be monitoring it closely, providing regular updates on this official Grass Watch 2007 blog, and hoping that I don't have to buy brand new grass to have a yard again.

C.T.

The shape I'm in

Yesterday, I mowed my yard for the first time since November. I also blew some leaves around with my leafblower. And I pulled a few weeds.

Today I can't move my arms. And my back might fall off.

Seems that sitting on the couch and eating cheese for four months results in a lack of muscle function.

I'm calling it a scientific experiment.

It worked. I'm officially completely out of shape.

C.T.

Thou Shalt Not Covet Parking Spaces

There are lots of places to park at my office. We've got a parking lot.

Obviously.

We've also got a parking garage, which comes in handy in bad weather, or on really hot days. It adds some extra steps to get to the front door of my building. But my Jeep is safe and sound and protected from the elements there.

Then, there are four very special parking places. They are right up against the building, two on either side of the front door. They used to be reserved for deliveries, but they are now up for grabs for anyone who works in the building.

If I get there early enough, I can get one of these parking spaces, and I am literally just a few feet from the building. It's genius.

Sometimes when I come back from lunch, if I didn't have one of these special spaces earlier, sometimes whoever had them in the morning has left and I can clain the spot for the afternoon.

Also genius.

But what ISN'T genius is this little Volkswagen Beetle that thinks that no matter who is already parked in all four of these spaces, it can squeeze in anyway.

There are FOUR spaces, clearly marked. But almost everyday, this tiny Beetly has wedged it's way in as though it is exempt from the rules of being completely in one of the four marked spaces.

There are days when it is sticking out completely, not even close to being in the space. It's like it thinks if it has one tire close to the line and the curb, that counts.

One day, there were two Range Rovers, an Expedition, and a Hummer parked in these four spaces, but that stupid Beetle driver wedged in the middle of all of them anyway.

It makes me angry.

Everytime I am able to get one of these spaces, I make sure I take up as much room as possible so that little Beetle can't possibly fit in between me and the car on the other side of me. But it never fails. That stupid Beetle gets in there anyway.

One day I'm going to catch who drives that dumb Beetle.

And I will glare menacingly from inside my Jeep at whoever it is. And then I'll park somewhere else, since the Beetle will be in my coveted parking space.

C.T.

The Worst Oscar Post Ever

I watched the Oscars tonight, while I painted stuff and did my taxes. I wasn't terribly interested in the whole thing this year. I don't think I saw any of the nominated movies.

So, this is pretty much the Worst Oscar Post Ever.

But I will say this. I need to get myself some of those silhouette dancer people to just hang out in my house and make themselves into different things for me. Like, when I come home from work. Yes, when I walk in the door from a long day at work, I'd like to see the silhouette of a dinner plate.

Or when my TV goes out, I'd like to see the silhoutte of the show I was watching when the TV went out.

Or when I wake up in the morning, I'd like to see the silhoutte of a big cup of coffee.

And you know, maybe when they aren't silhouetting for me, they could do some laundry or clean up around here. That'd be nice, too.

C.T.

One cheek to the wind

Pajamas are my favorite thing in the world to wear. Next to jeans. But if it came down to either jammies or jeans as the only thing left in the world to wear for the rest of my life, I would choose jammies. No question.

Just about every time I get home from somewhere, within minutes of stepping in the door I am in my jammies. I'm just all about comfort any time I can get it.

I was home for the day yesterday sometime around 7-ish. I spent most of the day lunching and shopping with my mom. It was fabulous. But shopping always wears me out. So naturally, I walked in the door and went straight to pjs for the rest of my evening.

I puttered around the house, working on some projects. I made breakfast for dinner, which I enjoy almost as much as wearing pjs all the livelong day.

Eventually it was time for bed, so I crawled into bed. But I noticed that my bum was cold, even though I was underneath all of my blankets. I thought this was probably odd, so I climbed back out of bed to check on my pjs to make sure they were in good working order.

They weren't.

I turned around and looked in the mirror only to notice a HUGE hole in the back of my flannels pants. And I don't mean just any hole. I mean I was staring at a whole complete butt cheek staring back at me in the mirror. it wasn't a hole. There was a whole chunk just GONE where jammy pants should have been.

No wonder my arse was cold.....

I busted out laughing HYSTERICALLY. I mean, how did this happen? Not only did I not notice I was getting a hole in my pants at any point in the evening, but I had quite likely been walking around my house all night with my arse cheek hanging out in the cold.

Holy cow, I'm getting old. Walking around with one cheek to the wind, and I had no idea.

Oh well. I put on new jammies and went to bed. But now I'm paranoid that ALL of my pants (work pants, jeans, sweatpants) have giant holes in them that I don't notice. Or maybe I showed up to work everyday last week with a cheek out for all to see, and I had no idea.

I hope someone will tell me if I do ever leave the house mooning the world, unbeknownst to myself.

C.T.

Time Travel

I like that clicking the "back" button in a web browser is like going back in time.

It takes you right back to where you were at the time that you last looked at any particular page. It takes you back to whatever you looked at before what you looked at last.

It's not the same as going to the same exact page again. Because if you click on the page again going forward, it refreshes the info. But if you go back to it, it's just the way it was minutes or hours ago when you were first there.

It's just like time travel.

Shut up.

C.T.

Eleven Nickels

I have a very important goal at work. I've had this goal for quite some time, but I have yet to accomplish it.

I want to buy a Coke from the machine using only nickels.

A Coke costs 55 cents, which is 11 nickels. You'd be surprised at how hard it is to collect 11 nickels. I am constantly facing setbacks.

I had nearly met my goal of 11 nickels a couple of months ago, when a coworker asked for 15 cents to add to her change to buy a Coke. Being the kindhearted person that I am, I gave her the change I had, which cleared out my stash of nickels. After all, I couldn't really tell her no, and then go buy my own Coke. I'd have to explain that I wanted to use 11 nickels to buy a Coke, and that's why I couldn't give her my nickels.

To the casual observer, that might not be worthy of denying someone else the ability to quench their thirst with a few of my nickels.

At first, it is easy to collect the nickels. Every time I put in 60 cents, I get a nickel back in change. Do this 11 times, and there's my 11 nickels.

But then there are always days when I have 50 cents and I just need that one nickel to get my Coke. So I have to use one of my nickels with my two quarters, and that takes away one of the 11 nickels.

It's a setback.

Then there are setbacks like today. I put in 60 cents for today's Coke, but the machine did not spit out a nickel for change! SO today's Coke cost me 60 cents, PLUS it did nothing to help my nickel stash.

Damn. Hell. Damn. (thanks Grandma)

I think I've got 4 nickels in my desk at work now. Slow and steady wins the Coke.

I will never give up.

11 nickels. One Coke.

C.T.

I hate eye doctors

I hate going to the eye doctor. But now that I have soft contacts, I have to go at least once a year. With the hard contacts I used to have, I would go as long as I could, until I just couldn't see anymore, or I lost or broke one. I could go YEARS without seeing the eye doctor.

I'm not afraid of the eye doctor , like in that episode of Friends when Rachel is afraid of the eye doctor. I just hate going. I have terrible eyesight. I've been going since I was a little kid. And it's just a hassle.

