Vicarious Rocky

Almost home -- Sage should be home tonight!

Almost done -- The art glass knobs came in, the microwave saga has ended, and the counters go in Wednesday.

Almost there - The unpleasant diet journey is almost complete. I am 9 pounds down with 1 to go. When October comes and I start eating birthday cake and Halloween candy, will someone please remind me how much easier it is to maintain weight than lose it?

Here I am using the flat tire picture again. This is the same tire that gave me grief 2 week's ago, but it's tired (pun intended) of lopping along at 20 psi and so, I am taking it in Friday. Now I just have to keep filling it so it lasts until then for the trip to the place. I am too lazy to put the donut on and too embarrassed to call AAA for a slow leak.

Indy's school does this super cool thing where the kids have "sharing" circle time and they just have a topic, or not, and share random stuff with the class. The teacher's aid then types up what each kids says, if anything, and then emails it to all the parents. As Sage says, it's the best email of the day. And not just because you get to hear what your kid says. They are all hilarious.

Today, upon learning that their homemade bookmarks earned $113 for Heifer international, Sophia yelled, "Holy Guacamole!" Yesterday, Catherine told everyone they have mouse poop in their house. I have been to Catherine's century home in Hudson and it's immaculate and straight out of a magazine, so I can imagine her mother is mortified. My kid, yesterday, told everyone I was in a car accident and he went on and on with the details about police getting involved and a mechanic and how he had to stay with Grammy because I was so busy.

All a lie. He made the whole intricate story up. And since I know these parents and my family gets the email too, I fielded calls and emails for an hour after the email went out, letting everyone know, that there was no car accident.

Why would he spin such a tale? Well, Grammy had a car accident and some of his details in the story sounded familiar to her real story. He also started the story with . . "I woke up and . . ." so I think it may have been an elaborate dream. I remember when I was his age, I was convinced I could actually fly because it was a recurring dream that I would swim, front crawl, through the air. I told my Mom I could, and she told me it was a dream, but I never believed her. I thought it was real for at least a full year, even though when challenged I couldn't do it on command.

I wonder what the developmental switch is, in your mind, that suddenly lets you distinguish sleeping from waking consciousness. Anyone know?

The Microwave came today and here it is with the pretty new stove and the white cupboards. Next up counter top installation which is on April 1. There was some mention of needing to uninstall and re-install the dishwasher. Hopefully this is just a vicious rumor since we had to get a plumber to do it as nothing was up to code . . . But we're close now. I just need the drawer knobs and pulls to come in next week and this old house is sporting a new kitchen!

And, yes, I ingest that much Splenda.

Look, I got to use a picture of Paris Hilton again! Every once in a while the Universe gives a strange gift -- a complete lack of motivation paired with a complete lack of urgency within all your daily tasks. Procrastination never feels like a gift, too much guilt involved, but when you imagine that feeling you get when you're tired and unable to focus and yet have to haul ass out of bed and get important things done, well then a day like today (a day when important stuff can be shifted to the Tuesday ToDo list) is a real gift.

Indy: Is kicking ass at school now. He's talking to his friends in near full sentences. He's learning to greet people appropriately. He's talking every day at circle time. And he is now recognizing numbers and letters and is starting to identify words that "start with" letters. He can also spell his name and write the "I." Whew. Best part of all this? He goes to Preschool again next year and so has 17 months before Kindergarten where he'll be expected to know site words and write his name, and where his classmates will, no doubt, be reading and writing (I know this because some of his preschool classmates already do these things!).

Kitchen: They should be scheduling counter top delivery soon, I hope. The microwave has some problems. Our basement bathroom closed off the electric wiring to the kitchen (and the dishwasher plumbing and gas shut off for the stove). So running a new electric plug to the cupboard is problematic. Also, the cabinet is too weak to hold a microwave and the one we bought doesn't actually fit. So, looks like were going to go with a range hood (either existing or new) and then get a smaller microwave to sit on top of it. Not ideal, but good enough. All this, however, does not make me look forward to selling the house. I think the home inspector will have a field day with our kitchen, basement, gutters, etc.

Spring Break: We're going to see Jamie! Diane has to work (booo), but we get to see her for dinner Sunday night! Then we're whisking her husband off for a 4-yr-old inspired trip to the Wisconsin Dells, which looks to me like an evolved Sandusky. And I love Sandusky.

Work: SageRock is growing up. We're doing well considering the economy and have been looking at making changes -- hiring someone with experience, moving, getting a new accountant. I think this is a pivotal year. "Rebuilding" if you will. And I believe we're going to emerge in 2010 graduated from small business Jr. High . . . looking fresh faced and strong.

Skiing: How awful is that Nastasha Richardson story? Uggh. Why do nice people have shit like that happen to them when retards like Chris Brown get to go jet skiing every day. Anyway, I know that bunny hill tragedy was anecdotal, freak-accident stuff, but it still makes me think I should leave skiing to the young and rubbery.

