Heartache
After 31 years, I thought I'd effectively numbed myself to the myriad possibilities of heartache in the world. Turns out, I hadn't even scratched the surface.

Today I learned a whole new definition of heartache, of heart-sickness, of just plain-old-sadness. This whole "it's okay to have human emotions" project is for the birds. Yay, world, I guess. [OCTOBER 5 2008]

Stupid Things I Do, Volume 273B
Buy candy, "for Halloween," on October 1. [OCTOBER 4 2008]

The Office
Friday at work was kind of [insert-your-adjective-here]. My company had a special exhibit, and an e-mail went out early in the morning to invite employees to come and check it out.

So by mid-afternoon, I was behind three men in the hallway. In fairness, I don't technically know any of these men, but I've seen them and said hello in the hallways thousands of times. In fairness, all three of them seem[ed?] like really good guys.

They didn't know I was behind them. A person in the group walking ahead of them said, "I signed up for the 1:00 session." The three guys ahead of me seemed irritated. "There was nothing about needing to sign up on the invitation," Man #1 said.

"Yeah," replied Man #2. "Sounds like this thing is being run by a bunch of women." [OCTOBER 4 2008]

Better Left Unsaid
And here, dear readers, is a short list of things I never want to hear again. Ever.

• "Maverick"
• "...my friends..."
• "straight talk"
• "That's not change! That's more of the same."
• "Wall Street / Main Street" references
• "Drill, baby, drill!"
• "Game-changer" [OCTOBER 3 2008]

Scared
Today I met a former coworker for lunch. We were talking about my complete incompetence at all things human-relationship, and he said (something like) this: "Lots of dogs take on the temperaments of their owners -- and you've got Lucky. Yeah, she's a little neurotic, but once you know her, she's very lovable."

Haha. Of course, I spent the coming hours taking his analogy a bit further. Lucky is scared of almost every human being in the world. Check. But she has absolutely no reason to be. Hmmm. She is misunderstood, by those who meet her, as neurotic and quirky and anti-social. That's not the case; in fact, she is intensely sensitive and superbly loving -- but not always comfortable showing it. Perhaps she was hurt earlier in her life. Perhaps she has some "abandonment" issues. But for God's sake, Lucky -- it's been years. Get over it already, right? Of course, Lucky gives the most fantastic love and affection once trust has been earned -- which only takes a couple years. Hmmm.

On the other hand, I like to think that it's Finny who's taking on the temperament of his owner: he loves everybody, and just assumes that everybody will return the favor to him. Amazingly, his completely unwarranted -- and dare I say, naive -- trust in human beings has never resulted in his being screwed over or hurt. Hmmm. Maybe Finny's right.

Or maybe Finny's really, really stupid. [SEPTEMBER 29 2008]

Good Will Hunting
Well, it's officially become a pattern, ladies and gentlemen. I was called "Good Will Hunting" again this weekend. One day I will be okay. [SEPTEMBER 28 2008]

If You Haven't See It, You Need To...

[SEPTEMBER 28 2008]

Ciao!
My friend Ben introduced me to the song Ciao! by Lush. It's a really good song, so I bought it from iTunes today. I'd rate it as, yes--I'll say it: the best breakup song ever. [SEPTEMBER 25 2008]

You! Yes, You!
The Great Computer Crash of 2008 meant that I lost all of my e-mail contacts. I don't know how to reach you via e-mail anymore. If you read this blog, then send me your e-mail address(es) so I can add you to my contacts list again. I no longer have the e-mail addresses of many of my favorite people! Poor, poor me! [SEPTEMBER 23 2008]

Where It's At
Mike Doughty loves my baby fat. He thinks my crooked nose is where it's at. [SEPTEMBER 22 2008]

(Non) Compensated Endorsements
I am not a compensated endorser -- but I love the following items enough to recommend them to anyone:

• Swiffer 360 Dusters -- they don't "make dusting fun," but they do make it faster and easier -- and do a really good job!
• CLR spray. I bought this to clean my shower, and it did better than anything I've ever tried.
• Schuler Shoes. Good store, good shoes, really helpful employees. And I'm really particular about shoes and my feet.
• SimCity. It's fun, even if a little lame.
• HP Color LaserJet 2605dtn. Does a great job. Ink is expensive, but printer is very reliable.
• Kawai pianos. Obviously the Steinway Grand is preferable, but Kawai makes really good, dependable, high-quality, beautiful pianos. Until you save up the tens of thousands needed for your Steinway, you can't go wrong with a Kawai Studio.
• Swiffer WetJet and Swiffer Sweeper. Both do a really good job, and simplify things a lot. Both are great for people dealing with pet hair. The only sucky thing? The "sweeper"/vaccum thing doesn't stay charged for very long, and fills up quickly, so you constantly need to empty and recharge. Still--very good.
• Adam Stendahl at COPO Computers. He saved my ass, and can probably save yours. Got a computer problem? Try him: stendahl (at) charter (dot) net.
• Meaty Bones dog treats. The dogs like them a lot. Also, Drs. Foster and Smith pet supplies. Good stuff.
• Half-Price Books. That place rocks ass. Do they sell gift certificates there? That's be a great Christmas present (hint, hint).
• Sally Hansen French Manicure Kit (nail polish).

And here are the businesses you should boycott with all your might:

• WalMart
• Best Buy
• DirecTV
• Dish Network

That's all for now. [SEPTEMBER 20 2008]

Not You
Here's the pitiful little graphic I drew on my whiteboard at work. It provides a nice, succinct, visual summary of my basic problem with humanity. [SEPTEMBER 16 2008]

Weekends
It's been a really productive weekend. Got about 7,000 loads of laundry done, finally cleaned my shower, got a bunch of errands run, listened to a whole bunch of Dad's stories, organized my computer files (including iTunes--whew!), blah blah blah. Got to watch my teams today, too: Packers won (yay!), but the Jets lost (boo!). Oh well, at least neither of my teams blew a 15-point lead and lost in the final seconds. What a bunch of jokers. Sometimes I wonder if the Vikings would win against a top-ranked high school team. They just always seem to find a way to lose.

Football season and crisp autumn air are really nice certainties around here. It's fun to pull up a spot on the couch, grab a couple beers, and hunker down for a game. I like it. I hate knowing that cold weather is soon on its way, although I love the snow--just not the bitter cold. Pretty soon the heated mattress pad will be making its way out of storage...brrr! I'm surprised I haven't broken down and turned on my heat yet...the house has been around 65 degrees when I wake up!

I'm working on a whole bunch of cooking projects, which is fun. Better go check the stove. [SEPTEMBER 14 2008]

Wisdom
After having been on the receiving end of some condescending and superioristic lectures, my girlfriend at work received the following words of wisdom in a very supportive e-mail from her mother. I think it's one of the smartest things I've ever read:

"...the most intelligent people I know don't feel that need to impress. The 'box of rocks' set, however, do seem to feel that way. Intelligence isn't being well-read; that's being a lit professor or someone with too much spare time. It isn't knowing who the movers and shakers are; that's 'street smarts.' It's knowing when to talk and when to listen, when to share knowledge and when to stifle it, and above all, it's knowing how and when to use what you have upstairs beneficially."

Amen, Mom! Can I post her name??? [SEPTEMBER 10 2008]

Yay!
I apologize to my rapt reading public; my computer crashed last week and I've been without access to my files and stuff since then. However, I'm pleased (more pleased than you can imagine!) to announce that my friend Adam Stendahl successfully recovered a LOT of data from my hard drive, so I was able to get most things back up and running on my laptop. So now I'm blogging from my laptop, until I figure out what I'm gonna do about a completely new system. Monetary donations are welcome--just write "Rachel's Computer Fund" in the memo line, so I'm sure to appropriate your contributions fairly.

So what's new? Well, the Great Crash of 2008 has taken up a lot of my time and energy, as pathetic as that might sound. But Mikey came over tonight to help me put in my front windows, so that was good. The paint doesn't look good, but I'm gonna have to wait until next year to fix it up; the putty just isn't drying. It's getting cold out. I need the windows up. So they're up, and they look okay, but next year I'll touch up everything. Otherwise, I've been busy working and writing and gardening and thinking and walking my pups. Will write more later...am just excited to see things back up and running again! [SEPTEMBER 10 2008]

My Gardening Project
Little Man was up all weekend, helping me create a masterpiece in the backyard. I'm posting pictures below, but please ignore the dead, yellow grass. Hey: it's been a long, dry summer. Next year I'll keep my grass lush and green and beautiful and perfect. Either that or I won't. But the garden is beautiful now — and when stuff fills out and blooms in coming years, I think it might actually be (to use the word that drove me out of pretentious Plymouth) breath-taking.