I'm down to my last pair of contacts. They are in my eyeballs right now, which totally freaks me out. If I rip one or lose one (or BOTH), then I'm blind until I can get more contacts. And it would be several days before new contacts would come in. I have glasses, but I can't see out of them well enough to use them at work or for anything productive.

I've been able to put off going to the eye doctor for a few weeks because I've just been so busy that I haven't had time to go. But this week is quieter, so I called today to make an appointment so that I could ease the anxiety I'm feeling about the potential I have for messing up my last good pair of contacts without any backups. Turns out, he could see me this afternoon, which worked out great because I wouldn't have time to dread going.

I have to sneak up on it because I just hate having to go. The less time I have to think about going to the appointment, the better off I am. I hate taking the time off from work. I hate getting there and having to take out my contacts and stare at the blurry spot at the other end of the room. I can NEVER see anything on it. I hate the puff of air test. I hate having my eyes dialted. And then I hate having to leave and wait for another few days before I have my contacts in hand.

Not to mention, I HATE having to spend that much money just on the gift of sight. There are THOUSANDS of other things I would prefer to spend my money on, rather than my eyeballs. Those of you who can see without help, you don't know how good you have it.

So, today I leave at 3:30 and head down to the eye doctor. I'm psyched up for it. I'll get there, I'll get it out of the way, and by next week I'll have a new stash of contacts. It will be all taken care of and I won't have to worry about it again until next year.

I get there and no one is at the front desk. I HATE having to wait. She finally shows up and I have to fill out paperwork again. Whatever.

While I'm filling that out, the receptionist casually happens to mention that while I am eligible today for new frames or contacts, I'm actually NOT eligible for another exam until March 1.

Huh? Today is February 20. So.... that's definitely not March 1. My last exam was January 13. This would be MORE than a year since my last visit, so why would I NOT be eligible for another exam today, if I AM eligible to order new contacts??? Why would I order more contacts if I'm not sure I would even be able to see out of them?

And why did she wait to tell me this very critical piece of information until I'm there in the office for the appointment? Like, maybe it would have been good to mention this while we had that whole conversation on the phone earlier today when we verified my insurance information?? Or perhaps it would have been helpful to call me back before I got to the office to let me know that I'm not allowed to be there yet for another week?

Suddenly I was very frustrated. I'd left work for this, and now I would need to make ANOTHER appointment next week, which meant I would need to leave work AGAIN. Today's attempt at an appointment was a total waste of my time.

Plus, I still have to go another week without ripping or losing my contacts. Which isn't truly a big deal because I don't usually do that, but now that I CAN'T do it, this increases the potential that I WILL do it thousands-fold.

Plus, I'm still stressed about it the exam and I will have the appointment looming over my head for the next week.

Lame.

No one come near my eyeballs for at least another week or more. I can't risk hazard to my contacts.

C.T.

Parmesan Fajita Chicken Pasta

Anytime George Foreman and I can come together over culinary brilliance, it's a beautiful thing.

I can boil pasta and heat up sauce like nobody's business. But a few months ago, I discovered that I can let George Foreman heat up some chicken, and that takes my pasta to a whole new level.

So, basically this is my recipe:

Pasta (if you feel fancy, make it angel hair)
Sauce (heated right out of the jar)
Chicken
Parmesan cheese

The first time I made this delicacy, I used chicken breasts. But then I discovered that it goes much faster and is much easier to buy chicken strips. Now the whole meal takes 15 minutes. And George does pretty much all of the work.

Now, you may ask, what about the fajita part? Here's my secret....

I accidentally bought fajita chicken strips. At first, I was dismayed. But then I tried it, and it adds a special little twist to the entre that is pretty genius.

I haven't quite settled on the name for my new gourmet invention:

Parmesan Fajita Chicken Pasta
Fajita Parmesan Chicken Pasta
Fajita Chicken Parmesan Pasta
Pasta a la Parmesan Fajita Chicken
The Tyrant Special

Whatever. Look out, Rachel Ray. Paula Dean. Naked Chef.

All of you. Look out. And don't steal my recipe.

C.T.

Sucking: More, or Less

I've had the same vaccuum cleaner since I started college. After some quick math with my mom tonight, we calculated that my vac is more than 10 years old.

It's just your basic vac with some attachments. Nothing fancy. Nothing expensive. But too its credit, it has sucked well for a very long time.

A month or so ago I was cleaning and I noticed that the vac (I'm abbreviating because I can't spell vaccccuuummmm) smelled like the motor was burning up. I looked at it. I changed the bag. I was pretty sure this fixed it. But mostly I was just putting off buying a new vac because I hate having to spend money on things like vacs.

Anyway, fast forward to yesterday and I was cleaning again. It's been a cleaning extravaganza weekend. Something about cleaning is quite calming and therapeutic for me. I even cleaned my car, top to bottom, inside and out.

Anyway (again), I ran the vac yesterday. But remembering that the vac started sucking the last time I used it (and not in the good way) I was not satisfied that my floors were as clean as I really wanted them to be.

So, today I bought a new vac at Target. It's a lovely shade of blue, with a headlight and a HEPA filter, to boot. On sale, not fancy, but much better than the college vac I've been pushing around for more than 10 years.

I decided to try it out right after I got it home this afternoon. It's the bagless kind, which means I can see everything it's sucking out of the carpet. And HOLY COW. The old college vac must have stopped sucking (in the good way) a LONG time ago, because even after using the vac yesterday, the new fancy vac sucked up A LOT of crap today.

I vaccuummmmmmed the whole house again. It was AWESOME. I am now quite confident that my floors are clean.

So, I'm retiring the vac that sucked less, replacing it with a vac that sucks much, much more.

I'm also keeping all of the attachments from the old vac, which when combined with the attachments on the new vac, could quite possibly be long enough to allow me to vac the inside of my car parked in the garage while I recline in the comfort of my bed, inside the house.

And that, my friends, does not suck at all.

C.T.

Sinead O'Britney

Oh dear....



C.T.

Uh....

I also spent Valentine's Day with a 160-pound tumor.

On my tv. On TLC.

I don't know why I decided to watch this before I went to bed. But I should have quit while I was ahead.

What do you do with a 160-pound tumor after you remove it?

I don't think I really want to know.

C.T.

The nicest dinner I've ever had on Valentine's Day

Yep, that was tonight.

Fancy restaurant
Valet parking
Appetizers (the kinds that come four on a plate because they are so fancy they only give you four of them)
Fancy salad (the kind with lettuce that I can't pronounce and nuts that aren't nutty)
Filet minon
Fancy mashed potatoes
And cheesecake....

Plus, good company. In fact, it WAS my company. And some clients.

The fancy restaurant was all set up for couples, tables for two and white tablecloths as far as the eye could see. And there were the four of us in the middle of everything, talking business and having a great time.

My parents even called while they waited for their table for their Valentine's dinner to see if I wanted to join them. And trust me, if I could have made it over there in time for a second dessert of key lime pie, I totally would have....

I do loves me some key lime pie. And my parents.

Valentine's schmalentines.....

