A Cautionary Tale for Those Who Keep a Messy Office (Like Me!)

I finally spent about an hour and a half going through the 16 months' worth of old mail, catalogs, rejects from the printer, schoolwork, check stubs, and various other detritus. For the first time in ages, I can see both the carpet and my desktop. It sure is nice! That's the good news.

I had weeks during the winter break from work and school that I could have done this. But of course I didn't. Why now? Well, it's funny you should ask. Earlier in the week, I extracted a few pieces of music from my vast pile of sheet music to play for this Sunday's church service, and, as usual, brought them upstairs to my office so I could copy the titles and composers into an e-mail so they could be listed in the Order of Service. At least, I thought I brought them upstairs.

The week got busy. My online class, Business Strategies, started. I added blizzards of syllabus and PowerPoint printouts to the ankle-deep mess on the floor. I accepted a job as rehearsal pianist for the Bedford High musical, Guys and Dolls. Must print out the rehearsal schedule, contact info, Google Map to the school, etc. There are tons of papers all over the place related to my Treasurer duties at the church--financial statements, board meeting paperwork, etc--in several separate piles. I suppose I ought to get to that and stop procrastinating, I thought.

It's funny how well I can adapt, to a point, to navigating in a mess. I rarely spend more than a couple of minutes looking for a particular piece of paper before finding it. But then there comes that one time that the thing you're looking for, in this case, my music for Sunday, seems to have disappeared into a parallel universe. Couldn't find it before work this morning. Oh, well, I thought, I'll find it this afternoon.

But I couldn't. Really, I went through everything, even the paper recycling box. The horrible thought occurred to me: what if I had mistakenly dumped it into the recycling that I already took out and got rid of? I looked at the playlist I had e-mailed to the church office. Had I unintentionally memorized any of it from the last time I played it? How well could I fake it, if necessary? Most of it was fairly obscure ragtimes and fiddle tunes. How noticeable would it be if I had to make up large sections of it? Or would it be better to just pick something else and make an announcement? Not that anyone would notice the difference--or would they?

I didn't have any memory of putting it back in the tattered plastic library bag where I keep all of my xeroxed copied music, but I looked there, since I had now exhausted every other alternative. It wasn't in the top of the pile. But seven or eight pieces down, there it was. I heaved a great sigh of relief.

I guess the moral of the story is: Don't let the layer of papers become such a permanent part of your office floor that the cat walks on it and even naps on it because he thinks it's part of the floor.

A Shiver Up My Spine (Not the Good Kind)

Winter is making its second grand entrance in less than a week here along the Lake Erie shore. It's been snowing for at least 24 hours straight, with a nasty wind averaging at least 35 mph. The wind has a good side: it blows the snow off our driveway as fast as it can fall, so I haven't had to do any shoveling. However, the downside is that the wind chill factor is about -11 F. Though our house is fairly new and holds heat well, that wind just seemed to penetrate its icy fingers right through our walls earlier today.

Throughout the morning, as I was reviewing my notes for my Financial Management final, the room seemed to be getting colder and colder. I was already wearing my L. L. Bean fleece pj's, which are usually toasty enough to be more than adequate when I bump the heat up to 66, as I often do when I'm home during the day. But my hands were icy and I couldn't feel my toes even with socks on.

So I put on my heavy robe over the pj's and a second layer of socks before I took the exam. Gotta love those online classes on a day like this! After acing the exam (yes!) and farting around on my favorite websites for a while, I thought, hey, I'll do a cardio workout--that ought to warm me up. I opened the bedroom door to get my workout wear and was practically bowled over by the crypt-like draft blasting out of there. The thermometer said 52 degrees! It's always freezing in there during the winter, especially on windy days, but this was lower than I'd ever seen it.

I went downstairs to check the thermostat: 60 degrees. That's funny, I thought. It seems like the furnace isn't even on. I went down to the utility room, and sure enough, it was eerily quiet. My mind flashed back to a time in the summer when the air conditioning seemed to be malfunctioning, and wouldn't respond no matter what we did. It turned out that Mouchie the cat had bumped the master switch to the "off" position hours before. (I really wonder who thought it was a good idea to install it 2 feet above the floor level.)

Today, the switch was in its usual "up" position, but I thought, maybe turning it off and on will "reboot" the furnace. I did that, and, dramatically, the furnace roared to life, followed by the fan. I had fixed it! That's a little weird, but whatever. And then, exactly 15 minutes later, it stopped. All afternoon, I kept running down there to reboot it, which brought the house to an anemic 61 degrees. I had the gas fireplace on for about 7 hours, which at least kept the family room warm, but I knew something was seriously wrong. The bedroom was now down to a bone-chilling 45 degrees! How on earth were we going to sleep tonight?

