Mouchie's New Bedtime Ritual

Some of you may recall a really annoying habit of Mouchie's I posted about in the spring. For a while, I had an evening routine of piling 3 cardboard boxes in front of the front door to keep him from peeing there overnight/before breakfast. As the weather got hotter and he became less active, I stopped putting the boxes down, and for about 3 blissful weeks he didn't do it. But then he started again. And then he did it on the floor next to the boxes. Evidently, it's not just a springtime habit any more. We have come to the realization that the only solution is to keep him out of the space all night, every night, no matter what.

I felt bad the first night I shut him up in the laundry room. Everything he needs is in there--dry food, water, kitty carrier/bed, litterbox (and only bare floor), but I felt like I was shutting him in prison for the night. He wasn't too happy at first and tried to bolt for the door. But now that this has been the new routine for a month, he is very accepting of it. And it certainly has solved the problem. As a bonus, overnight yack attacks are confined to the bare floor, making clean-up much easier. Although once he barfed on top of the washing machine, necessitating both horizontal and vertical clean-up, but it was still easier than carpet.

A part of me still feels bad having to restrict his freedom. I had a dream once that I put him inside an empty plastic milk jug which I then put into the refrigerator. I spent the rest of the dream worrying that he couldn't breathe, and that I wouldn't be able to get him out through that narrow little opening.

Grown-Up Clothes

For all these years, I've gotten away with these three looks for every job I've ever had:

• Weekend/Casual
• Church/Wedding
• Concert/Evening Wear

Never in my life have I ever had occasion to wear a suit. I had a special audition yesterday where none of the above looks would cut it, so Wednesday I went to the Ann Taylor store and bought this outfit, minus the scarf. I even got the slacks hemmed 1-1/2 inches so they would be the perfect length. I certainly wasn't overdressed, and now I can think of all kinds of occasions I could wear this.

Ace

What a great feeling. For my second big math test, I took two days to study. I finished it in an hour and 10 minutes and got 100%!!

We have a project for class in the form of a short play, a murder mystery. The point is to use a formula and logarithms to figure out whodunit. It's not due until the 24th, but I (fortunately) started it on Monday. After 4 hours, my brain hurt. I know I did something wrong because when I plugged in the known times and cooling dead body temperatures that were given to us, it didn't add up with the formula I came up with. So I knew it wouldn't be right to derive the unknown time. My dreams that night were about frustration and failing to get it (not fun).

I was able to get a hint from Mike (my prof) in class, not enough to give me the answer but at least enough to know where I started going wrong. Tonight, in only an hour, I solved it!! (This equation is nothing like anything in the book, so required some thinking outside the box and some trial and error.) Boy, that sure does feel good.

MAAATH!

You know how sometimes a funny comic sticks in your mind for years? This one cracked us up when we first saw it in the Funny Times:


We started saying, "Darwin!" "E=MC squared!" "Chaos Theory!" and other assorted silliness, leering at each other at the dinner table, etc. Paul's favorite reference to this comic is, "Maaaath!"

Since June 10, I have been devoting a lot of time to my college algebra homework. The summer session crams 16 weeks worth of material into an 8-week period. That means for a 4-credit-hour class, I need to devote16 or more hours a week to homework and study time, as opposed to 8.

During the 4-week break between school sessions, did I spend any time whatsoever reviewing basic algebra concepts? Had I done any reviewing besides last year's 10 days devoted to improving my score on the math assessment test? Of course not! No one else in the class has gone 27 years since Algebra 2. I was a little overwhelmed by the pace at first, and had no idea where to start when the class was given an example problem to work out. Couldn't remember how to factor a polynomial to save my life. Uh-oh, I thought. Will it even be possible for me to get an A in this class?

By the end of the first week I was hitting the books for several hours a day most days. My math mind is officially back in shape now. When I'm working out a problem, time has no meaning. I occasionally look up at the clock in the middle of my homework, surprised to see that 2 hours have passed when it feels like 15 minutes. Paul will leave to teach his class, saying, "I see you're doing MAAATH!" and I'll still be at it when he comes home.

I have to stop no later than 11:30 pm though. Otherwise my brain is still racing and I can't calm down and go to sleep until after 2 am. My dreams have been full of graphs and functions and numbers. That means it's sinking in.

I spent about 7 hours studying for the first test (last Thursday). It really took that long. There is just so much information, like a foreign language I'm not quite fluent in. We had 2 hours to take the test, and I finished in an hour and 20 minutes. I felt pretty good about it. Today we got the tests back, and I got a 96 on it!

I sure like MAAATH a lot more than English Composition.

Finally!

Yesterday afternoon we finally were able to bring our new car home, as the check came on Friday. It's been 18 years since I've financed a car, and boy, how things have changed. It took us over two hours to apply for credit, get our credit checked, fill out paperwork, and swim through a mind-boggling array of extra options related to extended warranties, maintenance plans and various anti-theft coverage. Suffering from information overload, we said we would need to take a couple of days to talk it over as far as the extra stuff. I've always heard that extended warranty coverage is a ripoff, and I want the chance to do some online research so we can decide if it's a good use of money. We already own half of the car outright. Not as good as buying it with cash, but we think it's important to leave something in the savings account.