Let me know what you think. It was a lot of work—mostly for Ryan! We planted over 50 perennials and 2 trees, plus a couple larger bushes / shrubs. [SEPTEMBER 1 2008]

Random Fact
I've lived in my house approximately 1,185 days. Just today, I used up my last trash bag from the box of 80 "13-gallon kitchen trash bags" I bought on the day I moved in. That means I average one 13-gallon bag of trash every 14.8 days. I'm green, baby! [AUGUST 28 2008]

Forgot to Mention
I forgot to mention that I brought Finny back to the vet for a "portly" checkup. My handsome little red guy has lost 8 pounds! He's very svelte—and even more kissable than before! I don't think he's really lost 8 pounds: at the initial check-up, he had just eaten and hadn't pooped. For this most recent check-up, he hadn't eaten and had just pooped. That probably accounts for a couple pounds, anyway. Poor guy. But the vet said he looked good, so I'll take her word for it.

I've got a lunch date with one of my more favorite co-workers, Ben, tomorrow. He recently proclaimed that he'll be calling me "Little Miss Sunshine" from now on, since I'm always so happy and positive and cheerful. Whatever, dude. I'm at least as happy and positive and cheerful as he is. That must count for something. [AUGUST 21 2008]

Today
Today was a really hard day of vacation, but I'm making real progress. I'm tired and crabby and completely overwhelmed, but I'm getting there. I can't believe I'm not done yet! Check out the photos: the first day I moved in, and today... [AUGUST 20 2008]

Insights from Myra
Myra pinpointed one of my trouble-spots in dating, particularly concerning first dates. Because I'm kind of completely an open book, I'll talk to anyone about almost anything. This usually means that I share personal stories that many (probably most) people would reserve for much later dates, after they get to know someone better. Myra suggested that my "opening up" is probably interpreted by my dates as a signal that I'm comfortable with them. ("She's telling me all this stuff, so she must like me.") Makes sense, but here's the thing: I'm comfortable with everyone. Like I said, I'm an open book. I'll talk to anyone. Wanna discuss race, religion, politics, culture, STDs, child molestation, porn, sex? Sure, let's talk. Wanna discuss sports, weather, pets, hobbies, music, books, movies? Sure, whatever.

This hasn't been a bad thing, except that I often get asked for second dates when I really don't care to be, and in situations where I can't understand why a guy would ask me in the first place. From my end of the date, it's painfully obvious that we share next to nothing in common and wouldn't be very good for one another. I'm a nice woman (believe it or not), and I genuinely want to spare nice men the misery of an incompatible girlfriend and an inevitable, uncomfortable breakup. In terms of life goals and aspirations and philosophies, I am incompatible with most of the population. The problem is me. I get it. I'm just trying to spare everyone some heartache. Truly.

I asked my friend Hot Derek for his take on Myra's idea. He agrees, but (I adore him for this) insists that I should not attempt to change this part of myself. So what if people misunderstand and miscontrue my intentions and feelings? Yeah. So what? [AUGUST 14 2008]

Amen!
When Mikey and I first broke up and I felt all sad and dejected, my coworker Heidi gave me a different version of this "funny," which I've kept displayed in my cube ever since. (Nothing heals a broken heart like some unabashed man-hating, right?) Sorry I can't cite a proper reference; there's no copyright or owner listed, and I can't find the image when I search online.

Amen! Sing it with me, girls! :) [AUGUST 14 2008]

Doing Nothing
What many people would define as "doing nothing" is, in fact, quite the opposite for me. When I am "doing nothing," I'm usually lost in thought, being far more productive than when I'm actually "getting something accomplished." [AUGUST 13 2008]

Go Jets!
Since none of you people will just leave it the hell alone for God's sake!!!, I'm left with little choice but to formally address the now-subsiding Brett Favre saga. "What will you do, Rachel?" you ask. "Will you still be a Packer fan?"

Since Brett has been my imaginary husband for many, many years, I feel it's my moral responsibility—nay, my duty—to support my husband through these trying times. I am now a Jets fan. Fair-weathered and Pack-stabbing, you say? Perhaps. But an imaginary husband is an imaginary husband, and I'm trying really hard to be a good imaginary wife.

I'm still a Packers fan. I'll still root for the Packers, I still hope the Packers kick ass this year, I still hate the Vikings, etc. But I am now a Jets fan, first and foremost. They will be "my team" until Brett finally-no-really-this-time-for-real retires. Then I will resume my former allegiance to the Pack.