When Paul got home, we looked up furnace troubleshooting tips online. We looked up the phone number of the heating and cooling company that does our maintenance in case we had to call them tomorrow. He went outside into the arctic blast with a flashlight to see if the outside vent was coated in ice or something--nope. It just kept getting colder and colder. We started retreating into ourselves like turtles. Well, I did, anyway.

Paul finally started checking the tubes that vented water from the humidifier, after jostling one around, water just started gushing from it, as if it had been pent up in a reservoir. It had been pinched near the bottom, leaving the water nowhere to go. After one false cycle, the furnace has been functioning normally for an hour and a half now. I think (hope) he solved the problem.

Here's what we think happened. Although Mouchie hadn't flipped the master switch this time, the chain of events that led up to this is still his fault. About 3 weeks ago, when I was eating my lunch at home, I heard a huge crashing noise, followed by the pinging of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of tiny pebble-like objects. Something was clearly amiss down in the utility room.

As I came down the stairs, the overpowering smell of dry catfood overwhelmed me. Mouchie, hiding behind the couch in full freak-out mode, shot up the stairs as soon as he saw me. I had a few choice words upon entering the room. He had knocked over a newly-opened 15-pound bag of dry cat food from the top shelf. It weighed more than he did--don't ask me how he had the strength--and absolutely exploded upon impact dumping little pellets of cat food everywhere. And I mean everywhere. All over the top of the washing machine and dryer. behind them. Inside them, even though their doors weren't open. On top of (and in) the litter box. (Guess I should be thankful it had a cover over it.) In every dust-bunny- and cobweb-infested nook and cranny in the entire room. Including, of course, all of the nooks and crannies of the furnace and its myriad pipes and tubes.

I was on my hands and knees for at least a half and hour with the hand broom and dustpan getting it all. We had had ants before (who love dry cat food), so I made an effort to get every last kibble. It was like hunting for cockroaches; you see one, you know there are 10,000 more just out of plain sight. Honestly, that's what I was thinking when I pulled the flimsy little white pipes aside only to see at least 200+ kibbles way under there. I had to get them all! As you can imagine, I was kind of pissed at this point, and I took it out on those poor pipes, shoving their ends back in their little hole none too carefully.

Fast forward to today, the first day it was cold enough for the furnace to be on continuously for hours and hours at a time. The water from the humidifier just couldn't drain fast enough, and when its reservoir stayed full, it automatically shut off the furnace. Now that it can drain, problem solved. It sure is a relief that we (and our pipes!) won't freeze overnight, and that we are spared the ordeal of an emergency service call on a day that I'm sure plenty of others would be ahead of us in line.

Almost Busted

Last night on my way home from class, I stopped for gas at a very well-lighted Shell station right before the freeway entrance. Toodling along on I-71, listening to a mix CD, I noticed the traffic slowing as we approached the municipality of Linndale. Linndale is a tiny community, encompassing only a few hundred yards of the freeway, and is universally known as a notorious speed trap. The general impression is that nailing speeders is their primary means of municipal income. There is almost always a cop car lurking on the far left shoulder under the overpass, just waiting for the opportunity to score.

The speed limit on that part of the freeway is 60. I saw the cop car and checked my perfectly illuminated speedometer display. It read about 58 mph. All was well with the world. No one around me was speeding, either.

After passing the bridge, I glanced up at my rear-view mirror. I saw that the cop had started his flashing lights. I figured that this was a don't-mess-with-me display, not unlike that of a cobra flaring its hood or a dog baring its fangs, just to warn people to slow down. But then he started moving, with the lights. I wondered who he was after. Usually, they don't bother unless someone is going recklessly fast, weaving in and out, etc., and I didn't see anyone around me who wasn't on their best driving behavior.

Pretty soon, I saw the lights in the lane right behind me, and realized he was after me. I pulled over, having no idea what I'd done. My heart started pounding. What on earth did I do? The thought of a moving violation jacking our insurance rates through the roof gave me a sinking feeling. A young cop got out, came up to me, and asked for my driver's license and proof of insurance. And then asked me if I realized I had been driving without my lights on!

I had no idea. Obviously, I had turned them off when I stopped for gas and never remembered to turn them back on. The streetlights lit the road so brightly, I couldn't even tell the difference. He spent several minutes in the cop car, presumably writing me up. Ugh, what a stupid brain fart. And for that, I would probably have to pay a ticket (a day's pay or so) and then eventually an extra week's pay on next year's insurance premium. This suuucks!

After making me sweat for a few interminable minutes, he came back to my window to hand me back my documents. I said I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed about the lights. He asked, "You didn't notice that your dashboard display was dark?" I showed him that the dashboard is fully lit whether the lights are on or off, and I really had no idea. He then said, "Well, remember to drive with your lights on from now on."