I got free steak tonight. And I still made it home in time for LOST.

C.T.

You thought I was kidding...

.....about sitting on the couch eating cheese.....






I'm doing it right now.

C.T.

I have no idea what day it is anymore

A week or so ago, I thought Wednesday was Thursday, so my whole week was off for the rest of the week.

Yesterday I thought the 15th was Wednesday.

Today I thought it was Wednesday, but it's only Tuesday. I'm sure the rest of my week just won't make sense.

I always know the date. I have to do so much planning that I am never without knowing exactly what the date is, plus just about any date any time in the near future, without looking at a calendar.

I know that April 8 is Easter (no one ever knows when Easter is until, like, two days before... is it in March? April? No one ever knows. It should stay the same day every year to make it easier on everyone.).

April 1 is Palm Sunday (as well as April Fool's day).

I know that this Sunday is the 18th. But I may not actually realize it's Sunday, since I thought today was Tuesday all day.

Whatever. I never miss where I have to be or when. And I never miss a meeting (except for the one I was late for this morning because I thought today was Wednesday...)

I got there eventually.

C.T.

God has great timing

I walked in to work this morning and found a card in my chair. It contained a $50 gift card and a note from two of my bosses thanking me for all the hardwork, great work, and extra time I've been putting in lately.

That couldn't have come at a better time, and could not have been more perfect. It was completely unexpected, and I really needed the positive reinforcement to start my week. It's been a rough few days.

The irony of receiving that particular compliment at this time made me smile... along with the $50 I was looking at.

Damn good timing.

C.T.

Welcome to my first ever LIVE Grammy Blogcast

I do loves me some Grammys. And I just happened to have plenty of time to watch and blog about them tonight. So, that works out nicely.

I'll start with the E! red carpet show:

1. Ryan Seacrest is shorter than EVERYONE. Literally. Even Hillary Duff, who seems to be 3 feet tall at best.

Um... that's all I got for the red carpet pre-show.

ON TO THE GRAMMYS!

1. A big shout out to the return of The Police. That was pretty sweet. My big question is.... where have the other two non-Sting Police been all of these years? I don't even know their names. And obviously Sting is, well, Sting. So I picture something like a letter writing campaign from the other to Polices for the past decade or so, which probably included at least one letter a day to Sting, begging him to get The Police back together for a reunion tour. I mean, I just don't imagine a lot of people are downloading Roxanne from iTunes these days (although to be fair, I downloaded it a long time ago). But I wouldn't imagine that my download plus a handful of others over the course of the past decade is really enough to pay the bills for the two non-Sting Polices. I guess Sting finally gave in. Good for them.

2. I'm sorry, Dad. But Justin Timberlake IS hot.

3. I liked the Joan Baez ventriloquism trick. It looked like Joan was talking, but with that microphone right in front of her face so that we couldn't see her mouth moving at all, she was like a life-size ventriloquist's doll. Awesome.

4. 45 minutes into the show, and I think only one award has been given out on stage. But approximately 108 awards have been given in a ceremony earlier today and are now scrolling across the screen.

5. I turned in my video audition late, otherwise I would have been the fourth girl up for the part of Singing With J.T. later in the show. But I'm still holding out that I'll get the call any minute. I won't take me long to change out of my pjs and get on stage. Don't worry.

6. Next time I win a Grammy, I'm totally bringing a deck of cards of people to thank, too. You go, Mary J. I wonder who she is going to thank for the rest of her 27 awards? She thanked them all for the first award.

Um.... DVR weirdness. I have to watch Desperate Housewives for awhile.... Remember, this is a LIVE Blogcast, people. I can't be held responsible for DVR (or wardrobe) malfunctions.

Ok, back to Grammys. I hope I didn't miss anything important.

7. Does Smokey Robinson have kind of a crazy look in his eyes? Just short of psycho, or perhaps just bewildered.

8. I like that for the Lifetime Achievement Awards they just say your name and point a camera at you in your seat. I guess they figure that after all you've achieved, you're either too old to get up on stage and get an award, or it's just too much to ask at that point. Sadly, only one Door was left to be seat-recognized this year.

9. I think Jamie Foxx just realized that Christina Aguilara can sing. He seems surprised.

10. Christina Ricci and Samuel L. Jackson presenting an award makes about as much sense as me and the old guy across the street presenting an award.

11. That was the most bizarre and confusing tribute to James Brown I've ever seen.

12. Ok, what's NOT good about Ludacris, Mary J., and Earth, Wind & Fire all stuck together in one song???? Not a thing. ALL good.

13. Just when I FINALLY got that DAMN (thanks, Grandma) James Blunt song out of my head, the Grammys assume we all need to hear it again. I will NEVER forgive them for this. It's not beautiful. It's true. Doesn't he have any other songs? Anything?

14. Polka in Paradise won Best Polka Album. Sweet.

15. I'm pretty sure Prince just did his own tribute to himself in the form of a television commercial recognizing his own Super Bowl halftime performance. Odd.

16. Damn (thanks again, Grandma). I didn't win My Grammy Moment with J.T. That's ok. Didn't want to get out of my pjs anyway.

17. Wow. I would have guessed that Tony Bennett was not a day under 92. Good for him.

18. That dude that can fly on Heroes is totally married to a Dixie Chick. Awesome.

19. Is Quentin Tarantino wearing a Purple Heart? And which war would that be from exactly?

20. Uh oh. The Dixie Chicks might be mad now about getting played off of the stage. Watch out for their next single, "How Dare You Play Music While We Talk On Stage at The Grammys.... We're Real Mad". Their last angry single seems to be working well for them, so maybe they should do more of those anyway.

21. So when does Al Gore's new cd come out? Anyone know?

22. Um, check that. Anyone know when Scarlett Johansen's cd comes out? That one's serious, y'all. For reals.

23. Who is that creepy hairy guy that keeps wandering up on stage with the Dixie Chicks? He didn't get the dress code memo.

Alright, y'all. THE END.

C.T.

Hell and Damnation

My Grandma had surgery to replace her pacemaker a couple of days ago. My parents went up to be with her for a few days.



The latest report today is that the surgery was simple and went great, and that she is doing great. She had been sluggish and disoriented due to the lack of oxygen getting to her brain because of the malfunctioning pacemaker. But now she is perky, chatty, and feeling good.

In fact, she is feeling so good that she has picked up a new habit in the past few days since the surgery. She now cusses like a sailor. And apparently it is hilarious.

My mom called with the update earlier today, and she told me all about my grandma cussing up a storm, and that they all just die laughing because it's hilarious. Even hearing my mom repeat the things my Grandma was saying was hilarious. You have to understand that my grandma is just one of those ladies that doesn't do that. She never goes a day without her make-up on (her "face" as she calls it), even in her nursing home. We never used to wear cut-off jean shorts to visit Grandma because she didn't approve of that as acceptable attire. My Grandma is a role model, through and through. I have never heard her swear in my entire life. God-fearing and upstanding all the way.

But I guess now that she's getting full oxygen to the brain again, and considering she's 86 years old, I guess she figured she's got nothing to lose, so before it's too late, she'd better get some good cussing in....