The one constant that I can guarantee, regardless of any personnel changes: I'll always be a Twins fan. I promise. [AUGUST 12 2008]

Yes, Virginia
I feel so blessed that my favorite old college professor, Virginia, remains a part of my life. She has offered me infinite humor and wisdom during the last 12 years. [AUGUST 12 2008]

Another PostSecret?
Here's another Post Secret-type site I found recently: Common Ties. It's updated daily, unlike Post Secret, which is kind of nice. I like it a lot. [AUGUST 12 2008]

My White Whine
I hate nights (like tonight) when Twins games aren't broadcast in HD. Honestly, the plain-old-FSN is really annoying—almost impossible to watch.

Speaking of the Twins, what's more sad: the fact that the games don't start until 9:00 this week, or the fact that I've become so old that a 9:00 game is just too damn late for me? [AUGUST 4 2008]

Beer Nuts
Q. What's the difference between deer nuts and beer nuts?
A. Deer nuts are under a buck.

Funny. I found this joke in the story "Patient, Female," by Julie Schumacher, which appeared in The Atlantic's 2008 Special Fiction Issue. Excellent issue — you should buy it. Lotsa good stories. [AUGUST 4 2008]

I watched it this afternoon, and, as usual, Mikey was 100% correct. It was hilarious! Everyone needs a little light-hearted romantic comedy once in a while, right? Cage's character provided a fantastic study in physical comedy. The incident where he fell into the pool was side-splitting, but was then capped off by his tripping over and breaking a glass table. Honestly: this sort of comedy rivals only Chris Farley in physicality. Absolutely hilarious. If you ever need a good laugh, you know where to find it. [AUGUST 3 2008]

Logic
When I tell people I have a graduate degree in rhetoric, I can see their brains processing the idea that I've likely studied politics and learned all about the fine art of "spin." Not true. My degree is, more accurately, in logic: understanding, presenting, and debating situations and arguments logically—and writing about those situations and arguments in the same way. I've always said that the quality of one's writing can never exceed the quality of one's thinking. If this is true, then the world is full of really shitty thinkers.

I've always been more grounded in logic and reason than in feelings and emotion. I often assess situations with a weird sort of clinical detachment—and not because I don't care, not because I'm a heartless, insensitive bitch, but rather because assessing situations based on emotion is a fantastic way to arrive at the wrong conclusions. ("Do you think I'll ever get married / get a divorce / go bankrupt / lose weight / start my own business / adopt a child?" my friend might ask. "It doesn't matter what I think," I'll reply. "You either will or you won't. You'll learn these answers one way or the other, but you'll probably be fine either way.") Accurate and simple.

I don't mean for this to be insensitive or cold; I just don't know a better response. Remember this: People rarely ask for advice when they genuinely want and/or need it. And they're even less likely to act on your advice anyway — so save yourself some time and agony. Stop engaging in the stupid-ass-back-and-forth debates about meaningless issues. When people ask for your advice, recognize that what they usually want is an opportunity to hear themselves speak, to hear themselves present their own situations from their own emotionally-biased (and thus, horribly inaccurate) perspectives. You can humor them and give them that opportunity to speak, but offering your advice is typically a colossal waste of time, rarely accomplishing anything. If you like exercises in futility, though, go ahead: advise away, preacher man!

I hate when people say things like, "You're gonna make me cry," or "Don't make me feel bad." Here's the thing: I can't make you do or feel anything. You make yourself cry or feel bad, based on your own feelings about yourself, and the level of value to which you hold my opinion." If my opinion is that you're a bad/stupid/ugly person, and you care about and put weight on my opinion, then you might "feel bad." If, however, you know you're a good/smart/beautiful person, then my opinion won't affect your mood. You can't feel bad without allowing yourself to feel bad. I have zero patience for people who rely on others to make them happy. [JULY 30 2008]

HeeHee...
I know it's inappropriate in every sense of the word, but come on... [JULY 22 2008]

Really?
I pull up to a stoplight next to a white truck. The guy in the truck waves at me and smiles. I do my best to pretend to care, smile back, then look forward. He honks. I look over. He starts flexing his biceps for me.

Really?

Can you feel the exciting (and yet somehow predictable) end to this tale? Naturally, I pulled over immediately, blushed and cooed girlishly at his amazing demonstration of superior male prowess, and agreed to meet him later this evening for a wildly uncensored adult romp. I mean, come on, ladies. What else could I do? [JULY 21 2008]

Whenever
Whenever I get irritated with the tumbleweeds of dog hair that sometimes blow across my hardwood floors, I remind myself how sterile and somber and boring my home would be without them.