Sweet--I got off with a warning, and no ticket! That hasn't happened to me for 15-20 years. I guess that means my feminine charms are still good enough to get me out of a jam. More likely, I reminded him of his mom. :-)

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.

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!

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.

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.

Successful Debut and a Visit

Last Sat (June 23) was my first time playing through the whole show with the cast--and in front of a paying audience. Can you say adrenaline rush? It was fun anyway, though, and my mess-ups were pretty small. The Actors' Summit folks were, I think, pleasantly surprised that I did so well after only knowing the music for 9 days.

I checked my voicemail on the way home after the show and learned that Gene and Judy Lynch, family friends from Portland, were in the area and would like to meet up with Paul and me and take us out to an early dinner the next day. Unfortunately, Paul was teaching aikido, as usual, and I had a Windsong potluck at 4 pm that day, but they were still able to stop by in the afternoon and we caught up for a couple of hours.

Paul was a real sweetheart and cleaned the first floor of the house that morning since I didn't have time. We should have company more often--the kitchen table still had Christmas cards stacked on it.

An Amazing Recovery

It's been seven days since the mugging, and I am pleased to be able to report that things are almost completely back to normal. We went to East Aurora on Thanksgiving as planned, Paul doing all of the 3.5 hour drive because my neck and head were sore and got stiff easily. For once we didn't have to deal with the threat of a blizzard on the drive--the weather has been beautiful for 7 days straight--sunny and 55-65 degrees. I feel like we're on spring break or something.

The company was pleasant and the food excellent. (The pies got rave reviews and Betty sent us home with two dinners' worth of leftovers!) I took my drugs dutifully as the pain was most fully developed after about 48 hours, but neither of us mentioned the mugging to anyone. This allowed me to really enjoy getting away from everything and put the whole experience in perspective. (For those of you interested in TMI details, I only took the Orphedadrine once a day right before bed, even though I could have taken it twice, and suffered no constipation.)

By Friday morning the pain was mostly just stiffness, so I was able to quit the drugs entirely after taking 1 Motrin in the morning, and I did all but one hour of the driving. We got home around 4 pm. Paul went to work on some stuff in the lab while I finished organizing the details for the service I had volunteered to lead on Sunday. Needless to say, I was just a teensy bit behind, but still managed to get it done not at the last minute.

By now I really felt the need to physically move after 2 full days of inactivity. A walk would have been ideal, but it was already dark and I was understandably hesitant to walk around the neighborhood by myself. So I did my gentlest FitPrime workout, FlexPosture, which is mostly yoga and pilates moves, and without the advanced modifications I usually do. I took it a little easy and made sure to support my head and neck more than usual when doing ab work. I felt better after.

Saturday we got up early with the intention to visit A Christmas Story House the morning of its grand opening. A Christmas Story is one of our favorite holiday movies, and it was partly filmed here. The actual house in the film is just across the river from downtown, and maybe 4-5 miles from our house. We parked at Clark Field and took a Lolly the Trolley shuttle to the house. Lolly has great sentimental memories for us--we haven't been on one since our wedding day.

When we got there, there was a line of about 100 people just waiting to buy tickets, and another snaking down the entire street and wrapping around the next block to get into the house itself. It was already 10:30 by now, and we had a dance lesson at 1:00, so we decided to just get tix (good anytime) and come back another day. Of course it was crowded--grand opening, Thanksgiving Saturday, California-like weather....

All weekend I continued to recover. I didn't even need over-the-counter pain relievers. I was able to do some cardio by Sunday and strength training today. I did take the weights down a notch, 10 lbs instead of my usual 12, but I can still do push-ups on the toes as long as there aren't too many reps. My neck is still a little not-quite-right but everything else is completely recovered. I think I bounced back this quickly partly because my body is used to stress and recovery from my workouts, and I probably would have gotten hurt more seriously if I hadn't been in shape.

I have been gradually replacing more cards. Now I have a new car insurance card, 2 grocery cards and library card. Losing the cell phone finally got me off my butt to switch us to a pay-as-you-go plan (roaming included!) which I should have done long before now. I still don't have my new credit card or ATM card yet, though, which is a major inconvenience. I had to go to a teller to deposit my paychecks and get major cash back so I could buy the cellphones, and I can't really start my holiday shopping without a credit card. Oh, well--I'm sure it will come before another week goes by, as the credit card company surely wants to make it easy to spend more money ASAP.

Mugged!

Last night I was getting gas at a station near downtown because it was 8 cents cheaper than the one near our house. As usual, once I got the pump going, I got out my PDA to enter the mileage. (In other words, preoccupied.) Next thing I know, my purse was being violently yanked by some asshole. Like an idiot, I instinctively refused to let go, so the force he used to take it knocked me to the ground. On my head. On solid concrete. A kind bystander helped me into the cashier area. I think I got up by myself but I honestly can't remember. I never lost consciousness or anything, but I was very disoriented at first.