The car is beautiful. Paul let me be the one to drive it the 4 miles home, while he followed in the old car. It's so brand-spanking new, the odometer was still in the single digits. I drove like a little old lady, gently and carefully. Originally I had planned to drive it to my restaurant gig in North Royalton, where I was subbing for someone, but I hadn't added it to the insurance policy yet, and I just felt like it was tempting fate to drive it on the freeway in the pouring rain when I'm still learning my way around it. (I did have time to add it today, so we're free and clear to drive it now.)

We sure are a couple of cautious old farts. "So what's the first thing you did with your new car?"

"Well, we drove it home and then left it in the garage for 2 days." Well, better boring than sorry.

Car Purchase in Progress

We did get a chance to test drive the Fit last Tuesday evening. The dealer had one base model in stock in Tidewater Blue (our first color choice). It has a tiny, but zippy engine, and has the feel of a high-quality entry level vehicle, comparable to a new Civic but a little less low-riding. The only thing we don't like so much is the small view through the rear window. Compared to what we're used to, it's like looking through the small end of a telescope. Because of this, the blind spots are slightly bigger. Everything else about it is so much just what we want that we are willing live with that and rely a bit more on turning our heads and using the side mirrors.

They have installed the options we've asked for, a keyless entry system and a cargo cover for the back. The car is all ready to go. We're just waiting for the check from our investment savings account to be processed, which we will use as our down payment. Since this involved selling some securities, it's not exactly instant access to our money. (I sent the authorization form last Thursday morning and the check couldn't be processed until today.) Patience, patience. We are so fortunate that our schedules allow us to share my Civic without much inconvenience in the meantime.

Baby's First Bifocals

Lately I've noticed my reading focus is stating to waver. Last year, it only happened when wearing contacts (not glasses), but now it happens with the glasses, too. Last June, I had a little bifocal added to my prescription, but I didn't buy new glasses and let it slide another year. I knew it would just keep getting worse for a while anyway.

So last week I had my annual eye exam and sprung for the bifocals this time. It's the mildest prescription available (+100, sort of a training bra for bifocals), but I still decided on the progressive lenses. I don't want a stark line in the middle of my lenses. Not only is it ugly and granny-looking, but it makes it a lot harder to see! Add in anti-glare surface, anti-scratch coating, etc. and they set me back quite a bit, even with the 30% AAA discount.

Not to mention the frames. I tried on at least 10 frames. Didn't have a clue how they looked on me since I couldn't see, so the salesperson took pictures of me wearing them so I could at least have some idea how they look. Of course, the one I liked the best was the first one I tried on and the most expensive. Oh well, still cheaper than 2 years' worth of contacts. Here's a picture of my frames:

I had to wait 8 days (not exactly glasses in an hour--I think those days, like those of filing the 1040-EZ tax form, are now behind me forever). I just got them yesterday. It is much easier to read and do homework. The computer and reading music at the piano will take a little getting used to, since that's an intermediate distance. I can see clearly at all distances now (yay!) but to do so, now I have to tilt my head up and down until I'm looking through the appropriate part of the lenses. They're not that different, but it is noticeable. There is some distortion at the outer edges, so if I want to see something clearly to the side, I must turn my head. I have a little bit of a headache and it feels like I'm looking at the world underwater through a thick scuba mask.

We Need a New Car!

Paul, hurrying to get to his Aikido teaching last Sunday, had a fender bender for the first time in his life. No one was hurt and no air bags deployed, but his hood got crunched, grill destroyed and headlights shattered. Although the hood now wouldn't open, he was able to drive home. Fortunately, he still has collision coverage. He made an appointment for Monday morning with State Farm's authorized repair facility, which happens to be in walking distance and on the way to work. The estimated repair cost--$2200--sure isn't pretty, but we both agreed, you can't buy a replacement car as dependable as his for that.

Then came the bad news on Wednesday. State Farm declared his car a total loss since it's only worth about 3 grand. So now he has two choices: 1) surrender the title to State Farm and they will take possession of the car in exchange for a check of about $2700 or 2) keep the car, whose title is now officially invalid and follow whatever legal procedures necessary to get it reapproved by the state of Ohio. Basically, it was a choice between taking the money to put toward a new car or jumping through hoops, with no guarantee of success, for an 11-year-old car with 155,000 miles on it. Hmmmm.

It wasn't too difficult to decide that I would spend my (now copious) free time yesterday researching what is out there as far as economical choices for new or gently used cars. I haven't car shopped for 8 years. Prices certainly have gone up. If you want something that will be dependable for 10 years, $10K isn't enough anymore. I am happy with my 10-year-old Civic, though I do miss the hatchback for ease of transporting the occasional 3-dimensional large object (like a bike or a full-sized keyboard). Paul and I both want the same things in a new car, which made it really easy to narrow it down.

Requirements:

• Average fuel economy not below 30mpg. Even when gas was $1.00/gal, this was a non-negotiable for both of us. We've both driven subcompact gas-sippers for our entire adult lives, whether it was trendy or not.
• Long-term reliability for the lowest price possible. Minimum 10 years. We like not having a car payment. I haven't had one for 8 years and he hasn't had one for 7. You do have to spend some money to get a car that will last, but we'd like to keep it down. I love the idea of a hybrid, but it's just too expensive, and then you have to think about battery disposal and replacement costs someday, and I bet it's thousands. If you don't drive that many miles, it's just not worth it.
  