My dogs make me laugh—real, belly laughs—every day. Finny has recently taken to eating the peas right off the vine, right out of the garden. (And who can blame him, with this crappy new low-calorie diet he's on?!? The dog's gotta survive somehow!) Lucky runs head-first into the fence when she chases bunnies and squirrels, then seems sincerely flabbergasted that the fence was there. Some nights, Finny snores so loudly that he startles himself awake and immediately begins growling. Lucky insists on having an audience when she eats. Finny gets belligerent if I pay too much attention to Lucky. Both dogs go total ape-shit when the mailman comes. (But think about it from the dogs' perspective: they win, every day. Every day, the mailman comes to the door. And when the dogs start barking, the mailman goes away. Mission accomplished, right? In their little pea brains, they're winning.)

I love my dogs. They rock. [JULY 20 2008]

What?
When I imagine myself at 40, 50, 80 years old, I always imagine a husband there with me: a kind, funny, smart, sweet, not-afraid-to-get-dirty, animal-loving, silly husband. I'm wise enough to know that I only want the right husband, and that I'll be much happier as a single woman than as a woman married to the wrong guy. I'm pretty damn happy right now, which is good.

But if "the right" husband is, in fact, what I want, you'd think I'd take steps to help make it happen. And so I try, every once in a while, to take steps. But then I end up out-thinking myself, getting a little bit of a hugely bad attitude, and giving up. I don't know why I feel like it'll be so hard to find someone that's well-suited for me. Well, actually I do know why: I'm a "unique case," as my friends and various professional acquaintances so lovingly put it. Whatever, dude.

So how badly do I really hope to meet that mythical "someone special"? I really can't answer that. I wish he'd just magically appear at my doorstep, already knowing everything bad about me, not at all concerned that my hair is unstyled, and happy to play with my dogs—who just might drool on him. I hope, when he tells me that he, too, loves animals, he doesn't mean that he loves them in the way that requires him to sanitize his hands every time he touches them. I hope my husband honestly cares what I think, and doesn't (as previous husband) pat my head condescendingly and say, "Rach, a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to think!" I hope he has informed opinions about politics and government, history and economics, religion and culture—I don't care whether or not our opinions align. I hope he honestly finds me beautiful—unshowered and make-up-less—and is able to tell me so. I hope he can't keep his hands off me.

It's not asking too much, really—but it's harder than you'd think. And I hate first/second/third dates, which doesn't help my odds at all. I hate fearing that people will discover all kinds of weird things about me that they'll find appalling. I hate feeling like my date is just trying to say "the right things" and be impressive. I wish we could just lay it all out, but most people aren't like that. And then, when I'm like that, my dates probably think I'm a total weirdo. I don't care. And so I give up. [JULY 19 2008]

Ice-Cream
You know what rocks? Ice-cream trucks. I hadn't seen one in ages, but there's a pink ice-cream truck that comes around my neighborhood some nights, complete with children's music playing out of its speakers. Very quaint. Of course, who knows...it could be the town's pedophile just looking for easy prey, but I like to think it's for real. I like it. [JULY 15 2008]

Oh, Brett...
What are you doing? [JULY 14 2008]

Dorkin' Out
Levenger: my own little version of internet porn. I love looking at this stuff! I know it's a little rude and presumptuous, but if you ever need to buy me a gift, this site is a perfect place to find one. [JULY 13 2008]

Karma and Apologies
Last night I got to make an apology that was 5 years past due. Wish I could have done it 5 years ago. [JULY 13 2008]

Stupidity
I swear on everything good and holy in this world, if I meet one more woman who marries John Deere thinking he'll one day become Johnny Depp, I'm going to have a nuclear meltdown. [JULY 10 2008]

Truly
I really and truly don't know what I did before I got my ipod and iTunes all set up. I am such a spoiled, rich, white girl! [JULY 9 2008]

Television and Sanity...
...are inversely proportional. The more television you watch, the less sane you will become. [JULY 8 2008]

Sunday
The whole house is now painted, though the front needs another coat. Here's my theory: it looks good enough from the street, so I'm not gonna do it until next weekend. I've really, truly had it with painting. I'm tired, and sore, and a little bit crabby, so I'm taking today off—the first real day "off" during my 9-day vacation. What am I gonna do? Hopefully nothing. Watch the Twins, walk the dogs, do some writing, relax. It should be fun.

