Forever A Fangirl

Reality Check

Heya All,

I'm "fine" emotionally. Physically, I'm recovering from yesterday.
I had a great though always too short birthday lunch w/ my bro. Our waiter would not believe that bro just turned forty--he was seriously flabbergasted. I OTOH, appeared just right to be the older sister of a 40 y.o. Lunch was Asian fusion and it was very, very good. After, we took a walk to a pretty park on Lake Michigan. Though it was a overcast and slightly drizzly day, it was lovely. Due to our schedules, different lifestyles and physical distance, he and I rarely see one another so it was non-stop talk. He's my only sibling so he has a unique perspective that I always find helpful in getting a better understanding of both him & me.
The drive home however was l-o-n-g and sucky. There are no highways directly between Evanston and here and I can never figure out how do a drive-further-away-and-pick-up-the-highway-then-turn-back thing so I took surface roads and it was raining and rush hour had started and it sucked the big one (fishtailing in the Mustang 'till Kingdom Come).
I had forgotten to take my nighttime meds the night prior and had slept fitfully--I'm sure it contributed to how wiped out I felt. Shortly after I turned onto the last stretch home (also bumper-to-bumper) because by then I was nearby, I cut over a couple streets to the charity store seeking a bit of a respite. It turned out well because the weather had slowed down business and the staff there was chatty so I hung out, got some work done then took my favourite way home (almost zero traffic for 3/4's of it).

The move to St. Charles has been postponed. Spouse is doing the renovation work here and it's just plain going to take longer than the time frame we've set up. Plus it's gawd-awful expensive (did anyone not know that)? The initial impetus for reconsidering was my youngest son though. He is chronologically very young for an 8th grader--and seems to just be coming into his own this year. His grades are good, he's socializing more. In short, he's happy. I--we--still very much love St. Charles and am sorely disappointed that things are being put off, but when one added up the practical such as the commute for all of us (maybe 500 or more extra miles per week) and that we need to pay off the Mustang and get a sensible car for that commute or go broke with the fuel charges, and that out ties to this area--at least whilst my son is involved in his choral group and now, trying out for a theatre troupe as well as that his AP Algebra and German classes may or may not transfer (to St. Charles High) and that since since redistricting, the "smaller" high school that I wanted to send him to is only about 200 kids less than the one here... It goes on. Really, the practical, unblinking, cold, hard truth list for not moving yet outweighs the getting the heck out of the suburbs list.

This weekend is shaping up to being way too packed. An outdoor fest-type performance for my son--quickly followed that day by his audition for a part in a stage production of "Grease." Then Sunday, a family reunion on my husband's side which sounds most interesting in light of a local mayor attending. It's not because he's mayor but that he's a part of national history in that he was a young undercover cop (on his first assignment (!) who infiltrated the group that came to be known as The Chicago Seven (big trial coming out of the demonstrations and police actions at the 1968 Democratic Convention). He was the childhood best friend of my obnoxious father-in-law's younger brother. "Uncle" is flying in from Lake Havasu (sp) so truly a big family event on my spouse and son's side of the clans.
Must see the opening showing of the film  Serenity, tho'. It's a long story that only a Joss Whedon fan ( Buffy, Angel, Firefly) would care to hear. It's also a very telling story of the power of public influence using the Internet as a conduit.

Hills and Valleys and Lots of Plains

I'm never happy unless "issues" get addressed so they were last night until the wee hours.
Anyway, I think things are on the right track. I feel a lot better and frankly, I've been miserable of late. So I'm actually feeling optimistic again though I'm a bit disappointed that something I was so looking forward to has been put off indefinitely. Such is life, isn't it? Hills and valleys and lots of plains.
Last night I read the Newsweek cover story on what has been dubbed the "Type D" personality. It's really nothing new--just the name that's been attached to it. Anyway, it's me almost to a "T". One of the highlights of the article was how negatively this behaviour (constant worrying, keeping people at a distance, irritability/short temper) can impact the heart. Adrenaline can they say, wreak havoc with the heart and it courses through the body as worry keeps the body in a constant sort of fight or flight state. So I have to start making small changes and today's was counting to ten slowly when something bad happens. It was a bit funny because as soon as the bad thing happened I started counting (something broke due to our "remodeling") and I just couldn't count slowly. I was 12345678910, 12345678910, and on my third 123 etc. my son, who was doing homework upstairs, got up and peeked downstairs to see what I was doing. I told him I was trying to be calm and not swear and he says, Oh, that's good. It was cute. Swearing is the habit that I'm most ashamed of in re: my son. It's just not good parental role modeling. I don't smoke or drink or hit and I very rarely yell but I have the vocab of a truck driver sometimes. I'm really going to work at this as it is doable.