So, as one of my role models in life and as someone I've always respected, I say if she can do it, SO CAN I.

Hell. Damn. Damn. Damn...... Hell. Damn.

I definitely needed the laugh today. For the first time in five and a half years, I only have one job. I've suddenly been given the gift of time, but with less money to fill my time. Granted, it's only 8-10 hours a week of time. But I'm not quite sure what to do with this unexpected change in circumstance. More time to sit alone on the couch eating cheese, I suppose....

My keychain is lighter. It's odd. The weight of a keychain is comforting and familiar. Mine is strange and foreign now, and it makes a different noise when my remaining keys clank together. I don't recognize it.

It's been a perfect night to hunker down with some comforting Whataburger, my pjs, and my DVR. I'm tired. I'm weepy. I don't know what to say.

So I'll take a cue from one of the wisest people I've ever known....

Hell. Damn Damn Damn. Hell Hell...... Damn.

C.T.

Neckties and Pantyhose

I'm not really sure who decided that neckties are the accessory for men that make them fancy. But I'm not sure why they chose the necktie as that particular fancy-making accessory.

I just spent two days in meetings with men who had to wear neckties. Sure, a good necktie adds a certain perfection to a suit, or even just to a shirt without a jacket.

BUT...

A BAD necktie (especially with a BAD shirt) just ruins everything. Ruins the shirt, ruins the suit, ruins everything. Ruins the whole point of wearing the tie, which is to make you look NICER. But for every good tie-shirt combo, there's like.... 108 BAD tie-shirt combos walking around out there.

Plus, they're obviously not comfortable to wear. And they always get in the way. Guys are always throwing their ties over the shoulder to eat and to generally keep them out of the way. What's dressed-up about a tie thrown over your shoulder?

Now, I'm not saying there were any bad ties and bad shirts in my meetings this week. I just found my mind wandering from time to time, and I kept staring at all the ties and wondering .... why ties?

It's like pantyhose. Who decided that pantyhose are the accessory needed to dress up us ladies? I mean, you get ONE run in your pantyhose and you take what was a fabulous attempt at dressing nicely for some sort of fancy occassion STRAIGHT to trailer trash with a run in your hose. And there's no way to fix it when you're out and about. You just have to be trailer trash.

In your Oscar dress on the red carpet, being Glam-Cammed by E! = FANCY

.... but with a run in your hose = Trailer Trash. Even though it is an Oscar dress and probably costs 108 thousand dollars, the run you just got in your hose while tripping over Ryan Seacrest totally takes you down to trailer trash for the rest of the evening. Nothing you can do about it.

Even if you win an award..... sorry. Still trailer trash, because you got up on stage in your fancy dress, but with a run in your hose.

That's just the way I see it, folks. Neckties and pantyhose. Pretty sure we should rethink that whole thing.

C.T.

In Florida again

For work. Again.

Here are some thoughts.

Catching a plane at 7:50 am is not so much fun. Sitting in coach while two of your bosses are in 1st class.... even less fun.

I always do stupid things when I travel. On business trips, I have to work really hard to do the stupid things where none of my bosses see me. Like... last trip home, somehow I accidentally didn't lock the bathroom door on the plane. And yep, sure enough some guy opens the door and gets to see, um, a whole lot of me. The back row of the plane got a good look, too. Fortunately none of my coworkers or bosses were anywhere near. SUPER embarrassing. I have told no one this. Until now.

And now everyone in the world knows.

This time, I accidentally sat in the wrong seat on the plane. I mean, really. Who can read row numbers at 7:30 in the morning? But then when I got to my actual row, I ended up having the whole row to myself. So that worked out nicely.

Then I got up to go to the bathroom, and I walked right by it. I assumed it was at the back of the plane, but nope. It was in the middle of the plane. Who puts a bathroom there?!?!? Fortunately I did lock the door this time. But then when I walked back to my seat, I PASSED THAT, TOO. One of my bosses did see me do that. Lovely.

Then later, at dinner, I almost walked into the men's restroom.

Maybe I just have a problem with bathrooms that aren't in my house.

What my hair loves about Florida is that it is REALLY windy and REALLY humid, all at the same time. I'm looking fabulous, I must say.

I've got a king-size bed, which is AWESOME. But there's just one problem. The clock is on one side of the bed, and the phone is on the other side. So if I set the alarm AND get a wake-up call, I have no idea how I will be able to silence BOTH of them in the morning without seriously hurting myself, because they are SO FAR AWAY from each other. Seriously, you could fit like, 50 of me in this bed.

I don't want to iron my pants for tomorrow. I'm hoping the wrinkles just fall out on their own.

Yes, I did wear my Chuck Taylors with my suit all day up until the point I actually had to go into the meeting with clients. My bosses made fun of me, but hey, if I have to travel before dark in a suit, at least my feet will be comfortable. I insist. And I will do it on the way home tomorrow, too.

Seriously, the "business center" in this hotel consists of one desk with a computer on it, in the middle of the breakfast nook in the lobby. I think "center" may be too generous of a term.

For the first time ever in my life, someone introduced me by pronouncing my last name correctly the first time, and then they FORGOT my boss's name completely. HA!

The Ft. Lauderdale airport this morning was littered with weary Super Bowl fans decked out in Super Bowl garb, literally just laying all over the floor as we arrived. i must say, I felt extremely overdressed in my suit.... and Chuck Taylors.

That's all I got. Time to get some work done in my big king-size bed.

C.T.

Happy Birthday....

...to the one NOT in the awesome red plaid jacket/shirt.



Big Sister

Well, I was only one off.

But she should have won.

After all, she had some of the best free coaching ever from me and a group of my peers....



I hate the Misses of Oklahoma.

C.T.

As I watch the Miss America Pageant....

these things come to mind.

One-piece swimsuits will ALWAYS get you kicked right out. I mean, come on. If you make the Top 10, even if you are a Mormon, you'd best show some skin if you want to keep going.

Why is tap dancing in such a ridiculous manner all over the stage considered a legitimate talent? How is that going to save the world or help diabetes or help poor people? I just can't help but laugh at the tap dancers.

I need to play the piano with more flare. I need a big read, feathery dress.

If you're going to butcher a perfectly ridiculous Phil Collins song, national TV might not be the best place to do it.

If you are the two Miss Congeniality losers, I guess you have to be really, really nice while losing on stage. You know, being a contender for Congeniality and all. Although it would have been awesome to see one of the losers just totally go nuts and punch out A.C. Slater.

If you are going to butcher a perfectly good Andrea Bocelli song, national TV is probably not the best place to do it.

Nigel is pretty.

I'm not really sure who dressed Debi Allen tonight, but yuck.

Shilah just made the Top 3. Stay tuned....

C.T.

Miss America 2007, y'all

I'm predicting that tomorrow night will crown Shilah Phillips as Miss America 2007. I can claim a small role in Shilah's success winning Miss Texas through some expert pageant coaching, and I feel confident that she will go all the way. And that she would be nothing without my help.

I changed the look of the rantings.

In case you didn't notice.