The police came and I filed a report, but I couldn't help them much since I didn't get much of a look at the guy and didn't even see the getaway van since I was too busy hitting my head at the time. I was of course crying by this time and shivering uncontrollably from the adrenaline. I borrowed a cellphone (mine was in my purse, of course) and tried to call Paul, who wasn't home. I was upset at missing my ballet class at the Masonic Temple, where I had no way to get ahold of anyone to let them know I wasn't going to make it.

An EMS ambulance came by next, took my vital signs, suggesting the idea that they should take me to the hospital, just in case. I was reluctant to just leave my car there--if it got vandalized or stolen, it really would make the evening suck. We kept trying to call Paul every two minutes. It happened at 6:30 and he still wasn't home by 7:20, which was extremely unusual. My panicking mind started worrying that something had happened to him, too.

I was able to drive home (at least it was only about 3 miles away) and I called Paul at work, where he answered. It turned out that he was stuck in the lab because stuff wasn't working. As soon as I told him what had happened, he just left the mess as it was.

After canceling my cell phone, credit card and ATM card and eating a quick dinner, we drove to the emergency room at the Cleveland Clinic (8 blocks from home). Good thing we brought books. It took almost 3 hours between checking in and finally getting seen. It's a good thing it turned out not to be too serious or the delay might have complicated things. Mostly I just have a nasty bump on the head with strained neck muscles from the impact. They gave me two presciptions, one for heavy-duty Motrin and one for Orphedadrine, a muscle relaxant. Of course, I couldn't fill it then since it was now 12:30 am. Good thing the pain wasn't too bad.

I was exhausted from the ordeal but couldn't sleep until at least 3 am, worrying about all the pain-in-the-ass things I would have to get replaced immediately (driver's license, proof of insurance, etc.) When I did finally sleep, it wasn't very good sleep and I had to get up for work only 4 1/2 hours later.

At least the weather was beautiful--sunny and 50 degrees. I drove to Case (which I never do) so I would have time to get stuff done between classes. I was able to get to the bank to get cash and get the prescriptions ordered. After class, I picked up the drugs. Armed with my passport (thank God we had those, or I would have been sunk) and my tax return (couldn't find anything else with my Social Security # on it, lost track of the card years ago) I drove down to the BMV, thinking it would be a zoo on the day before Thanksgiving. Surprisingly, there was only one person ahead of me. The bad news is a tax return isn't an official document--it has to be something officially from the government. They suggested I go the to SS Administration building and get an official printout and then come back.

I drove out of there with a big black cloud over my head, with tears of frustration, fatigue and low blood sugar. It was a race against time. I had to get the license before closing time today because Paul and I are driving to East Aurora, NY tomorrow to visit Betty and Kurt for Thanksgiving, and every minute I drove without it I was breaking the law and tempting fate should I have an accident or get pulled over.

The SS building's parking lot was nearly empty. Oh no, I thought. Did everybody go home early for Thanksgiving? But no, thank God, there were only 2 customers there, and I was in and out with my printout in 15 minutes. Bonus: a new card will come in the mail within 10 days or so.

So back I went to the BMV, which was slightly busier now, but I was still out of there with my new license after about half an hour. By the time I left, it was quite busy, so at least I managed to beat the rush!

When I got home, I went online and printed insurance verification documents and temporary insurance ID cards directly from the Progressive website, then ordered a new AAA card online. I am thankful I only have one credit card, and that I only had $10.51 cash in my purse. All the other cards (grocery store discount cards, Blockbusters, etc.) are trivial so I can deal with them another day.

I still had the energy to bake 2 pies tonight, one pumpkin and one apple-cranberry-orange. Paul had to teach tonight, but he had time to help make the crusts, which he's really good at. I am really looking forward to tomorrow, when I can just relax, get away, and not have to deal with any of this stuff. And be thankful I'm in good shape now so didn't break anything, and that no weapon was involved, and no abduction or worse.

Now I'm off to take this drug which has some lovely side effects. I hate taking drugs. Side effects--collect 'em all! I usually do. I don't mind drowsiness or dizziness (hey, maybe I'll sleep harder!) but I sure could live without the constipation. Who wants to be constipated on Thanksgiving?

What happened to the summer?!

Whoa. I blinked, and half the summer got away from me. I got out of the habit of keeping up the blog from pure laziness. (It surely isn't my huge workload--I worked for 4 weeks with only 2-3 classes a day. That mostly ended 2 weeks ago.)