Holly turned me on to Guy Browning "How To" articles from The Guardian. This one called, How To Be An Optimist is particularly funny to me because I am married to what Guy Browning calls a "pathological optimist." In fact, Sage is so optimistic, he makes me seem like a pessimist, but I am really pretty optimistic as well. You just can't tell that I am shining -- like a red dwarf near a blue giant. Anyway, I was inspired to link to this after seeing a shirt today that referenced the fact that some people consider the glass, "twice as big as it needs to be."

For those too lazy to click . . .
_____

How to ...

... be optimistic

* Guy Browning
* The Guardian, Saturday 21 January 2006
* Article history

Optimists think that not only is the glass half full but it's a lovely glass and someone will be along in a moment to top it up. A few people are neither optimists nor pessimists, and for them the glass is simply twice as big as it needs to be. The glass-half-empty metaphor gets everywhere. For instance, you never hear people being happy that reservoirs are half full; or that the surface of the earth is one-third dry land; or that almost two-thirds of marriages are happy.

Pessimists are people born in a minor key. They like to think they're realists moulded from bitter experience. Optimists, meanwhile, don't have bitter experiences. On the contrary, losing that leg/job/lottery ticket was the best possible thing that could have happened to them. Indeed, there are some pathological optimists around, emotional Weebles who might wobble, but it's impossible to get them down.

Optimists are always thinking that things could be a lot worse, which means that they actually have a very acute sense of pessimism. Similarly, pessimists are closet optimists in that they continually have a vision of how much better things could be if they weren't quite so bad.

Both optimism and pessimism are self-fulfilling prophecies, which is either great or disastrous news, depending on what you are in the first place. Pessimists are born, not made, and have no hope of becoming optimists, which can't help matters. Optimists know that pessimists will always be miserable, which itself is a cheery thought.

Some trades are prone to pessimism. The media, for example, are the mouthpiece of pessimism because if no news is good news, then all news is bad news. Engineering is full of optimism in that you can't stay in the business without a strong belief that things are going to go up and stay up.

If optimism is the helium of the personality, then born-again Christians are little balloons of optimism where somebody has let go of the string. The dark side of optimism is that people with a sunny personality can begin to think that the sun is actually shining from a part of their anatomy. They're so bright and shiny that everyone nearby is thrown into a darker shadow. Of course, there must also be a bright side to pessimism. But no one's ever going to find it.

I like to occasionally read "make-fun-of-celebrity blogs." This new pic just out of Lindsay though is Freaky bad. I guess you can be too rich and too thin. Although, I think she has boozed away most of her cash. Perhaps she can't afford food . . . or nice clothes, for that matter.

Lupus can be debilitating, or so I hear, but thus far is just an annoyance to me. In fact, it is so mild that I suspicion-ed that perhaps the docs had it wrong and the meds were mostly unnecessary. I got to test out this theory when I forgot my medication during my 3-day trip to see Holly.

The day we went to Buttermilk Falls in Ithaca, she and I "raced" my four year old to the falls and then back to the car. This was a mild jog at best with lots of little stops to declare winners. I was not in great action shoes, I'll admit, but they were my daily wear boots. What I am getting at here is that I think my current knee problem is stemming from that mild activity paired with no meds. Booo!

There is a chance I just "injured" the knee. But who injures a knee with such mild activity? And I also have no real pain in my knee -- just fluid and swelling.

So, annoying but not debilitating. And I guess I still have problems and the medication is not optional. I am pissed because I have a lot of fun active stuff I want to do this spring/summer and dealing with a bloated, un-bendy knee is not on my To-Do list. So, perhaps instead, I have, "Go get knee drained" on my To-Do list. iiccck.

I want to let everyone know that Menstruating women do not have the corner on "moody."

Indy does this thing where he moseys along all in life soaking everything in and being passive and agreeable and quiet and then BAM everything clicks and he gets hungry and smart and lurches forward mentally and physically. And during said lurch, he is a moody little bastard. He is "the girl with the little curl" incarnate: "Very very good" and then, well, I'd say "less than good," but when I am not ready for it I might agree with the rhyme and say he is "horrid."

This morning it started with a refusal to turn off the computer to get dressed. Then the refusal to get dressed. Then an insistence to undress himself followed by a tantrum about how he "Can't" undress himself. From there each article of clothing removed and put on by himself or his mother was a whine-worthy or tear-worthy event. Once dressed, his grumpiness persisted even though his Dad loved him up and made him giggle while putting him in the car (Thank You, DAD!). Two crackers and a 10 minute silent car ride to school later and my lovely child was back. And, yes, he was hungry, but did have 30 minutes in front of breakfast before this episode.

We literally skipped into school and he was all smiles and hugs saying goodbye. Yeesh.

I went to see my dear friend Holly for 3 days, brought my 4-yr-old, and we had a lovely time. Well, Indy and I did at least and Holly swore she did too, although I cannot imagine it was completely awesome entertaining me while I entertained a four year old.