• A hatchback with space to carry bulky items would be my dream. But still a subcompact with high MPG.

Fortunately (in a way), there are only a few models out there that meet all of my criteria. I plowed through a lot of ads, specs, reviews and message board discussions and came up with a winner--the Honda Fit. After talking with Paul and sleeping on it, I feel even more confident today that this is what we want. We've scheduled our first dealership visit for late this afternoon. I have another one in the works, through AAA, early next week.

I hate the thought of having to spend $15-16K at a time we didn't choose to replace Paul's car, but quality up front saves money and headaches later. At least we can survive as a one-car household for weeks if we need to, since I am underemployed for the summer and he only needs the car when I don't.

I Am a Poor Multi-Tasker

I am one of those people who can't hold a conversation and do much of anything else at the same time. If someone's talking to me while I drive, I miss exits and make wrong turns. If I'm on the phone and someone in the room starts talking to me at the same time, all I hear is white noise--zero comprehension of either conversation.

It's the worst when I'm doing something I'm used to doing in solitude, like putting together my breakfast. I like to eat old-fashioned oatmeal with cinnamon, molasses and a big handful of walnuts every morning. I also enjoy the convenience of fixing and eating breakfast in less than 5 minutes so I can sleep as late as possible. Needless to say, this requires a system. Every Saturday morning, I cook up 7 servings of oatmeal, putting 6 of them in single-serving plastic containers for the rest of the week. All I have to do is empty a container's contents into a bowl, chop it into bite-sized pieces with a spoon (it tends to solidify), stick it in the microwave for 1 minute, and voila--instant breakfast.

Yes, I have noticed the uncanny resemblance that my daily molded plop of refrigerated oatmeal has to my cat Mouchie's breakfast. The main differences are that mine 1) smells better and 2) is a bigger portion.

Yesterday morning I was talking to Paul while rinsing out Mouchie's dish and wiping it out with a napkin. I got out my oatmeal, and, I kid you not, came this close to plopping it into Mouchie's dish. Would have done it if Paul hadn't stopped me!

Sephora Splurge! (Girly Stuff)

After rehearsal, I rode my bike out to Beachwood Place to blow the rest of my tips at the Sephora store. I was already planning to get Philosophy's Microdelivery Peel, since I'm almost out. I love that stuff--I've been using it for about 3 1/2 years and it really makes a huge difference. Very pricey ($65!) but it lasts over a year. I decided to count that as money I would have spent anyway (rationalize, rationalize) so I spent the rest of my cash stash on some new, sparkly eye shadow (I got #926, "sparkly beige"--yes, even on a splurge, I'm practical!), a sealer to make any powder eye shadow waterproof, and a little set of nice shadow applicators. I'm really picky about makeup colors. They have to be not too orange, not too brown, not too blue/purple, and not overpower my coloring. That was fun!

The Most Convenient Flat Tire Ever

I've been saving my cash tips from Stages since January,and I was originally going to blow all $137 of it at the Sephora store, but decided instead to visit the bike store out in South Euclid to get some gear that would help me feel safer when riding on the 99.99999999% of Cleveland roads without bike lanes.

I got out of rehearsal early last night and rode out Mayfield road to the store (it's about 6 miles from our house). Strangely, there was no bike rack to park when I got there, so I locked it up to a stair railing, a rather awkward enterprise. I was inside, ready to buy a white mesh high-visiblity vest, some white reflective tape for my (black) backpack, and a rearview mirror that needed to be installed on my left handlebar.

When asked if I were "handy," I admitted I was not and that I would be happy to pay them the $6.50 installation fee. So we went to retrieve my bike. The guy noticed my rear tire was almost flat, much to my disbelief (I had just pumped them up), but lo and behold, it certainly was. Evidently, I had run over and embedded a metal spike right through the tire on my way there, and it was (of course) in the back wheel, the one with all those fun gears. Lucky, lucky me! Of course, this is guaranteed to happen sooner or later, and I can't think of a more convenient time it could have happened. They changed and replaced it while I waited. I suppose I should learn how to do that myself, since it won't always be this convenient.

I feel a lot safer now, and I still have $50 left over to spend at Sephora.

Yess!

I did it--just found out--I got straight A's. Yippee!! And in the English course I have the full breakdown online--an average of 96%. I worked so hard for that. I swear, 16th-century counterpoint was easier for me. I'm also thrilled to get an A in accounting--it is, after all, my major. Here's my progress so far: 16 credit hours earned. 4.00 GPA. After the summer, when I'll finally take that College Algebra class in person, I will have earned 20 credit hours out of 72 needed--slightly more than 1/4 of the way through. My goal: 4.0 all the way.

Needless to say, I have been celebrating all week with a spectacular spree of non-productivity. I went to the public library to check out books to read just for fun (I've read about 500 pages since Monday) and a daytime trip to the Cedar Lee to see Note by Note, the movie about the making of one particular Steinway concert grand piano from start to finish. Making a piano is extremely intricate--it's all handmade and takes about a year. The craftspeople interviewed took great pride in their work. Interspersed were segments of pianists, from concert artists to students, speaking with passion on what they seek in a piano and on how music connects people and takes them out of themselves. I loved it. There were only about five other people in my 2:15 p.m. Monday showing. It was fun to chat afterwards. The movie only showed for a week, and I'm glad I didn't miss it.