So I wish everyone well here at the mid-week point. I'm heading out tomorrow for a belated birthday lunch with my bro in Evanston. Unless he cancels again. Pre-med students. Meh. (j/k)


Cheers!

--Cyn

How Machiavellian Are You?

You Are Somewhat Machiavellian

You're not going to mow over everyone to get ahead... But you're also powerful enough to make things happen for yourself. You understand how the world works, even when it's an ugly place. You just don't get ugly yourself - unless you have to!

How Machiavellian Are You?

"Unnamed" Hurricane ~1900: Galvestion TX Monument

A monument, dedicated to the over 6,000 killed in an unnamed hurricane in the year 1900, is seen on the Gulf of Mexico in Galveston, Texas September 23, 2005. Texas expects catastrophic damage from Hurricane Rita, including the flooding of the entire coastal city of Port Arthur, a senior state official said on Friday. The surf in the background was rapidly rising as Hurricane Rita approached. Photo by Rick Wilking/Reuters

Toning down my clutterphobia

I am in less of a funk today--probably due to swimming more. As mentioned awhile back, it takes a ton of regular exercise to lose weight and though I'm not hung up on that, I certainly don't want to gain it --and age/slowing of the metabolism are not on my side so I'm gonna to keep hammering away at it. Bathroom sink is still not functional. :sigh: Hopefully, tonight. I've had to tone down my clutterphobia or else I'd have gone 'round the bend by now. Perhaps I have gone 'round and just don't know it.    I'm still anxious about the move (the reason we are remodeling the bathroom), second guessing if Chris will be okay leaving his life-long friends behind and starting high school in another county next fall. I hate doing this to him. But I hate "doing" this soul-deadening suburbia to him as well. The town we have our sights set upon is very active environmentally, has lots of parks, bike paths, and best of all one can walk to town. With all of us needing more physical activity, leaving the "all car, all the time" way of life will be best I think, overall. It's just mother guilt and listening to my friend as she coloured my hair yesterday talk of how miserable her 8th grade son is due to their moving this year past. He's with all new kids--just as Chris will be and ugh! it sux to be a mom sometimes--all their pain you feel ten-fold. Money issues are knawing at me as well. Though I'm on full disability--it's very small due to my taking ill at such a relatively young age (plus those stay-at home with kids years/cash jobs did not help). I keep going back and forth and really it makes no sense to try and set up anything until we are moved and settled in. Meh.

I broke open the bottle of wine I brought back from Kenwood wineries in Sonoma County. It's just a white zinfandel--I know not trendy anymore--but being essentially a non-drinker I like it as it's nice and light and very good just to sip here at the computer. I need to motor. Everyone, take care! --Cyn

It Is Your Birthday--Happy Birthday Bro!

 Happy 40th Birthday to my little Bro!

I love 'ya bunches!

End-of-summer blues

I suppose that I'm experiencing the end-of-summer blues coupled with the  "I spent too much money on summer fun" funk as it  has come time  to tighten the belt and pay the bills.  Yeah, I feel sorry for myself because there's tons of fun things to do that I can't. Ick! I hate not having money. I about had a heart attack when it cost $40 to fill the Mustang--so I'm even cutting back on my beloved top-down drives--bummer!

Plus the house is very much torn up due to a. the flood and b. remodeling the bathroom. The horrors of the bathroom never cease. It was constructed as part of an apartment 30 years ago and nothing--I mean nothing pre-made will work with it--will fit. Spouse is hacking and chopping and improvising and the whole damn thing is taking forever and though he swore he'd get it done this weekend I don't see how he possibly can, given that he's working all day (demo-ing at his second job) and it's really at least another all day commitment. I stopped really absorbing what he was telling me after he described how since the floor in the bathroom is not level and the corner not at 90 degree angle, the prior installer of the sink/cabinet cut into the wall in order to fit the cabinet in there. Spouse is at least trying to do it the right way which is to modify the cabinet, not force things to "sort of" work.

We really need the sink working in there though. Number two son is not using proper hygiene. I'll leave it at that other than to note that boys are pigs. 

 

I have no idea what we shall do to deal with the detritus left behind in the wake of our own "flood" (the washer died and spewed a full load's worth of soapy water and grease through out half the finished basement). Water wasn't removed swiftly enough and molding began. Spouse took the severe cure and cut half the wall-to-wall carpet and padding out. So now half the basement floor is bare concrete. Ugh. Just something else for me to stew about as we prepare this house for sale.

On the bright side, and boy am I really stretching to look for one, I spent quite a bit of time down there yesterday cleaning, organizing, and throwing away. Regardless of what we are doing or not about the carpet, Chris is moving down there after Jim moves out.