What on earth have I been doing? you may be wondering. Here's a list of highlights:

• I've been learning more about yoga and integrating more of it into my workout schedule. Paul has some yoga videos that I've been trying out. I like the ashtanga style ones, as they are more vigorous and generate heat so my tight muscles are more likely to get warm enough to actually stretch. I bought a couple of new ones (here and here). I'm not up to doing this style every day so I'm supplementing with beginner lessons from one of Paul's books. It's already making a difference after only a couple of weeks.
• We've been playing horn and piano music together. We played for a church service in July and also got together with Sharon to play some horn, piano and flute music.
• Today Paul and I had an adventure at the Conn factory. He's been thinking about getting another (smaller) horn that would be less unwieldy and better suited for chamber music. The factory is in Eastlake, Oh (only about 25 minutes from our house). Paul got the name of a contact there from Chuck Ward when he brought his horn in for maintenance a couple of days ago. He made an appointment for 8:30 am today, and I got to come too since I wasn't working. He spent an hour trying 3 different horns and ultimately (much to his surprise) ended up choosing the 11D (medium bore) instead of the 10D (small bore). He still had to buy it through a dealer, which was a little bit of a hassle, but we just went home, made phone calls, closed the sale over the phone, and then drove back out to the factory to pick it up, all before noon. I am excited for him!
• At out Joseph Campbell Round Table discussion group at church last month, the conversation turned to altered states of consciousness, the universal drive for such states in all humans, and the many ways to get there. I read some more of Paul's books (The Natural Mind and The Marriage of the Sun and Moon, both by Andrew Weil) that explore the role of drugs and other substances in different cultures. Fascinating reading. Since I've never tried a drug in my life (with the exception of caffeine, alcohol, and prescription pain relievers), I had no idea that one's mindset, expectations, and setting make a huge difference in a drug's effects. Having grown up with the "This is Your Brain on Drugs" propaganda that Drugs Are Always Bad in my formative years, I always just assumed that one try would instantly turn you into an addict and a crazy person. I'm still not interested in trying any of them, but maybe that's because I have arranged my entire life, career choice, etc. to maximize the chance of an altered state. Let's see: Music, romantic love, athletic activity, dance, sugar, caffeine...
• Cambell says that people aren't really interested in finding the meaning of life, but rather the experience of being alive. We talked about that at last night's meeting. I see what he meant, but I would have to say that most people do care about making a difference (meaning) and that life is more than just a roller coaster ride (experience). But I think without the experience to make one feel alive, it's awfully hard to connect to the meaning.
• Speaking of experience, we continue to find new ways to enjoy food. I have been finding new recipes online for summer and now I do most of our meal planning. Lots of pasta salads and green salads witha variety of toppings. The West Side Market has been a great source for cheap fresh produce. They have a stand that sells all kinds of dried fruit, including dried strawberries. These are so delicious! Think moist and chewy as in dried apricots, only super-sweet, concentrated strawberry flavor. Truly the food of the gods and the best candy ever. I cut up mangoes to put in the freezer--great frozen treats. Another thing we've discovered--super premium ice cream (Ben & Jerry's or Haagen-Dazs) is oh-so satisfying even if you only eat 1/3 of a cup. Those little pints are yielding about 6 servings around here! I eat some every day. All those nutrition advice sources that say you can eat sweets "occasionally," as in no more than once a week(!)--I just think that's so bogus. I must be doing something right because I've been able to maintain my goal measurements for 20 weeks so far with no problem.
• It's been so hot lately. I've spent a lot of time holed up in our lovely air-conditioned house watching free DVDs and reading books from the public library, napping, and playing on the internet. This always happens to me during the summer layoff period--I just get really lazy and hardly accomplish anything. But this time I've kept up, and even increased the intensity of, my workouts (it's a little too much--I will have to pull back a bit) and have so far (except once or twice) avoided overeating out of boredom. These are major, major victories.

Weekend With the Bokuniewiczes

We had a great, full, busy, fun couple of days with our out-of-town friends this past weekend. Since I was at Darcy's, Paul did all the house cleaning and grocery shopping (for which I was extremely appreciative!)

We started Saturday with a rehearsal of the Reinecke trio at the church (to be played the next day). Although I had hardly practiced, I retained most of last year's hard work on it and then some. We all had a much more relaxed attitude about it and we sounded even better than last year.

Around noon, Matt Green (another of Paul's college friends) came over. He was able to score us some corporate tickets for the Indians game. We were in the second row along the third base line! We would have never gotten these seats if the Indians had been playing at all well, Paul likes to say. It was a glorious day, much like our similar afternoon last year, 71 degrees and sunny. We were in the sun this time, slathered in SPF 45, and it was just perfect.