Well, speaking of piano, it's time for me to finally get off my butt and start cleaning up my piano arrangement of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik for the Cleveland School of Dance year-end performance that is 8 days away. I don't have the excuse of homework any more.

At Semester's End

Hi, I'm back.

Wow, has this been a tough month. But school is almost over--tonight I have my accounting final and Monday my final term paper for English is due, and that's it. I feel relaxed now because I'm ahead of the game.

For accounting, I've never missed a class, never been late with a homework assignment, participated in class probably more than anyone else in the class, and spent 6 hours studying for the final yesterday so I could let the information sink in overnight and then just review today. Underemployment certainly has its upside--my job at Case is over until the end of August, which gives me my mornings and early afternoons back, so I've had luxuriously huge amounts of time to devote to schoolwork just when all the final projects come due.

Last week wasn't too fun, as I spent at least 20 hours (not that I actually counted) cranking out the "rough draft" of my English term paper, which was due Sunday. I put that in quotes because I am almost fundamentally incapable of doing anything in rough draft form, at least if anyone else is going to see it. I go straight from nothing to final polished product. In this online class, I know that not only the professor but all of my fellow students can read and comment on everything I write, so I always want it to be my best. And in making it my best, of course what happened is that I finished it. It's even over the minimum page limit already so I won't have to add material just to make it long enough. I'm sure I'll be changing something for my final version, but I bet it won't take 20 hours.

I really, really want to get straight A's. I've worked so hard.

Not a Pretty Seasonal Transition

I have to say, this is one of my least favorite times of year. The weather mostly sucks. We still have a few filthy mounds of snow from the storm I wrote about three weeks ago. Wet, mud, and/or slush seem to be the most prominent features of "spring" so far. I thought surely the crocuses must be up by now, and took a walk up Hessler Street to check them out the other day. Not a one. Not even the greens yet. Just a few hardy snowdrops. Usually the crocuses are about spent by now and the daffodils are about to explode. It looks like the snowiest March on record has slowed down our already typically late start to spring.

The semester is almost two thirds over--only 6 weeks to go. I am enjoying the Financial Accounting class, but I have to say, the next College Composition class I take will not be the honors one. I am doing extremely well--my grade is a 95.77 so far--but, boy, do I ever have to work for it. I am still a slow writer. The assignments are getting harder and harder, so I never get any faster. The last one was the worst. I had to read several esoteric literary criticisms on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, most of which were so dense I had to read them all 5-6 times before I could even begin to understand their arguments. Then I had to pick one and write an essay on my take on their arguments, backed up with plenty of evidence from multiple sources. Ack. Easter was not fun. In fact, as Borat would say, writing it was major "pain in my assholes," as I described it to Paul. As a small comfort, my classmates also had a hard time with it and we were able to commiserate online. I actually did very well on mine, finally scoring a perfect 10 for the first time in this class. The discussion afterwards was actually exhilarating, and I made a really good comment in support of the value of literary criticism. Prof. Panza quoted my comment in one of his online announcements to the class, which made me feel pretty great.

Things are getting better. Sure signs of spring:

• I was able to ride my bike to church today, since it was above 35 and not raining!
• It's not pitch-black at 8 pm anymore.
• Spring concert rehearsal season is in full swing,

and

• Mouchie has taken to peeing on the floor in front of the front door again.

Ugh, ugh, ugh. As if "yack season*" weren't bad enough. I have no idea why he feels so compelled to do this. Every. Single. Spring. It's not marking behavior. He was neutered at 4 months, and it's only on the floor (not the wall). We actually use the front door multiple times a day, so if he thinks I'll give in and put another litterbox there, well, sorry, ain't happening. I've tried tinfoil and a carpet runner with the pointy side up. Supposedly, cats don't like walking on those surfaces, but he just brazenly pees on it. It only makes my clean-up job harder. Pet repellents and "training aids," both the clove- or citrus-scented organic and the nuclear-waste chemical varieties, have absolutely no effect on him. Even serving his food there won't stop him from peeing less than 12 inches away from the food dish.

Last year, I bought a heavy rubber front porch mat from the hardware store that had such a strong chemical smell it almost knocked us out. That really worked, and I thought I had fixed this for good. Apparently, the smell has faded to the point of losing its repellent power. There must be something about the changing light or the sound of the birds that brings out this lovely behavior. He only does it in the early morning before I get up to feed him. I wish I could booby-trap the area to dump water and/or make a nasty noise only when HE enters it, not when we do.

One thing that did work for 3 days last week: I put up a cheap wooden baby gate in front of the stairs, but that's not all. He can leap over it easily enough, so I got a large blanket out and draped it over the railing, clipping it in place to make the barrier too high and deep for him to penetrate. He foiled me yesterday morning, though. All the papers from the ledge over the stairs were scattered in the stairwell by the front door, and there was the puddle of pee. My barrier was untouched. The little stinker had used his acrobatic skills (which I had sorely underestimated) to leap down and then up several feet because he really wanted to pee there. This morning, Paul got up at 7:30 and put him out on the deck, which solved the problem for today, but only works if the weather is decent. I am running out of ideas.