Jim has been given a January 1 deadline in order for us to have the house ready for sale by Valentine's Day. He will have a massive challenge as he's built up scads of "stuff" from his exposure to it over the past 1.5 years. Too many "deals" too good to pass up (that he should have--until he had a place of his own). He even rents a storage unit and that is totally full. Knowing that he will not "organize" to any degree, I did so  yesterday--just in the basement common area--not his BR--I'm not touching that. Should be interesting when it comes down to the wire because though I would love to have a ton of faith in him that he can move out and deal with the reality of paying more than the $150 per month he pays us, I am pretty sure that he will, much like I did (when I was 18 vs. his going to be 23 y.o.) go through some very lean times.

Ugh. I need sunshine and my swimsuit needs some mending so I think it's shower and clothes on for me and then a few minutes mending out on the back porch before I go volunteer for a couple hours.

 

Cheers!

--Cyn

The president should stop haunting New Orleans

This Dowd piece is really well-written; the final line has so much punch (truth) in it.
A few excerpts...*
*Italics and bolding are mine.

September 14, 2005

 

A Fatal Incuriosity

 

By MAUREEN DOWD

President Bush continued to try to spin his own inaction yesterday, but he may finally have reached a patch of reality beyond spin. Now he's the one drowning, unable to rescue himself by patting small black children on the head during photo-ops and making scripted attempts to appear engaged. He can keep going back down there, as he will again on Thursday when he gives a televised speech to the nation, but he can never compensate for his tragic inattention during days when so many lives could have been saved...

How many places will be in shambles by the time the Bush crew leaves office?

(Scary to contemplate.)

Given that the Bush team has dealt with both gulf crises, Iraq and Katrina, with the same deadly mixture of arrogance and incompetence, and a refusal to face reality, it's frightening to think how it will handle the most demanding act of government domestic investment since the New Deal.

Even though we know W. likes to be in his bubble with his feather pillow, the stories this week are breathtaking about the lengths the White House staff had to go to in order to capture Incurious George's attention.

Newsweek reported that the reality of Katrina did not sink in for the president until days after the levees broke, turning New Orleans into a watery grave. It took a virtual intervention of his top aides to make W. watch the news about the worst natural disaster in a century. Dan Bartlett made a DVD of newscasts on the hurricane to show the president on Friday morning as he flew down to the Gulf Coast.

The aides were scared to tell the isolated president that he should cut short his vacation by a couple of days, Newsweek said, because he can be "cold and snappish in private." Mike Allen wrote in Time about one "youngish aide" who was so terrified about telling Mr. Bush he was wrong about something during the first term, he "had dry heaves" afterward.

...And W.'s chief of staff, Andy Card, was the White House transportation secretary the senior President Bush sent to the rescue after FEMA bungled that one.

W. has said he prefers to get his information straight up from aides, rather than filtered through newspapers or newscasts. But he surrounds himself with weak sisters who don't have the nerve to break bad news to him, or ideologues with agendas that require warping reality or chuckleheaded cronies like Brownie.

( love that^^^  bit--Cyn)

The president should stop haunting New Orleans, looking for that bullhorn moment. It's too late.

What a wrap up! Excellent writing.

 

Keeping Score

Last night I went to the college pool for the first time this season and was pleasantly surprised to see that they did some much-needed cosmetic work in the women's locker rooom (now if they'd just spruce up the showers a bit).

As I made my way around the pool deck, I passed by the co-ordinator, a retirement-aged lady that reminds me of an ex-gym-teacher--a no-nonsense type--though friendly enough. I remarked on the good changes and she just beamed as it was her of course, that had been pushing for them. While she had my ear, she led me over to a wall rack with postcard-sized score cards (and other p-work). She enthusiastically told me of how to keep precise track of one's distance using (the card and) the rings that are like giant beads that fill the lane seperators. Then for good measure, she told me of a woman who was reluctant to try "keeping score" of her distance but relented and was happy to find she could do .5 mile. I said sure why not, and was a total dolphin for the first .5 mile. It was nothing and I made good time. Well, I had to "beat" this unknown person's score so I set out to do .75 of a mile and almost immediately my body started complaining. Apparently, last night at least, a half mile was where I really began working in earnest.
But I did finish the 3/4's of a mile and I'm not sore today! Yay!
So I'm supposed to do 50 miles on the score sheet and be so inspired that I keep swimming. 

Have a great day everyone!

--Cyn

Am I the only person out here with dreadlocks?"

QUOTATION OF THE DAY

"We're getting shown a lot of love, but we're also getting a lot of stares like we're aliens or something. Am I the only person out here with dreadlocks?"
  SHELVIN COOTER,   one of 583 people relocated from New Orleans to a National Guard camp south of Salt Lake City.