C.T.

i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall
i hate the mall

Read this last night
In a book of reflections on the teachings of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

It is a love not simply for friends, but also for enemies. It is a love that burns not only in the fire of familiar intimacy, but burns equally bright in the hot coals of enmity and rejection.

This is no mere human love. This is God's love made recklessly abundant in the human heart. . . . That we know little of such a love is a sad comment on the spiritual emptiness of our present world . . . Only a deeper conformity to the Christ who forgave those who crucified Him can spawn such a love into such cold hearts as ours.

C.T.

When will the wait be ogre?
I just saw a commercial for the new Shrek movie.

And by "new' I mean it will be out in 115 days. How do I know this?

BECAUSE THAT'S THE AD. Yes, the wait will be "ogre" in 115 days.

Now, my questions are these:

1. (since this is a kid's movie and all)... are movie-promoting people under the impression that kids can count to 115? I can barely count that high and I'm a very old kid.

2. Do these same movie-producing people under the impression that kids are going to figure out when 115 days is in the future, mark it on their calendar, and wait patiently until that day?

3. Are parents interested in hearing this for the next 115 days: CAN WE GO SEE SHREK TODAY? IS IT TODAY?? IS IT TIME FOR SHREK??? ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR... AHUNDREDANDFIFTEEN!!!! I WANNA SEE SHREK!!!!

4. So seriously, everyday for the next 115 days, are we going to see this Shrek movie commercial counting down to Day 1?

I'm not really sure I understand this marketing logic. But I guess it's never too early to start promoting stuff to ensure the success of a project.

So just so everyone knows, in 115 days (which I think is sometime in December of 2010) I won't care that Shrek III is now available in theaters, nor will I care that the wait is "ogre".

C.T.

Happy Birthday to Me!
Yep. And it's been a good one. All weekend.

Dinner with friends.

Home-cooking with the family. Nap with the puppies.



Some much-needed birthday house-cleaning. I tell you what, it's something special to have a clean house for my birthday, even if I cleaned it myself.

Today was a day off from work. A facial with my mom. A jaunt to Target. Whataburger for lunch. A birthday nap.

AND, I cooked. Yep, dinner is simmering on the stove. And it's NOT from a box. It's an actual recipe.

I wrote a whole blog in my head during my facial, but then I forgot it because I was so relaxed. I've never had a facial before. It. Was. Awesome.

She cleaned off 30 years of face grime, so now I will start with a clean face slate. I'm not really sure what all she did to me, but I'm pretty sure at one point one of the masks was Vics Vaporub.

I don't care. It was awesome.

Tonight is a brand new Heroes and a brand new Studio 60, plus my Mamaw's taco soup (that's what I made for dinner, yo).

Happy, happy birthday to me.

C.T.

Also...
I've just discovered that American Idol uses Garage Band for their musical interludes because I just recognized a clip I found in Garage Band and used in one my musical masterpiece arrangements on my sister's CD that I made for my mom.

Garage Band is genius. And clearly, so am I for using it. I could have created the soundtrack for American Idol and be rich and famous by now.

Dang.

C.T.

The consensus is....
Simon doesn't know anything about music at all.

At least that's the word on the streets in Minneapolis and Seattle.

C.T.

Aging Well
I hear that phrase sometimes when you see, say.... an old lady that looks absolutely great. You say "Wow, has she aged well." Or when you see an old lady that looks about another 100 years older than the 100 years old that she really is. You'd say "Wow, she has NOT aged well at all..."

But, that's not really what I'm refering to here. I'm thinking more in terms of lifestyles as we age, at any age. How we progress through our lives as we age as individuals. I think it's important that as we grow older, as we work through what maturity means for us, or what responsibility means for me, or spirituality or family or our place in our lifespan progresses through the years, that whatever that means for each of us, we are doing what we can to age well .... wholistically.

Sure, I also hope to be that old lady that gets a "Wow, has she aged well!" But that's really beside my thoughts here.

I don't do New Years resolutions. I don't necessarily believe that the start of a calendar year is the ideal time to start new things or make life changes. I know for me, my moods, ideas, responsibilities, growth, and changes are almost never related to 12:01am January 1.

BUT, it just so happens that my birthday is in January, so I think about these things coincidentally as the new year begins. Each year for the past few years, I've spent the first few weeks of January thinking about what I want my next year to be for me. Goals, changes, projects, finances, people in my life, whatever. There's no formal process for this. But I like to make myself take the time during this period before I start another year of my life to think about my life, what I like, what I don't like, and what (if any) changes I know I should really think about take action to make progress in those areas.

I'm not always successful at turning my review into actual actions. But, I tend to be sentimental, and a "reviewer". I'm constantly reviewing things and thinking back on things. So instead of turning that into an obsessive thing during the few weeks before my birthday when I'm thinking about my upcoming year, I try to think about it in productive ways of my place in life and if this is really where I want to be now, and if not, where I want to go and what can I do this year to move towards that.

I'm sure this all sounds much more proactive and goal-oriented than it really is. But really, it's just something that I do to take stock of things and ask myself some questions. And I really haven't been doing it for that many years.

Last year when I turned 30, I realized that I really wasn't happy. And I've been unhappy for a long time. And, when I thought about it, I couldn't really pinpoint what was making me unhappy. So, I decided that I wanted to start my 30s making a bold effort towards happiness in my life because I don't want my 30s to start like my 20s ended in the happiness department. Time is just too precious to waste being unhappy for no good reason.

I decided I needed some help with this. So, I started counseling last January. This was a big deal for me. I'm still going and I'm still exploring "me" and my quirks and foibles and how I can be happy inspite of how much I make myself crazy. But it's been fabulous (especially the drugs that have come with it....).

That's a big confession for my blog, but I'm feeling really open right now. My expectation for starting my 30s happier and healthier came with one major caveat for myself, and that was no deadline. I didn't want the pressure of "I have to be happier by 31!." I wanted this to work and to be helpful, so I wanted to just work through all that it involves in a way that it really sticks and really makes a difference. Because if my 30s are going to be happier as a decade, I can't start it with a quick fix or by not paying attention. A bandaid fix isn't going to last. Plus, it's not cheap. So I have to make it count as I go.

Much of the past year, truthfully, has been even LESS happy for me than 29 was. But, it's a process. It's digging in and putting words to fears, anxieties, struggles, hopes, dreams, disappointments, and figuring how to look all of that in the face and make myself feel better about myself, my world, my life. It's making changes that are hard to make, it's accepting things that are hard to accept, it's basically an overhaul of the past 30 years of being a certain way and figuring out the best ways to keep who I am but turn that into a happier me. It's part of my aging well agenda. And it's leading to understanding myself better, being happier, and getting past what is WRONG to what I can make RIGHT. It's genius.

So that was 30. Next week I face 31.

I haven't spent time with many specifics for 31. I haven't laid out a plan. But I've got a general idea of what I want for myself this year.

1. I want to get promoted at work. I want to respect my job. I want to be happy there. I want to succeed. I want to commit.

About 4 or 5 months ago I was having a REALLY rough time at work, in part due to being a mess outside of work. I was messing everything up. I wasn't focused. I dreaded going to work everyday and I had a really hard time making it through the day with any ounce of sanity. Plus, I wasn't really the nicest person to work with on most days.