Maybe I should go to the hardware store and buy a big-ass piece of thin plywood, big enough to reach from the top of the stairs to to door, and just lay it down over the entire area at night. If the entire surface is at a 45-degree angle,with no toeholds, may that will render it sufficiently unpleasant for him. I'd hate to have to shut him in the downstairs family room all night, every night, but that's the next step if this doesn't work, and if I do that, he might find some even more unpleasant way of showing us what he thinks of that idea. Any of you cat people have any advice?

*Yack season: that lovely time of year when we shed our winter coats and leave a lovely upchucked surprise on the floor (carpet only) several times a week.

"Spring" Break

I just finished my eighth essay and quiz for English, so at long last feel entitled to enjoy a well-deserved (and much needed) spring break for an entire week. I've been using this blog as a reward every time I finish one, but last week I was just so sick of writing. I felt as mentally constipated as if I had eaten nothing but white bread for a month, metaphorically speaking. Monday I had a really hard test in accounting that literally made my brain ache afterwards. I am so ready for a break!

So here I am, sitting at home on this early March day, listening to the sweet strains of someone's snow blower....or is it the wheels of their subcompact spinning in futility, as they attempt to drive down our impassable street? You see, we are in the middle of a blizzard, the worst snowstorm Cleveland has seen in 15 years (so I hear). We have at least a foot of snow on the ground, with drifts of up to three feet, and it's not supposed to stop until sometime late tonight. Winter is getting really old. It doesn't help that this is the third (and worst) storm we've had in a space of 12 days.

Needless to say, I didn't have to go to work this morning. I don't even have my Stages gig tonight--the restaurant is closed because the Cleveland Playhouse canceled its performances tonight. The whole world is closed today--even the libraries and banks!

Wanna see our lovely weather warning?

HEAVY SNOW WILL CONTINUE THROUGH THE REMAINDER OF THE AFTERNOON
HOURS...WITH BLIZZARD CONDITIONS AT TIMES. SNOWFALL RATES IN
HEAVIER SNOW BANDS WILL CONTINUE TO APPROACH AN INCH PER HOUR.
WINDS GUSTING TO 30 MPH AT TIMES WILL CAUSE VISIBILITIES TO DROP
BELOW ONE QUARTER OF A MILE ALONG WITH CONSIDERABLE BLOWING AND
DRIFTING OF SNOW. THIS...IN COMBINATION WITH ROADS THAT HAVE NOT
BEEN PLOWED WILL MAKE FOR NEAR IMPASSABLE CONDITIONS.

I went outside the front of our house to take a couple of pictures. Here's the view down our street:

I am so glad Paul canceled his classes today, and neither of us has to drive anywhere. Even the SUVs are sliding and fishtailing all over the place.

Here's the front of our house. That's Tom on the left. He may be shoveling, but I wouldn't dream of bothering until it's all over.


So I've lost a day's pay today. It doesn't really bother me. I have no control over it, and sometimes life is out of your control. It's times like this that I am so glad we live close to everything. We live within 2 miles of 3 grocery stores, and 3 miles from church. I may need to walk to church tomorrow! Fortunately, yesterday I had the foresight to stop at the Food Co-Op to pick up a few ingredients for broccoli macaroni and cheese so we can eat well tonight without having to go anywhere. Stay warm, everyone!

Digging Deep: The Semiotics of Snow Shoveling

Sounds like an essay title, doesn't it? I bet you can tell what I've been spending a lot of my time doing. Much as I bitch and moan about having to grind out a new essay every single week, to be posted online for all in the class to read and critique (so it better not suck), I have been getting a lot out of the class. Even my everyday thoughts are going in new directions. We've spent a month analyzing the semiotics of popular culture (in other words, the underlying meanings beneath things), so I find myself thinking about these things during my everyday life.

Consider snow shoveling. On the surface, it's usually thought of as just a (somewhat annoying, time-consuming) chore that it would be nice not to have to do or have to pay someone else to do. (Here's where my thoughts on consumption come in.) I hate paying someone else to do it. I remember when I first moved here, someone with a shovel rang our doorbell and offered to shovel the driveway. I said, "Sure," thinking he was a staff member of the town house association and it was included in our fee. When he finished and asked for money, I was kind of annoyed at myself for assuming. If I had known I would have to pay, I would have just said no thanks.

Every winter since, enterprising people, mostly young men, have tromped up our steps (packing down the snow with their boots, making it harder for me to shovel it later) to ring the doorbell and ask if we wanted shoveling. I got tired of either saying no or pretending I wasn't home.

Clearly, it was time to make a sign so they wouldn't bother us. It would be great if the sign would also discourage aggressive sales people and religious proselytizers (who annoy me even more). I fantasized about saying something like, "No selling. No snow shoveling. No evangelizing. Don't even ask. It's a standing 'no' and will always be a 'no.'" But that just seemed a tad too unwelcoming sounding to post on our front door, so I settled for a polite, "Please No Soliciting."