PLEASE VOTE: I'm thinking about painting the wooden trim in white (where the gray currently is), and using a deep, indigo blue around the windows (where the burgundy currently is). Would this look good? Let me know. [JULY 6 2008]

Independence!
Instead of painting all night, I got (very easily) roped into having a couple beers with the neighbors on Independence Day. It was fun: we played charades, lit some fireworks, and held our own singing, flag-waving "mini-parade" down the street. MUCH better than painting! My neighbors rock. [JULY 4 2008]

Holy Hanna—and Karen!
Productive! Yay! I was feeling overwhelmed and under-prepared for all this work, but today was Holy Productive! It's amazing how much faster things go with a little help! I got all my edging/trim work done, while Hanna and Karen got an AMAZING start on the front of the house. Check it out...everything is done now, except the front! Yay-yay-yay!!!!

[JULY 2 2008]

Vacation, Day 3
Here's where things stand as of (before I started working) this morning, July 2. I'm working on the edging today, so hopefully things will be looking "done" before the end of the day. Then tomorrow—maybe!—I'll start the front. [JULY 2 2008]

We attach these labels because we're human, but the natural world around us does not. Animals, for example, have no need to be weighed down with thoughts of how they should be, or how much better their lives would be if they'd lose 20 pounds, or get that promotion, or finally pay off that mortgage. Finny does not covet Lucky's unique eyes, and Lucky does not covet Finny's pretty red hair.

Humans would be far better off if we'd strive to live lives that don't rely on labels and categories and comparisons. Things are the way they are, period. People look the way they look, period. Tulips and roses do not envy each other. [JUNE 29 2008]

The Gift
Even after all this time, the sun never says to the earth, "you owe me."
Look what happens with a love like that: it lights the whole sky. —The Gift, Hafiz [June 28 2008]

Weekend
Busy weekend: finally got my tomatoes and peppers in the garden, so that's good. Also pressure-washed the back of my house. I was gonna finish the whole house, but I shot my foot with the pressure-washer—point-blank range—and it hurt. Did I mention I am a master of understatement? Anyway, I gave myself a break for the rest of the weekend...will try again this week and weekend.

Myra, Steve, Gary, Brenda, Hanna, Alicia, and Rachel came over for a campfire on Saturday night, which was fun. Human contact is sometimes really good, and this weekend that was true. This week is gonna be really busy at work, but then I've got the next full week off, which will be excellent. [JUNE 22 2008]

So I’ll walk the plank, and I’ll jump with a smile. 
If I’m gonna go down, I’m gonna do it with style. 
And you won’t see me surrender, you won’t hear me confess,
cuz you’ve left me with nothing—but I’ve worked with less. 

When I say "you sucked my brain out,"
the English translation is, "I am in love with you, and it is no fun."
But I don’t use words like "love," cuz words like that don’t matter. 
But don’t look so offended—you know you should be flattered. 

I wake up in the night in some big hotel bed...
my hands grope for the light. My hands grope for my head. 
The world is my oyster.  The road is my home. 
And I know that I’m better off alone.
—Ani DiFranco, "Dilate" [JUNE 18 2008]

Why My Dad is the Best in the World

• In all my years, I’ve never—not once—heard my dad say a negative word about another human being.
• We used to have spaghetti races, seeing who could suck up the spaghetti noodle fastest into our mouths. Inevitably, we’d get sauce all over our faces.
• I used to sit on Dad’s lap and share bowls of popcorn with him. “One at a time,” he’d tell me, while heaping handfuls of the kernels into his mouth.
• No matter how much weight I gain or lose, Dad always tells me the same thing: "You're too damn skinny."
• Dad was the world's best "tucker-inner" when I was a kid.
• He always used to tickle my feet and scratch my back for me. He'd start scratching too hard when he got tired, so I'd run away and give him a break.
• He always killed the spiders for me—even though he'd chase me around with them afterward. Eewww!
• The first time I got in a car for the purpose of learning to drive it, I didn’t know that you had to press the brakes gently. So, when I wanted to stop, I simply moved my foot over and stomped on the brake. All I remember about this incident is watching my dad’s head whip forward. And when he was back in position, he turned to me very patiently and said, “you could go a little easier on that next time.”
• Every time I see him, my Dad gives me $20 and says, "You better buy yourself a donut."
• Instead of laughing or trying to talk me out of it (like so many others did), my dad said, "I think you'd do a damn good job" when I told him that I wanted to make my living as an author.
• Whenever he tried to help me with my algebra homework, we'd always get into mini-fights. He'd tell me, over and over again, about the way he learned it, and how much easier it would be if I didn’t have to show my work. In his day, boy, you didn’t try to make things as complicated as they could be. If you got the right answer, by God, they figured that was good enough.
• He lectured, over and over again, about the importance of regular oil changes, and checking the engine regularly, and not going too fast, and watching out for kids and dogs and other drivers and little old ladies. "You never know what them old ladies are gonna do," he'd say.
• As a bratty teenager, I sat by my dad in church pointing out what I believed was a hypocritical family, who came to church regularly and religiously—always sitting up front and praying very visibly—but who hid many family secrets I knew about (and none that would make the Lord proud). After listening to my whining for about 30 seconds, Dad turned to me sharply and said, "Don't worry about why anyone else is here. Worry about why you're here."
• Just before I walked down the aisle to get married, I got really nervous. "What if I trip and fall, Dad?" I asked. He looked at me in the kindest, simplest way and said, "Well then, Rach, you just get right back up." It's been the best advice I've ever received.