Not that I'm 100 percent NOT a mess as a whole today, but I've had a heart to heart with myself about my job and I've decided it's time to stop playing around with it and half-heartedly being there. It's time to commit. Not to say I do poor work. I do a good job on a normal day and I always keep a commitment to a certain level of good performance and integrity in my work. But, I could really rock that job if I set my mind to it.

I want a raise. I want higher status. I want more responsibility. And I've already begun. I've gotten two new clients in the past two weeks. I've been to meet one of them in Florida. I'm cranking out reports and agendas and meetings. I'm knocking heads, I'm keeping everyone on task. I'm speaking up in meetings and tossing around ideas with the bigwigs. I'm now working from home some nights and some on the weekend to make sure I am not missing anything, and to show my bosses that I am really in this. I've found that if I check email even just once on a Saturday, shuffle some emails around (making sure to copy at least one boss on a few of the emails) it has already boosted everyone's confidence in me that I am taking care of my business. I had to have a heart to heart with myself about that, too. Bringing work home. But I've realized that if I want the raise, the promotion, the respect of my peers and bosses, it's going to take some hard work for awhile.

Plus, throwing around some key marketing words and phrases from time to time (even if I have no idea what I'm talking about) works WONDERS for people's perception that I am capable to handle the job. I am REALLY good at picking up things from people, observing and learning how to use words or phrases or processes (and eventually learning what they mean). That's been an asset.

So, I'm on it. This job thing.

And it's already paid off. Today, two different bosses came over to my desk at two separate times and gave me huge props for some conference calls I led this week and dealing with our new clients. That's a huge deal. So, I'm on my way for this goal. I'm already catching the attention of the higher-ups. And that is good. I mean, after all I am 31 years old. I have been with my company for two and a half years. I am past entry-level positions and depending on others to make sure I am doing my job. I want to grow up a bit at work. I still feel like a kid in a grown-up's job sometimes. But that's not the case anymore. I'm the adult now.

And strangely, I've found over the past couple of months that I really enjoy my job. I'm actually having fun there during the day, crazy as it is any given day. It's nonstop almost everyday. But, I enjoy the people I work with. I'm settling in to a new groove of professionalism, organization, and just really working hard to be available as a resource and contribute to the organization, treating everyone with kindness and respect. It's like something has clicked in me lately, and things are starting to come together in a way that works for me at my job. I'm keeping up with details, focused, and looking for more ways I can make a difference beyond just being a task-master.

Of course, my goal is NOT to become one of those workaholic nuts that works all the time, on the weekends, evenings. If I ever get to that point, I'm OUT and it's time for a career change. But for now, I'm seeing what I can do to get ahead, and that's a big step for me. I've never seen myself with a "career" or getting the hang of this marketing thing, or having goals to move ahead in my job. I'm a "creative", not a marketing brain. But I've found that I am good at the marketing and the details if I make the effort to learn and stay focused.

In fact, I shouldn't be sacrificing the time to blog right now.... ha! But I am. And I've discovered that working at home in my pjs on my Macbook while I watch American Idol really isn't so bad after all.

2. I want to work on my personal connections.
Over the past year, I have flaked out at some point (and as a general bad habit) on pretty much everyone I know. I'm terrible at keeping in touch, whether you are close by or far away. I've checked out. I've shut down and holed up. And I want to get back to my relationships and responsibilities with friends and family. They are important to me and I need to be sure I am showing that in every way possible.

3. Along that vein, I want to spend more time with family. Not always in quantity (although more often is good), but also in quality. And this has already happened a lot over the past year or so. I've just got a really great family - my parents, grandmas, aunts, uncles, cousins and their family. Um... and the puppies, of course. I've been able to see family more over the past year, spend more time with my parents, and connect with them. I want to be sure they know what they mean to me, and I have a history of not communicating that very well. I want to improve that and continue enjoying time with them. They are super precious, after all.

4. I want to take better care of myself.
Over the past year or so, I have developed some bad habits that I want to go away, and I want to work on other good habits that I need to make a priority. I truly hate the word "habit". I don't think we really do things out of habit. We choose to do or not do things depending on our levels of selfishness, self-centerdness, laziness, or appearances. I need to brush my teeth every night, but when I don't it's because of laziness. Not necessarily tied to a habit. The habit is either that I DO brush my teeth every night, or I DON'T - a habit either way. But my actions are motivated by whether I care to stay awake for another 3 minutes, or if I decide I don't care about my teeth tonight and I'd prefer to snuggle under my electric blanket and get to sleep right now. The bottom line is, they really need to be brushed every night, and I kinda want to do that.

Of course, this issue isn't related just to my teeth or any form of hygiene, really. I want to make more time to read, and choose things to read that improve my life and help me age well. I want to balance my time better, allowing for plenty of time for my introverted recharging rest alone in my house, but also to allow more time for spending with people. I've sacrificed time with people a lot to hole up alone. I want to eat better. I'll eat a Totinos pizza every night of the week because it takes no effort from me and it costs a dollar, and I can spend "cooking" time doing something else. But at the end of the week when I feel like crap, maybe 5 Totinos pizzas in a row wasn't the best idea. I want to keep my house cleaner. I go from one extreme to the other. I'm obsessively neat and clean, or I don't care. I've got two weeks worth of Sunday newspapers sitting next to me on the floor right now. I've got the time to put them away. I just don't care. But I want to find a happy medium of cleanliness versus letting things get out of control because I'd rather watch something I've got on DVR.

5. And part two of taking better care of myself is figuring some things out with God and getting back to relationship with Him. I've completely let that go over the past year or so. I just haven't been interested. I've been frustrated. I've been hurt. And most important, (and this will sound strange, but it's a good thing), I need to separate God from church.

I've let my personal relationship with Christ suffer. And I've simply gotten to a point where I don't know what to do with Him, and I don't know what to let Him do with me. And that has brought me to a place where I have to separate God from church. God is not hurtful or vengeful, but when we are hurt in our church or we are going through a time when it is hard to connect in communal worship or in other ways of worship with our community of believers, we cannot hold God responsible for that. We can't leave God out. We have to find ways to see Him and spend time with Him. He's not just at church.

I want to be back active in my church. But I think in order to do that, I have to connect with God again first. I'm searching and questioning and taking very small, baby steps to move in a more positive direction in this area. I've been very complacent about it. None of this is to say that my church is wrong or bad or incorrect or isn't a great place. I truly believe that it is a great place, and I have been very involved over the years in participating in the growth of my church. I've grown a lot there in my years there and it always hold a special place in my heart. I dearly love the people who make up my church community, and many of the people who are dear to me and who I call my circle of friends are in my life because of my church.

But, it's been a tough year for me. I haven't found the answers I'm looking for there, either in the building, in our worship times, in conversations with people, or otherwise. We're growing and changing as a church, and I am growing and changing and struggling with things that have left me weary of keeping up with much that has gone on for my church lately. So, I've checked out rather than keep trying to make sense of it all.

My journey to get back to it is to start with God and see where that leads me.