Unfortunately, the doorbell just keeps on ringing. Now I just find it annoying that either 1) people don't bother to look and read it, or 2) they don't know the meaning of the word "soliciting." I have been known to (politely) come down to answer the door, call their attention to the sign and explain that we don't want to be bothered, even though I may be seething with annoyance inside.

Before I got so busy, I used to have tons of time in the middle of the day to preemptively get the shoveling done before the entrepreneurs started their rounds. I actually like doing it; 1) it's functional fitness in action and 2) I can get a workout and avoid paying money at the same time--what's not to love?

Our next-door neighbor, Tom, is sometimes home in the middle of the day. (He's maybe in his mid-thirties with a high-powered wife and two little kids.) I think he feels rather strongly that shoveling is men's work, and he thinks it's odd that I'm the one doing it (and not Paul). On those few occasions that we're shoveling at the same time, he'll say something like,"What are you, Wonder Woman or something? I never see him doing it." I always explain that I consider it to be part of my fitness regimen and I'm happy to do it because I'm the one who has the time, but he'll say something like that every time without fail, as if we never had the conversation.

I think my conscientiousness brings out his competitive instincts. If I do it by mid-afternoon, his is done by 5 pm. If I don't have time for a day or two, oddly enough, he'll be content to let it wait at least 24 hours. It snowed on Thursday last week and I didn't have time to deal with it until Saturday afternoon. Tom had done his by Friday morning. We decided to let him revel in his victory. Paul and I find this dynamic endlessly amusing. As Paul said, "Well, now I can't ever do it because then we would be playing appropriate gender roles." We both agree that wouldn't be any fun.

What a Card

We celebrated Valentine's Day in our customary way. I made heart-shaped cookies with strawberry-rhubarb jam in the middle, as I have for all of our Valentine's Days since we've been together. No mere homework was going to prevent me from finding the time! (A couple of snow days last Monday and Tuesday, a gift from the universe, sure helped make it easier.)

Paul made a Wednesday trip to the West Side Market for fresh flowers and salmon. On Thursday evening, Valentine's Day, I came home to find him cooking Andrew Weill's recipe for easy poached salmon, the first thing he ever cooked for me almost six years ago. We dined on my heirloom china by candlelight, listening to the same Sinatra CD that was our soundtrack on our first Valentine's Day five years ago, when he proposed. We then watched a movie on DVD (cleverly combining my required movie viewing for this week's essay with the pleasure of watching a romantic comedy with my sweetie) and then went to bed early. Predictable? Perhaps, but we wouldn't have it any other way.

We don't do gifts on demand (Christmas, birthdays, Valentine's Day, etc.). Why not just opt out of that tangled web of obligation, pressure, and analysis of what-is-this-person-trying-to-say-by-
choosing-to-give-me-this-particular-object? I always tell Paul that he's got a lifetime A+ from me :-) No need to continually pass more tests and jump through hoops just so that I might deign to "renew his license" in the In Karin's Good Graces Club.

He did surprise me that evening with a really sweet card that had a great story. The story just makes it. Let me set the scene for you. It's Wednesday night, February 13, in the holiday/seasonal aisle at the Rite-Aid Drug Store. The red and pink bags and heart-shaped boxes of candy appear as though a natural disaster has just passed through, followed by looters and scavengers bent on survival.

The shelf of Valentine's Day cards is in a similar state. Now we know the card selection at the drugstore is never the greatest to begin with, but the pickings are mighty slim by Valentine's Eve. If you limit yourself to cards meant to be given to a female significant other, your options are truly pathetic.

In one corner, you have the "humorous" cards. This can communicate such tender sentiments as "You're a saint for putting up with my habit of [leaving dirty socks on the floor/laying around on the couch, belching Dorito breath, bellowing like a walrus at the game/insert other clueless, boorish, "male Neanderthal stereotype" behavior here] and once a year I'll tell you how much I love you because Hallmark expects me to." Be still my heart.*

Alternatively, there are the ones with pages of purple poetry in Italic Script. At least the guy is trying, but it's not like he would ever say such things if they weren't pre-printed. It's more about what he thinks she wants to hear.

Paul, realizing this wasn't looking promising, expanded his field of card candidates to the ones in the "To My Husband" category. (This explained why the back story was necessary.) He was just looking for one that was sincere and direct. I guess the card industry thinks that only a woman would want to give a card that simply says "I Love You" without a joke to diffuse the awkwardness. The inside of the card says, "Saying it a million times still wouldn't be enough. Happy Valentine's Day to My Wonderful Husband Karin! We laughed a lot when he told the story. It's really sweet and I'm a lucky woman. :-)

*What is it with American wives' seeming obsession with their men leaving dirty socks on the floor? Even Michelle Obama mentions it as one of Barack's annoying habits. Articles like this really bug me too. Are most married people in America really relating to their spouses at this level?

Too Much of a Perfectionist?

I've just had a hellishly busy week. Since last Monday morning, I have put in the following homework and study time:

• 4 hours studying for accounting exam
• 8 hours over 3 days on accounting homework (having to do it in Excel, as opposed to pencil and paper, takes considerably longer)
  
• 3.5 hours watching 2 out of the 3 movies I need to use as sources for this week's English essay
• 2 hours reading and studying the reference essays for last week's essay
• 2 hours mulling over last week's essay assignment, figuring out what to say, and looking up more citation sources online
• 5 hours writing last week's essay
• 1.5 hours reading everyone else's essays and essay responses on the online message board
• 2.5 hours composing my own (required) essay responses

Let's see, that adds up to...
28.5 hours spent on schoolwork alone, not counting 3 hours commuting time and 4 hours class time for attending my accounting class. Holy crap. Put it all together, and that's more time than I spent on my paid work.