It was only the fifth time I've seen a baseball game live, and I'm happy to report that my streak of having the home team win whenever I go to a game remains unbroken. Halfway through, we moved back a few rows where we could all sit together. Here's our group, left to right: Matt Green, Tom, the 3 sons Jeff, Matt, and Tyler, Marina, and Paul.
On Sunday Marina, Paul and I were the featured musicians at church, playing the Reinecke trio.
Paul, me, Marina after the service.
It was also the last day for our interim minister, Terry Kime. She was with us for a year and I'll miss her. Here she is with Kathy, our outgoing board president, and Rob, our incoming one. Dana and Linda made the stained glass chalice gift.

Photo op time, Paul and I with the Bokuniewicz family:
And here's one I took with Matt Green, who came to the service to hear us play:
We went out for lunch at Tommy's in Coventry, a short walk down the street, where Joy joined us.

Heading off to San Diego Tomorrow

.....for the Sister Singers Network 25th Anniversary Festival. 13 women's choruses (chorii?) from across the country, including Windsong, will be performing, attending workshops, cheering each other on, networking, socializing, and participating in a giant mass chorus performance on the last day. One of the mass chorus numbers has a piano part, and Your Truly is playing it. :-)

I've had a busy day today, starting with getting my car to the shop by 8 am. My air conditioning system is apparently full of leaks (hence no cold air). Unfortunately, the compressor is among the leaking parties. About 8-10 different parts of the system need repair, but I was too paralyzed by the $870 estimate figure to have any recollection of which parts they might be. I decided to suck it up, although it's painful, because I do intend to keep the car at least 7-8 more years, and if I didn't care about working air conditioning, I just would have kept my last car before this one. My sweet husband gave me a ride back from the shop, making the rest of my day so much easier.

So far today I've gotten done: a workout, 5 loads of laundry, a couple of time-sensitive phone calls and mailings, recorded and uploaded Galion, and made a list of things I want to be sure not to forget to bring (such as travel alarm). Oh, and a little practicing. All that's left to do is whatever more practicing I want to do and PACK!

Gotta get up at four in the morning for a 6:30 am flight, and I'll be getting back on the redeye special at 6:47 am Monday morning. I probably won't have computer access the whole time, so see ya then! Pictures and stories to follow.

Memorial Day Weekend Fun

Last Sunday the weather finally warmed up. It was just beautiful, sunny and in the low 80s. Paul had to teach his classes, but I was free to attend little Bruce's 2nd birthday party at Bev & Fred's. It was a potluck cookout and I sat at the table full of salads and side dishes and got to know yet another group of Bev's friends. The highlight of the party was, of course, the birthday celebration. Bruce had a Winnie-the-Pooh cake. He couldn't resist dipping his fingers into the orange frosting!

Here he is with his mommy and daddy right before we sang "Happy Birthday." He's still little enough that he lost interest in the present-opening early on and went off to play while Bev opened them. Good times!

On Monday, Paul and I had another harmonic convergence of time off together for the whole day (not seen since Easter), so we did what we always do when we get this chance--get outside! After consulting our copy of Cleveland on Foot and picking a 6-mile, 3-hour hike from the "Moderately Strenuous" selections, we got up early, left by 9:30 am and were on the trail by 10. The trail was almost entirely in the woods so it was about 10 degrees cooler, a good thing since it was pushing 90 by the time we finished around 1 pm!

I am happy to report that I have met another fitness goal, and that is to be able to keep up with Paul on a hike and not be wasted for the rest of the day afterwards. We are now about equal in fitness. He says strengthwise he still has an advantage but that aerobic-wise I have the advantage!

There were lots of steep ravines, some of which were full of mud and water. One even had rushing water with just a stone or two to hop on to get across. I am still a wimp in these situations so I slowed down and was extra careful, but my balance has improved tremendously and I never tripped or slipped. The scenery was beautiful and we had a great time.

The heat didn't even slow me down. Sure, I got a little sweaty but it didn't make me feel miserable and out of breath like it used to, and I don't have a chafing problem anymore. When we got home, we didn't even turn on the air conditioning because it just wasn't that uncomfortable.

However, we did catch The Da Vinci Code in the early evening. I've read the book, Paul hasn't, and we both enjoyed the movie a lot. I don't get all the negativity from the critics--perhaps their attention spans are frayed from having to see so many movies. I thought it was pretty true to the book and beautifully shot.

Idle Hands and All That...

So here it is the middle of May. My job at Case is over for the summer, so I now have all this extra time in the mornings. Most days I don't have anything scheduled until 4 pm. What a perfect opportunity to clean up my Windsong repertoire for this Saturday's performance and compose something decent for the modern piece for the Cleve. School of Dance performance the following Saturday.