That is another big confession, but I will leave it at that for now.

This isn't the sum total of what I'm thinking about for my year 31. But it's a start and it's some big stuff. And my caveat again is that there is no deadline. If I accomplish all of this before 32, fabulous! If I am keeping up with it and staying serious and mindful of not being in exactly the same place that I am right now at 30 when I end 31 at this time next year, then I'm on the right track and I am satisfied with that. I just don't want to have this same list of things to mull over at this time next year.

I don't really do "action items". I do that with everything at work, putting together a list of action items (like a to-do) list, and them checking them off as I go. I try not to be that rigid in my personal life because I think all of the action items at work and at play would drive me insane and occupy all of my obsessive tendencies.

But last year I did have one action item, and that was to call a counselor and get in front of someone before the end of January to get started on the happiness thing. And I did that.

This year I've already picked up some books to get going on my search for God again. So that's my action item and I can already check it off my list, even though it was a completely random accidental opportunity for free books this week.... I started reading one last night and I didn't fall asleep or get frustrated, and it was actually a perfect chunk of reflection from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. about finding out all of the ways God loves us, and everything else comes out of that. Good start for me.

I want to age well. And the key word I'm using for all of the 5 goals above and as I figure out what it means for me to age well is "want". Not need. I don't "need" to make these changes. It's not a chore or requirement. And to be perfectly honest, I could be just fine where I am, doing what I'm doing, not changing a thing.

But aging well is where I want to be and what I want to do, and that's just where I need to be as 31 stares me in the face next week.

Word.

Off to work now... in my pjs and during American Idol, of course.

C.T.

Possibly a near-perfect evening
Well, considering it's too cold to survive doing anything else this evening, and I'm lacking anyone to cudle with on the couch...

Golden Globes on DVR
Macbook
IMDB
Google
Flannel pjs
Leopard-print slippers
Hot spice tea
Blog

I don't know that I will have an all-encompassing recap of the awards like I have in the past. But now that it's an interactive experience for me (what with the Google and IMDB and instant access to what movies some of these random no-name actors are in), I may have perfected my award show watching experience.

Next to being there in person, of course.

Incidentally, getting kicked off of American Idol was the best thing that ever happened to Jennifer Hudson. Nice!

C.T.

I love hotels
I just do.

I'm currently in Florida, sitting in my hotel room, and I love it. Sadly, I'm here on business and not here for fun. Although... I keep telling my bosses that I'm on spring break. They just look at me funny when I say that.

But I think 8 hours of straight meetings, a working lunch, a working dinner, then the past two hours of working through emails from the office that I missed all day proves that I am very much NOT on spring break. I can't even concentrate on Grey's Anatomy. I'm working.

Of course, right now I'm blogging. And then I'm done for the night.

But back to hotels. I just really like them. Forget all the disgusting things about them. I've seen all the Dateline specials about germs all over the bed, in the bathroom, on the remote control, yada yada. You just can't think about that stuff when you're in a decent hotel. I consider it when I'm in a less-than-nice hotel. But in nicer hotels, you just have to pretend that you are the first person to ever stay in this room, and nothing has ever been touched by human hands until you arrived in the room.

It's not even the novelty of my own room, my own bathroom, my own space, or seclusion for a day or so. I have all of that at home.

It's that I have TWO beds right now. Why? I don't know. I didn't ask for two beds. But here's one, and right over there? It's another one. I am using one for sleeping and one for my closet. I don't want to take the time to actually hang things up to get the wrinkles out. My bed-closet is working just fine.

I've got a big bathroom with a lot of counter space. This is super fun for me. My bathrooms at home, while I do have TWO bathrooms that are good and nice, neither of them exactly have superfluous counter space. I love that in hotel rooms I can open my toiletries bag and dump all of it out, leave my flat iron on the counter, along with the hairdryer, a towel, and the coffee pot - all at the same time - and I still have room to function.

I can change the temperature in the room, up and down, all night long if I want to (although I don't want to do that - I pretty much just want to sleep all night long) and I don't have to worry about my electric bill.

I don't have to clean anything or straighten anything, yet when I come back after a long day at work, my bed is made and the bathroom is clean. Plus I can use a brand new towel every time I get myself wet in any way. I have four bath towels, but there is only one of me and I am only here for two nights. That's a lot of towel for a small person such as myself. In fact, I could make a complete towel outfit to wear in my room for the rest of the night, and still have enough towels leftover for my shower in the morning.

My question is, what is up with hotel room alarm clocks? Does anyone on the planet know how to set one of those things? I spent ten minutes on it last night before I finally figured it out. I used my cellphone alarm as a back-up, of course. I usually do the wake-up call, but when I checked into my room last night at 11:00, I witnessed the night frontdesk guy take a call from someone requesting a wake-up call, and his performance in programming the phone to call the guest did not convince me that I should trust him with waking me up this morning. So I chose the room alarm clock and my cellphone.

But I just don't understand why they have the most complicated alarm clocks in the world in every hotel room in the world. It's like they come from a special Hotel Alarm Clock Factory that can only produce complicated alarm clocks for the hotel industry.

I'm sure there are more random things that I enjoy about hotel rooms, but I'm pretty tired. I'm going to pick a bed and go to sleep now.

C.T.

The best moment of my day...
...is pretty much when I get home after a long day of running around like crazy at work and I first get home and into my pjs and snuggle onto the couch under my blanket.

Ok, it might not be the "best" moment. Morning coffee is pretty good, too.

Ipodding in the car on the way to work, also nice. That's new for me, and the ipod has made my morning commute much nicer.

But the moment of combining the pjs (symbolic of removing the uniform of the day and finally getting to relax) with the warm comfort of a soft blanket and a comfy couch (symbolic of, um.... of a good couch) . . . . that's just pretty sweet.

C.T.

There's really no need for me to ever leave my house again
I've got it all right here.

I haven't blogged in awhile. I've been lazy. And busy. I mean, it's been so long since I've blogged that when I logged in to blog tonight, I had to re-enter my password. I haven't had to do that in forever. Then it took me to a new version of Blogger, told me it needed to transfer my blogs from the old version to the new version, and then told me to come back later because it would take awhile.

Um, just how long have I been gone? New version of Blogger??

Anyway, it took so long to transfer my blog to New Blogger, I've lost the desire to blog tonight. But, I'll see what I can do...

Christmas was good. I acquired several key things that could quite possibly allow me to never have to leave my house ever again:

1. The family piano was moved from my parents' house to my house. This is the piano that my mom learned to play on as a kid. Then my sister and I learned to play on it when we were kids. This is the piano that was a torture device from ages 5 to 16, tying me to it (not literally, just figuratively) for hours upon hours of practice when I would rather have been doing ANYTHING other than practice. Unfortunately for me, I was a good piano player. Which meant I had to keep at it because I wasn't bad enough to be allowed to quit. If I had actually seriously practiced all those years, I could probably be some famous piano player person right now.