I like getting A's. (Not surprisingly, I'm getting A's so far in both classes.) I did have time to have somewhat of a life for 3 of the last 7 nights, although it was a challenge which involved staying up until at least 1 :30 am much of the time. At the rate I'm going, it will probably take me at least 3 1/2 more years, including summers, to finish the degree. Is this kind of a life worth it for such a long time?

Yesterday at church, my friend Joy said I was too much of a perfectionist. She had learned for herself, after hard experience, that it was better to just pass the classes so you could have a life. No prospective employer, she says, will care what your grades were. B's are good enough. But I haven't reached the point of being willing to settle just yet. I'm not trying to juggle this with motherhood, as she did. (I can't imagine motherhood being any easier than my life right now.) This is hard but not impossible. Paul is really supportive, even though it means we have less time together in the short term.

4-Eyes 4-Ever

I think my contact lens-wearing days are over. I opened and put in a new pair 3 weeks ago (January 11). Usually they're really comfortable for the first half of the month, but that day my eyes must have been especially dry or something. Add to that the fact that, when wearing my contacts, reading glasses are no longer optional.

Advantages to Contacts

• Vanity
• Unencumbered peripheral vision
• No fingerprints, sweat, grime, fogging up

Disadvantages to Contacts

• Dry eyes are uncomfortable
• Dryness results in sometimes blurry vision, even distance vision
  
• Pain in the butt factor: Cleaning, storage, making sure I always have supplies on me, etc.
• I have to wear reading glasses. In other words, I can't see! Since, oh, I don't know, 90% of what I do involves close focus, why should I stick something in my eye if I'm going to be wearing glasses anyway?

Hmm. It seems the disadvantages significantly outweigh the advantages. I didn't even make it through the whole day on January 11 with the contacts. At about 3 pm, I took them out and didn't put them back in until this morning. They didn't even last an hour today--too uncomfortable. I don't think I'll even be wearing them for special occasions.

It's time to embrace my status as a proudly out, visually-challenged person. :-) I'm blind! I'm middle aged! I'm a nerd! Why present a false facade of normality anymore? Besides, I think these glasses are cute.

Looong Day at the Piano

It looks like I'm now on the regular rotation at Stages. They want me every weekend! But two nights there back to back last weekend had the result of an achy back and glazed eyes staring at the computer writing my essay until 1 am both nights. Once in a while, okay, but this is no way to live! So this time, when offered both nights for the next month, I said I'd be delighted to do one night each weekend. So much more sane! I finished this week's essay last night so I don't have to work on it tonight at all.

Good thing, too. Here is my day today:

9:00-11:30 am--my usual two ballet classes at CSD , only an hour earlier than usual

1:45-5:00--back to CSD to play for the audition for the summer program at the School of American Ballet. If last year is any indication, 70 students will show up from all over the region, and it will be fast-paced and required me to be at my most quick-thinking.

I am then scheduled at Stages from 5:00-8:00. Yes, this means I will be late (which I hate). And I won't have time to eat anything save something portable I can inhale behind the wheel of my stick shift while hurtling down Carnegie Avenue (likewise).

Just think, I decided to go back to school because the jobs were thinning out and now look! Well, it does beat not having enough to do.

Prune Juice for my Writer's Block

It's only the third week of school, and it's already hard. I'm taking Honors English Composition and having to write an essay every week, each one longer and better than the last. Do you know how long it's been since the last time I wrote an essay? About 25 years. 22 years since I've written any sort of term paper whatsoever. For over half my life, my skills, though still decent, have atrophied and slowed down like the heart muscle of a couch potato. Right now, it feels like I'm trying to run a mile when I should be starting with a walk around the block.

I'm just whining, really. I'm doing just fine, getting an A so far. It's just taking me forever to do the writing. A three credit-hour class is supposed to take about six hours of study and homework time per week, and this one is taking me at least twelve. We're writing on the semiotics of popular culture, which I really enjoy. I do have something to say--it just takes me a while to figure out what it is. Then I have to make it articulate, find and correctly cite references to back up my views, and tie the whole thing together coherently.

Three weeks (and three essays) in, I have increased my speed to about 100 words per hour. It's still a mighty effort, and I still feel mentally constipated, but even in casual conversation, my vocabulary seems sharper and I feel a little bit more articulate. Things are starting to "move along." :-)

Funny Post About a Piano-Shaped Object

We pianists have the mixed blessing of not having to lug our instrument all over kingdom come to do a job. I say "mixed" because sometimes you have to deal with some exceptionally crappy instruments and just make the best of it. Slightly out of tune (or even moderately out of tune), I can deal with. Some things I've had to work around:

• Sticking keys that don't release once you've played them. If you're lucky, the key might bounce back if you hit it sharply.
• No damper pedal. Can you say "legato fingering?"
• A key that, when depressed, sticks together with several of its neighbors who all come along for the ride. This happened to me during a performance in high school (it was in a mall and no one was listening, but still!) Fortunately it was all in the high register, so I just didn't use that octave for the rest of the performance.
• And of course, the most common: one particular nasty out-of-tune note, the aural equivalent of moldy leftovers crawling with orange and green maggots and fungus. If I don't have a tuning wrench with me, as is usually the case, I just either 1) don't play anything that includes that note or 2) transpose everything to a key that doesn't include that note. This requires lightning-quick mental acrobatics and music theory geekiness, which keeps me on my toes, and isn't always successful.