Dreadlocks in the heart of Mormon-ville?
I'm thinkin' probably yeah Mr. Cooter, you may be the only guy with 'em.

Ever have one of those days?

Barbara, Our Queen Grandmother

Link to full article: http://tinyurl.com/95qn7

I rarely read Chicago Tribune columnist John Kass, but today I did and I thank him for the juicy quotes from King George's mother, the Queen Grandmother, Barbara Bush.

I never have warmed up to "Bar" as the senior Bush refers to her, maybe it's those ubiquitous pearls. During her tenure as Second Lady and then First, she dressed always like she believed herself royalty (sans the funny hats). What made me decide that I wouldn't ever try to like her was a little true-life anecdote written by Al Franken in which he described an encounter with Barbara Bush on a flight they shared. When she was done with the conversation she dismissed him like he was her staff or servant. And she had big guys backing her up.The woman does not travel light.

So here are some nuggets of wisdom from Barbara Bush in reference to the poor folks camped out in the Astrodome.

http://tinyurl.com/95qn7

While touring the Houston Astrodome, where thousands of Hurricane Katrina refugees have been huddling, Barbara Bush said they didn't have it so bad because, heck, they were poor to begin with. "What I'm hearing, which is sort of scary, is they all want to stay in Texas," she was quoted as saying in an interview on National Public Radio. Thousands of hurricane refugees were sitting on or near their green army cots, perhaps thinking of lunch, presumably waiting to be fed something hearty. Anything but cake.

"Everyone is so overwhelmed by the hospitality," Barbara Bush said. And here comes the fastball over the middle of the Democratic plate: "And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this is working very well for them."

 

"There's a lot of work to be done."

QUOTATION OF THE DAY         
      "There's a lot of work to be done."
  PRESIDENT BUSH,   visiting hurricane victims in Baton Rouge, La.

There is nothing wrong with being a man of few words--unless the words that comprise your statement are so insultingly apparent to everyone as those uttered above by our president.

"There's a lot of work to be done?!" Golly gosh.
No shit, George.

Maple Lake: Revisited

Summer 1983~
My son and his great grandfather, Frank McCrackan.

I've written about Maple Lake, Ontario a number of times. Photographs almost always accompany the posts as it's hard to put into words how I feel about the place, partly because of the many years my family has owned lakefront property there. Photos seem to convey so more than mere words.
Some family history~
Sometime around 1940, my paternal grandmother, who grew up in Housey's Rapids, Ontario--lake country itself, and my grandfather (more the farming type recreationally--real life job was as a Sgt. on the Toronto Police force) started searching in earnest for some lake-land on which they could build a cottage. About this time my grandfather's sister Eva, was managing Maple Sands Resort on Maple Lake. I'm not sure of the exact circumstances but my grandparents ended up buying property about a half mile down the lakefront from the resort. It reached from the road, about 1/3 of a mile away, all the way down to the lakefront. It's a beautiful piece of property. I'm told that it was my grandmother's desire to eventually build three cottages on it--one for each of her three children.

The cottage building began in 1942. My dad was age 12 then and he was very much a part of the building process--following the lead of his father.

My grandmother's dream came to fruition as the years passed and the final cottage was built about a decade after the first went up. Their children grew up and went on to marry and have children themselves. The cottages were/are well-populated.

Even though my father's work transferred us to the United States when I was six years old I continued to spend virtually the entire summer at Maple Lake right through my early teens (I, like my cousins, went through a phase where going up there was "boring." It lasted 'till young adulthood when *magically* we again loved it there).

I have a lifetime's worth of memories associated with Maple Lake, far too many to cram into a blog post. I am pleased though that occasionally someone stumbles across the blog after typing in "Maple Lake, Ontario" and leaves a nice comment.  I'm very happy to connect with a fellow Maple Lake resident and enthusiast. One must spend time up there to truly appreciate all it has to offer--and it offers much.
In re: my photographs: I'm always trying to capture my "mind's eye view" of the lake and I haven't quite done it yet. I intend to keep trying, however.

My world and (you know the rest)

From Thursday: I just got back from a Dept. Of Homeland Security office where I was bio-scanned.  ... as an alien. But then you probably suspected as much. 
It went fine and the people there were so friendly, I thought they were androids--really, they were way too nice to be Federal gov't workers. Though their jobs are relatively new so maybe they haven't had enough time to start hating what they do.

Oh gawd, I came home from the meet-up to complete pandemonium. Spouse took it upon himself to rip out the entire bathroom--all the plumbing--only the bathtub ( sans faucet) remains. I have no clue what his idea was in not letting me in on his plans and at first it seemed thoughtful but taking showers during the very limited hours the pool is still open is a pain and the house is a disaster and I've already lost it once.
Taking up drinking is sounding better all the time.