We spent Sunday at The MOST (Museum of Science and Technology) in Syracuse and that was a great place for a kid. Then we had a lovely dinner party with her friends and my kid asked to go to bed, which made him look extremely reasonable, but really he just liked Holly's roommate's room and bed with the DVD player TV. It was much like a mini, 4-yr-old-sized hotel.

Monday we went to Ithaca. Which, as the bumper sticker said, is "Gorge-ous." The picture was taken at Buttermilk falls and struck me as very funny because swimming, at least on this day, would have led to death -- making the "No Lifeguard" sign seem a bit understated. But, I guess it's much calmer in the summer and there is a lifeguard and a diving board! Hard to imagine.

Other highlights included a nice lunch at the Moosehead, some time at the library, some time with a piece of chocolate covered cheesecake and also apple crisp and sticky rice and S'Mores (Yeah, the diet was on vacation too).

New York and Holly gave me a nice perspective on life. Crossing state lines is helpful for that. I guess it reminds me how many millions of people are out there living different and just as interesting lives. It also reminds me that Tim Hortons is popular in the North East and Wegmans is better than Giant Eagle.

This morning I discovered my car was broken into. "Broken into" is a bit strong, since I neglected to LOCK it. They got away with three of my hard earned dollars in change. They didn't even take my 2 CDs! Really it's just a nice reminder to lock my car doors and close the garage.

I was almost out of gas too, and had to leave early to get it. Sage also noticed my tire was really low, so I went out of my way to get gas at a place I know has air. Their machine was broken, of course, but happily accepted my 75 cents first before I realized it wasn't blowing the air it was compressing.

Then I take Indy to school on my near flat tire and start driving to gas stations. 3 later and an entire town over from Akron, I find a place that has air. From there my day got good. The air was only 50 cents. I had time and enough new car change to wash the car. Then I saw Indy's Preschool concert and it was adorable, had a delicious lunch, and am on my way to the office for a brief bit of work before I have a date night.

Then tomorrow, TAH DAH! I road trip for the first time solo with Indy to go see Holly. I am thrilled about the visit, but slightly apprehensive about the 7 hour drive w/ 4 yr old. I'll keep you posted. Here's hoping for good car Karma!

I had a dream that I was very thin and dressed great and at a restaurant that had a 54-page menu of cream-based pastas. It was taking me so long to decide which one I wanted that when I came back from the bathroom, my friends had left and the place was closing down.

I have been on some version of diet / food reduction for 9 weeks and it’s making me grumpy. Mostly because I have only lost 6 pounds and not the planned-on 9 pounds I feel I “deserve” to lose with the amount of suffering I feel I am enduring.

Yes, I realize I am being a spoiled brat. And Yes, I realize I don’t need to be on a diet. But as Holly and I ascertained on the phone yesterday, even if it’s not about health, vanity, self esteem, dating prospects, or the influence of evil media, it most certainly is about fitting comfortably into your already-purchased, now-too-tight clothes.

Why not buy 2 new pairs of pants? Because shopping is celebration and who wants to go on a “this is the new, chubbier, I’ve given up me” shopping spree?

And, so, I eat soup, oatmeal, diet pudding pie, and coffee until . . . I don’t know? Like, June?!?

Clayde likes to tell me that immortality is memories and stories of loved ones, of course, but also random stuff: like the amazing depression-era weed picking tool her mother had that Clayde still uses to get grass out of my brick front walk.

Lots of things will keep Clayde with us always, but I would not be surprised if Indy will always remember how she cut and fed him an apple every day they were together.

Holly was talking with me yesterday about a person she knows with an odd combination of personality flaws. He is, in her estimation highly insecure with low esteem and also incredibly narcissistic, which seems counter intuitive, but I think I've seen that pattern in others as well. And in myself too at times, although I like to think I am introspective enough to eclipse the narcissism most days. Or is that sentiment narcissistic? ;)

I know I definitely battle the low esteem issue, and I think a lot of women do. But for me it's not crippling so much as ridiculous. I have been noting how this manifests itself in humorous ways, and I have started this "You deserve to" mantra to help myself in weird times where low esteem crops up.

Examples:

When I make diet pudding pie, I serve it to myself messily with a fork and knife while my pie server waits patiently in the drawer for a better pie and company at the house. Prompting me to say, "You deserve to use the pie server."

I have one of those razors where you swap out the head when it gets dull, and I tend to do that after it starts to cut me. "You deserve a sharp razor every, say, 2 weeks"

I also have disposable contacts I change a week late, I never deserve artichokes or deli items at the grocery, I save using glass cups for when others come over (otherwise I drink out of these shit plastic ones), I never shower until the hot water is gone, I save my Swiffer wet jet pads for special floor cleaning occasions and always re-wet them.

You get the idea. Send your Tony Robbins DVDs to . . . PO BOX . . . :)