One of my Windsong friends pointed me to this funny blog post by the pianist for the Bread and Roses Feminist Singers. She referred to this Piano From Hell as "the piano incarnation of Florence Foster Jenkins." Enjoy--it's hilarious!

( Go to Bread and Roses MySpace page and click on the blog entry called "In the Loosest Sense of the Word." Sorry about this indirect link. It wouldn't load when I tried to post it the normal way.)

High Notes

I played for Windsong's winter concert this past Saturday, and we got a fabulous review on coolcleveland.com! Check it out--it's near the bottom of this page. One of our singers thanked the reviewer, and passed me along this excerpt from a follow-up email, which made my day:

Well, Karin is a treasure for anyone! She really understands collaborative piano, which all too few pianists really do!

It made my day. Besides, I just had to brag a little. ;-)

I also landed a temporary gig at Stages Restaurant at the Cleveland Playhouse, which just happens to be a 5-minute walk from our house. I play from 5-8 pm for the next 2 Friday and Saturday nights. My first night was last Friday. I had to put together a 3-hour playlist of mostly non-classical music, which took some hours, but now it's done and written down. I would have been lost without it, I can tell you! I actually have more than 3 hours' worth of music, probably 2/3 standards and show tunes. The piano there is beautiful and in tune, two things I never take for granted. I had a really good time, got lots of compliments from the diners, and forgot to take breaks! (I've got to remember to pace myself, though--my back and brain were pretty fatigued at the end of the evening and the whole next day!)

Who knows--maybe it will become a semi-regular gig. That would be great!

Holidays in Portland

It's always "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas" around here, as Paul and I have 2 birthdays, Christmas, and New Years all in a 12-day period. We had an evening, 5 jam-packed days, and a morning in Portland with my family. It was mostly a really lovely visit, and for once nobody got sick (at least so far).

Memorable moments:

• Going to the NikeTown store to try on shoes with Eric and Rusty, who had given me a "design your own" gift card. What a fun idea! Wanna see what my future trainers will look like? They have a very girly color scheme! :=)



• Mom's delicious soups! She had 3 kinds: squash (with a nice kick to it), ham and bean, and chicken noodle. She and Ron hosted a soup supper and invited Dad, Becky and Hannah. With Eric and Rusty, Paul and me, it was a full table, but we all fit.



• Playing the bowling game on Hannah's brand new Wii with Hannah, Dad and Paul. I never play video games, so expected to suck, but I was pretty good and actually won!



• Making candy cane cookies and watching "It's a Wonderful Life" with Dad, Hannah, Becky and Paul



• Snowshoeing on Mt. Hood in a winter wonderland of snow that was almost warm enough to melt.
  

• Becky's car's troubles stranding some of us in a restaurant for 3 hours waiting for a tow that never came. Fortunately our group had 3 cars and Gene came back to get us.
  
• My birthday morning, low key, the only time I played the piano all week. Funny how when I don't see dancers I have a hard time thinking of things to play! Actually felt a bit self-concious as Dad and Hannah recorded me on their respective video cameras while sightreading. I was still playing when Mom came over to pick me up. I was sightreading one of Hannah's requests, a beautiful song her youth choir will be singing. I can't get it out of my mind. You can see it in this video.
  
• Seeing Betsy, Tim, Annie & Mike and meeting Annie's young kids for the first time at her open house for the christening of her baby daughter Katherine. My "birthday cake" was a silver bowl full of chocolate truffles with one long, skinny candle sticking out. Loved it.


• We went to the christening service a really cool jazz evening service with first rate jazz musicians. Haven't been to a Christian service in years, (opted out of reciting the Nicene creed along with the congregation) but felt pretty comfortable and was glad we went.


• Afterwards we met my old friend Bob Litt and his wife Sonya at a wonderful Mexican restaurant for excellent, adventurous food and margaritas.


• Rediscovering the "time capsule" box of my old treasures that has been lost in Mom's rafters for 25 years, which includes tons of old pictures and every diary I kept from ages 13-20. I mailed it to myself and it should get here by next Wednesday. I read one of the diaries and dreamt that I was in eighth grade again.


• Lunch with Dietrich and his bride Lisa. This was great fun, as the essence of Dietrich has hardly changed in the 30 years I've known him. Lisa was really nice and down to earth. It was fun to hear the story of how they met (skinny-dipping while camping at a state fair!) We hung out for 3 hours and even had a little photo session:
  

• A nice, quiet New Year's Eve hanging out with Mom & Ron watching the New York Philharmonic on TV. When Pink Martini came on at 11:30, Paul and I were inspired to do a rhumba and a cha-cha on the living room rug, much to Mom's delight! What a great band.