Only I haven't been doing any of it. My horrible procrastination tendency has been rearing its ugly head. Until today, the weather has been crappy for a week (48 degrees and pouring all day). I'm not usually such a baby about weather, but man, this depressed my mood. I've been sleeping too much, spending way too much time on the internets, and had two very bad days foodwise (Monday and yesterday).

I know I'm not "cured" as far as the sweets go, and I don't think I ever totally will be. I have been keeping some around the house and mostly have been able to eat them in moderation. Well, moderation for me--that would be a few small pieces of hard candy+ 1 serving of Good Stuff (premium ice cream, dark chocolate, etc.) per day. It works for me--I enjoy it, I don't overdo it, and I can maintain my weight. But, oh lately, I have been reading and just snarfing the stuff down like I used to, only my gut got disturbed (to put it delicately) before I ever got near the quantities I used to eat. Bleah, that felt nasty!

At least now my body won't let me do what I used to do without penalty. At least I have still been keeping up my workouts and not letting that slide, too. At least today I gave myself a new start, and am having no problem whatsoever steering clear of self-sabotaging behavior. Two bad days isn't really much in the big picture, so I'm not going to beat myself up over it.

I'ts interesting to pay attention to my food triggers. The procrastination mindset is the worst, followed by boredom/insufficient stimulation. Periods of underemployment, which unfortunately are part of this career, are times I need to be especially vigilant. I really can't afford to feel that crappy. Next step: start on my practicing and composing. I feel my usual good self now, and the weather has cleared up. No more excuses!

Spring Has Sprung

Our "spring foliage" season, like the fall foliage season, is really short--about 6 weeks. Well, maybe eight. Last year, I did a spring photo project to capture the beauty of the flowers that grow along my walk to work and in our neighborhood. It helped me feel like I didn't blink and miss it, like I usually did in the past. I haven't taken a lot of pictures lately, but on Friday I took a few of flowers that I missed last time.

Today, Easter, was one of those rare occasions when Paul & I both are off work during the daytime. This won't happen again until Memorial Day (not the weekend, the actual day). It's like a harmonic convergence. We always savor this kind of time because it's so rare.

I played for church this morning. Even though Easter at the Unitarian Universalist Society is just another Sunday, I still felt the urge to wear something springy and dressy with no black in it, so we were a little extra dressed up. I'm glad I kept one of my old skirts that I love and couldn't bear to give away even though now it's 3 sizes too big for me. I have a new coral pink shell (that fits) that I wore over it, not tucked in of course, and just gathered the skirt's waistline together with a paperclip because I couldn't find a safety pin. I like how I feel in this pretty outfit and it helped make the day feel special.

After church, a group of us decided to go out for lunch on Coventry. All the restaurants were closed for Easter, so we ended up carpooling for a short drive to the diner on Lee Road. I'd never been before, and it was great! We had turkey burgers and sweet potato fries (delicious!) and, as always with this group, thoughtful and fun conversation.

Then Paul and I stopped at the Lakeview Cemetery on our way home to take the Flower Tour. It's daffodil season here and the flowers are in their prime. There's one hill there that reputedly has 10,000 daffodils growing on it:

Here's one of both of us in our Easter finery:

We went to the Garfield Memorial and took in the view from the observation balcony. You can see Case Western Reserve University with downtown and the lake in the background.

When we got home, we enjoyed a nap, followed by a little egg decorating and enjoyment of Dove dark chocolate foil-wrapped Easter eggs (highly recommended) and listening to some chamber music we'd like to learn this summer. All in all, a very enjoyable day!

March is Jam-Packed With Activities

So many things are going on this month. First of all, the Cleveland International Film Festival March 16-26. I love this event--people talk about film while waiting in line, you get to vote on the films, and you can see things you just don't see anywhere else, like shorts, foreign films, and documentaries, not to mention foreign documentaries. (You may think I'm kidding, but I have one in my lineup of films to see!) I received my 12 CIFF vouchers that I won at the church auction last fall, and spent much of today eagerly poring over the festival guide to make my picks. I've learned over the years that, at least for me, seeing more than 6 films in the 10-day period triggers the law of diminishing returns, and it just gets to be too much to digest, so I'll have a few vouchers left to give away.

In the midst of this, American Ballet Theatre will be performing (and I'll be playing for their warm-up classes). I'm not so sure we'll be going, because there is only so much culture one can digest in a week.

Tomorrow, Paul, Sharon and I will be playing some chamber music for the church service. It's a really great piece and we sound good together. Last night we had a rehearsal at our house, with the piano newly tuned, and we were really enjoying ourselves. It's kind of a loud piece and I didn't realize how late it was getting (10 pm) until our next door neighbor rang our doorbell and told us, "Please, please stop!" (This only happened once before and that was 6 months ago.)