Well, maybe not. But if I had put more effort into it, I could probably do something with it now. Around the age of 15 or 16, the piano teacher I had at the time was like, "Eh, I've got nothing more to teach you." Granted, she wasn't exactly the most genius teacher I had throughout the years. I had a great teacher (Mrs. Stewart) that we had to leave behind when we moved after 8th grade. But after Mrs. Non-Genius teacher in highschool, we decided I'd given it a good run, she had nothing more to give me, and we left it at that. At the time, it was the freedom I had longed for. But sometimes, I wonder what more I could have done if I'd kept at it.

Really, I jest. The piano years weren't all that bad. "Practice" meant that we set the timer for 30 minutes and I sat at the piano waiting for the timer to buzz while I clanked a few keys now and then so that my mom could hear me "practicing". It wasn't actually "torture", and it wasn't like I was a child virtuoso being forced to practice 8 hours a day. I just always thought there was something I'd rather be doing for those 30 longest-minutes-ever a day. And if I happened to be preparing a piece that I didn't totally love, I just wasn't interested in perfecting it. Even though perfecting it meant I'd get to move on to another piece...

I was good, though. I just didn't have to work super hard at it to stay ahead of everyone else. I liked performing last at the recitals because the recital would start with the young kids, then move through the older kids, then end with the most accomplished students at the end. And that was usually me, or this other guy. And it was always an unspoken competition between us to see which of the two of us would be last to end the show. He was older than me, so technically he should have been better than me because he had been playing longer. But I still wanted to have the honor of earning the last spot in recitals. Truthfully, I hated recitals A LOT. But, I still wanted to be last. To make a statement, of course.

Anyway, this piano monologue has been significant to me because for Christmas this year, I asked for the family piano to come live at my house. Over the past couple of years, I've just really wanted to play. I haven't touched a keyboard in years. But a couple of weeks ago, my mom had the piano delivered to my house while I was at work. When I got home, I sat down and played for a couple of hours. For the first time in several years.

I was SUPER rusty. I didn't even know where to start, so I just opened up one of my books from my lessons and I started with something that had lots of pencil marks all over it. That was my clue that it was probably something I had played before.

My fingers don't work like they used to. But I am proud to say (and Mrs. Stewart, my awesome teacher that I had for years before the less genius teacher I ended with, would be proud to know), that I still have most of Maple Leaf Rag memorized.

And here's the story on that. Maple Leaf Rag was MY song. It was my go-to piece that I played in numerous piano competitions, including (yes, I'm a huge dork) a Ragtime Piano Competition. I rocked like only Scott Joplin could. In fact, I played this song so many times that eventually I could NOT play it with the music in front of me. I would get distracted by the notes on the page. And beyond that, I played it so much that I couldn't even look at the keyboard while I played. It became a party trick. Me playing this ridiculous song with my eyes closed.

(Um truthfully, if the party got to this point, it was because the party wasn't good. And I probably never actually did this at parties because I'm terrified of playing in front of people. I probably only did it in front of my sister and my parents, because it was funny for us. And probably for no one else.... and really I probably haven't really done it for them more than once.... I don't really know.)

And yep, it seems the only way I can still play it is without the music and without looking at the keys. When I sat down a couple of weeks ago, I started with the music, but soon did away with it and fixed my gaze on something other than my hands and the keys. My piano lessons used to consist of Mrs. Stewart taking the music away and covering my hands and the keyboard with a makeshift piece of cardboard so that I couldn't see the keys. This was to get me to FEEL the music and to quit thinking so much. It was genius.

And freakin' hard. But as a result, sometimes I play more accurately without the music in front of me. And somehow, that's strangely easier.

Anyway, I started piano lessons at the age of 5, and I distinctly remember sitting on my parents' bed and throwing a fit at the news that I would begin piano lessons, because I just wanted to play outside and not take precious time away from playing. For most of my years of lessons I treated them like I was being punished. But a couple of weeks ago I sat at the familiar piano, the instrument of torture for all of those years but that was now something I realized I have missed for a long time, and I played because I WANTED to play.

And it was awesome. Mom and Dad, um, thanks for all of those lessons. I'm finally glad for them.

2. I produced a CD. I used the new (old) piano, and my Macbook. And I recorded and arranged a song that my sister wrote in highschool, which I put on a cd for my mom for Christmas. It's pretty genius. And it was like hanging out with my sister again. We used to spend hours on her Casio keyboards doing silly stuff. This project reminded me of that, only it meant something and doesn't sound bad. Plus, I'm pretty impressed with myself that after years of not doing anything musical, within the past few weeks I get a piano and make a CD.





I mean, it won't be exacly topping the charts in 2007. But, I did give myself a Grammy the other day. Just because I can.

I guess I did do something with my piano skills after all... despite not practicing as hard as I could have way back when. Cool.

3. I got DVR. And more than 7 channels. I mean, I've only had DVR for 2 days, and it has already changed my life. I don't know how I lived so long without it. And I also don't know how I've lived so long without Hogan Knows Best and I Love the 90s.

Hulk Hogan is a genius, even when he's not wrestling.

4. I got an ipod. And again, I don't know how I've gone so long without one. I've only had it a few days, but it is GENIUS. Even video on that tiny screen? I don't even care that it's so small because I'M WATCHING SCRUBS ON AN IPOD... IN MY BED... WITHOUT A TV IN THE ROOM!!!!

Genius.

So, as I sit here with my Macbook, DVR, ipod, piano, cellphone, and wireless internet - all of which enable me to satisfy just about any want, desire, or need without having to move more than a few feet in any one direction - I've realized that if I don't drink any water all day, I could probably go all day without having to get up from this spot on the couch. I've got more entertainment contained in one room of my house than I ever really need, all within arm's reach.

And then I realize that I've become something I've never really wanted to become - a tech junkie. I held off for years from upgrading my basic cable to something more than 7 channels. I mocked those who got DVR in lieu of the tried-and-true (and free) VCR that I have sworn by up until two days ago. I scorned those who needed 10 gigs of space on a portable music device to haul around every song they've ever owned in the off chance that they might want to listen to one particular song at any given moment. Seriously, I thought I was selling out when I got my 512 MB mp3 player last year.

It's all just so ridiculous. Why do we need all of these gadgets and bells and whistles? Yet suddenly, I don't know how I've lived without these modern conveniences. I've got 30 gigs of music space and I wonder if that will be enough.

But then I also realize that I don't know how I've lived without music I can make on my own, on an entirely non-portable, non-new, worn, well-used piano. Talk about space and available memory on all of my technology devices. The memories contained in that piano surpass all the available hard drive space and memory on all of my devices combined.

Funny how the old and new came together to make the CD I made for my mom for Christmas. And I carry the songs with me on my ipod to listen to whenever I want.

I can't believe my sister is on a cd. And on an ipod. She'd love it.

I don't really know where I'm going with all of this. I've just been struck at how the new fancy stuff that I've acquired over the past couple of weeks still doesn't quite compare to the value in our old family piano. I feel like my home is complete now. Something was definitely missing. And it wasn't the DVR.

If it's awhile before I blog again, or before you see me or hear from me again, don't worry. I'm just overstimulated in my home with all of my new (and old) gadgets.

C.T.

PS: Don't worry, the puppies are great. They discovered wrapping paper over Christmas and they had tons of fun with that "new gadget".