Fortunately we were just about done anyway, but my mood deflated like a balloon. Most of the time they're not even in town (and therefore not around to complain) so it's easy to forget that it might bother them. I know it was a reasonable request, but still. When other people are loud, it just doesn't bother me, after spending 20 or so years in apartments next to fraternities and practicing conservatory students. Paul says it's moments like these that are the only thing that makes him consider moving some day. But I think, no matter where you live, there's always going to be something. If we lived in a traditional single-family home, we would have to do yardwork, which neither of us is into at all. I think we've got it pretty good.

Birthday Weekend

My birthday was Friday and I'm 41 now. I love celebrating birthdays, no matter how old I get and I've never felt the need to be "discreet" about my age. So far every decade has been better than the last and I have no reason to expect the 40s to be any different. I like being this age--old enough to have some perspective on life and young enough to still feel pretty good physically.

Actually, I feel a lot better than I did on my 40th. It was nice this year, for one thing, for my entire family, Paul, and myself not to be violently ill with the flu.

I had a wonderful day Friday. After a workout, Paul took me to see Brokeback Mountain (which I highly recommend). An early dinner at Lopez followed, a heavenly chicken enchilada suiza with a kickass margarita--my favorite cuisine plus my favorite drink. It was so deliciously satisfying, I didn't need to eat for the rest of the day.

After dark, we went to see the holiday decorating and lighting display at Stan Hywet Hall, which, although it was cold and crowded, was beautiful and very fun. When I got home, I returned calls of all the family members who called to wish me a happy birthday. All in all, it was a great way to start my own personal new year.

Speaking of the New Year, we went out dancing at the Cavana Ballroom, where we take our lessons. Last time we did this, two years ago, my feet killed me for a whole day after dancing off and on for 4 hours. But now that I'm in better shape and weigh 25.5 pounds less (yay me!), the only discomfort I felt in my feet was not from the dancing, but from the fact that my dance shoes have a 1.5" heel and no arch support, and my toes kept jamming into the tip of the shoes from gravity, which I am not used to.

We had a catered dinner and met some new people, who took this pic of us:

I'm wearing my new jacket that Mom & Ron gave me for my birthday, and that I've been living in for the past 4 days. Took it off to dance, though!

At about 11 pm, we were treated to an exhibition dance by our instructor Jim and his wife Suzanne. She played the role of Jessica Rabbit, complete with bright orange wig and body-hugging dress with fake boobs, knocking the men dead with her wiles. It was cute and very entertaining.

We had a midnight countdown with champagne punch and a balloon drop, followed by more dancing. I have high hopes that 2006 will be a great year!

That Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Well, one of them, anyway! Yesterday, Darcy came by to visit for a few hours. We spent the whole time just yakking, catching up on all the topics we miss in our phone conversations, exchanging fun presents, and indulging in our annual photo session--this is the third Christmas Eve we've done this. It was so good to see her. It meant a lot to me.

We thought we'd shoot some obligatory Cute Couple pics while we were at it. One of them might make our Christmas cards next year.


At about 6, we had to kick Darcy out because I had to get up to church to rehearse with Amy and Sharon for the service, which started at 7 pm. It as a lovely service--carols interspersed with readings, some humorous and some touching, and ending with several verses of Silent Night by candlelight. We hung around for another half hour socializing over cookies.

We had minestrone soup and a few more cookies for dinner while we watched our DVD of It's a Wonderful Life, a tradition that Dad started maybe 10-15 years ago (not from my childhood). Paul & I have watched it every Christmas Eve we've been together--this is our fourth--and I love this tradition. This time we didn't have to cram packing into our schedule because we didn't have to fly anywhere today, or leave the house at all, for that matter.

We slept in as late as Mouchie would let us (about 8:30) and then enjoyed our stockings filled with clementines, shelled mixed nuts and dark Malley's chocolate foil-wrapped bells. We had a few fun little gifts from mostly family, and laughed at Mouchie as he played with the wrapping paper.

We roasted a 10-lb ham (my first ever). Wow, was that ever good. We got it yesterday morning at the West side market. It was a bone-in, non-precooked one, and super high quality. We coated it with a sugar rub with ginger, cloves, mustard and lime zest with pecan halves all over it--delicious, and not that hard. I managed to fit in a workout and we did our Christmas cards together while listening to David Sedaris's Santaland Diaries, one of our "sentimental" holiday favorites. We got to talk to Dad, Becky & Hannah, Eric, and Mom on the phone.

The rest of the evening's plans include watching A Christmas Story and packing for our trip to Houston tomorrow. Paul's family is having a huge reunion there from the 26-29th. I checked the weather and it's supposed to be in the 70s the whole time we're there! Whoo hoo!

Merry Christmas, everyone!