I could on and on for endless pages, but I'll spare you the gushing. Just know this: if nothing good ever happens to me for the rest of my life, I will still be the luckiest girl in all the world to have had the very, very best dad in all the world. Happy Father's Day, Dad! I love, love, love, love, love you! [JUNE 15 2008]

30 Days of Updates, Again
I will make an update every day for the next 30 days. You're welcome. (Three people told me last Friday to post more! I didn't know three people even read my blog!)Not much is new. I'm watching Cody this weekend, and he's a good ol' Bubba. No trouble, which is no surprise. Otherwise I've been getting a bunch of stuff done around the house: sorting and organizing and cleaning things, getting all of my CDs on iTunes (a very tedious task), and trying to set up my new TV.

New TV, you say? Yup, that's right. My old pile of crap went kaplooey late last week, so I had to replace it. Now I have this one: a Samsung 37" flat panel LCD HDTV. It's really nice, but I can't figure out how to plug everything in. I will ask my friend Hot Derek to help one day next week.

Random thought: Dogs don't understand context. Two examples: When I say, "Do you wanna go for a walk?" they jump around and run for their leashes. When we get home from that walk and I say, "Did you have a fun walk?" they jump around and run for their leashes again. Or when I say, "No, Lucky!" to stop her from doing something, she cowers and slinks away. But when I say, "I know, Lucky..." she does the same. You really gotta be careful with dogs. They probably don't understand "phat" and "sick." Who am I kidding? I'm 31 years old. I don't understand "phat" and "sick" either. [JUNE 14 2008]

Words I Never Imagined Would Escape My Lips
Tonight the following words came out of my mouth: "It's okay; I can take the anus."

I'd never imagined, in my youth and naiveté, that I'd have occasion to speak those words. But tonight I took Lucky to our first appointment at a new veterinarian. I knew that Lucky would get nervous and spray her anus, and I could see that the vet tech was nervous about holding her. So when I hoisted Lucky up on the examination table, I proudly proclaimed, "I'll hold her for you. It's okay; I can take the anus." My life is a comedy of ridiculous proportions. It's a life of trivial trials, a lottery of meaningless tragedies and miniature victories. Tonight was one of those victories, dear readers: Lucky was scared, you can be assured. But she didn't spray her anus.

But even if she had, it's okay. I can take the anus. [JUNE 4 2008]

Good Friends
I am blessed with really, really good friends. Yesterday my friend Hanna came over in the afternoon. She helped me pick out lots of cute outfits from my closet. (I'm really bad at knowing what looks decent, in case you didn't know.) Then she helped me haul away all the wood on my patio, and she washed dishes for me later in the night, and she took the dogs for a walk with me, and she drove us to Target, and she gave me some of her cute clothes to wear. What a friend! And what a late night for me! (2:30 a.m.!) [MAY 24 2008]

My Ideal, Take 2
If you scroll down, you'll read "My Ideal" man description. As it turns out, I put way too much thought into that. Today I realized that all I'm really looking for is a human version of Finny: he's handsome and funny, he lets me touch him whenever I want to, and he goes and lays down whenever I say so. Perfect. [MAY 22 2008]

Vacation
I'm on vacation until next Tuesday. It pretty much rocks, but I've been too damn productive to really call it a vacation! Last night (Wednesday), I got home from work and mowed my lawn, picked up dog poop, weed whipped, and walked the dogs. This morning I was up and outside by 8:00. By 3:00 this afternoon, I'd finished the following:

• Got gas
• Got beer (Yay!)
• Got an oil change
• Ripped up and transplanted all my old perennials (flowers and shrubs)
• Planted most of my summer veggie garden (peas, beans, radishes, beets, cucumbers, onions). Am gonna wait a couple weeks before I put out tomatoes and peppers.
• Did 2 loads of laundry
• Washed dishes
• Got my hair colored
• Watered all newly seeded grass (+ garden, obviously)
• Got too much sun

I'm tired — and I don't have enough stuff left on my "to do" list for the next 4 days of vacation! [MAY 22 2008]

Dogs
Here are a couple new favorite dog pictures:

[MAY 17 2008]

My Ideal
Okay, so chances aren't great that I'm gonna find an intellectual farmer in the heart of Minneapolis—but this would be a good start:

He Would Be:

• Kind (concerned about lives beyond his own, actively involved in worthy causes)
• Smart (able to entertain and debate multiple sides of any issue)
• Funny (as measured solely by his ability to make me laugh)
• Hard-working (not a "come home and rest on the couch watching TV all night" kind of guy; motivated by projects and ideas outside of his primary work).
• Responsible (holding a steady and long-term job, following through on all commitments).
• Annoyed by people who confuse basic grammar (Peeple our knot all ways that dum, rite?).
• Easy to talk to (I’ll hold up my end of the conversation, but only if he can hold up his).
• Unrestricted by traditional beliefs about men and women (Cleaning is not my job, and mowing the lawn is not his).
• Secure (Needless to say, he's gonna have to be).

• Dogs (big dogs, small dogs, red dogs, all dogs)
• The Twins! (and other baseball)
• Pizza (I mean, come on)
• Beer (Mmmmm...beer)

• Obnoxiously try to impose his religious or other ideologies on people.
• Strut around thinking (a) he's hot (b) he's so much smarter than… or (c) he's perfect.
• Feel compelled to answer his cell phone every time it rings.
• Get really excited about a promotion to middle management in a corporate environment.
• Think racism, sexism, ageism, homophobia, etc. are funny.
• Expect me to coo girlishly over his amazing brain and kind heart and hilarious stories (if this could actually happen, more power to him!)          

• A girlfriend who holds intensely independent and feminist beliefs but still wants him to open doors, hold chairs, and pay for dates…
• A shared life that will never be without animals (and all that accompanies said animals, including but not limited to: hair, poop, a variety of indescribable and unsavory scents, drool, snoring, water dripped on floors, severely limited bed space, etc.)…
• Long conversations that sometimes require open and honest sharing of ideas.
• Long conversations that sometimes require intense scrutiny of Homer’s nuclear safety record or Brett’s apparent inability to win one last Super Bowl.
• An explicit and non-negotiable expectation of fidelity, honesty, and open communication—even when times are not fun and butterflies have long since flown away…
• A life completely lacking any desire for a 6-bedroom, 4-bathroom, 5,000-square-foot house with underground heated pool and three-car garage, regardless of what the Joneses have...

I know he's out there...probably buried under an avalanche of really good books that he reads while sitting by the non-purebred dogs he adopted from the Humane Society. Guess I'll just hold my breath until the doorbell rings! [MAY 17 2008]

Ma'am
Both Finny and Lucky got baths yesterday. I'd only intended to bathe Lucky, since she stunk like a dead fish—but after she soaked me and the bathroom floor, I figured I might as well bathe Finny, too. Damn dogs. They are both cute as little butterbeans right now!

Tonight I stopped at the gas station for some stuff. The guy at the register said, "That'll be $30, ma'am." When did I become "ma'am"? Seriously. I've been "miss" for my whole life, but I guess the "you're-gettin'-old" transition is officially underway. Whatever, dude. I asked him how old he was. He said 18. I chuckled. Ma'am, my ass. Punk kid. [MAY 16 2008]

Progression
I'm becoming a very happy person. Might as well kiss my writing skills good-bye, huh? Hee hee. [MAY 11 2008]

Goodness

Today I discovered another reason that my dad is my very favorite person in the world. I thought I'd heard all (or at least most) of this stories. Today I heard a new one—and my dad has now moved up to the position of my very, very, very, very favorite person in the world. Honest to God: the man defines goodness and everything that goodness represents.

We were talking about the upcoming election. Since dad is 80 years old, I asked him if he ever thought he'd live to see the day a woman or a black man would be president. He said no. He proceeded to tell me that, in his day, there were still separate facilities for blacks and whites, and places where there were "no coloreds" signs in windows. He told me the story of a day, when he was 22 years old, that he was standing outside a restaurant in Rochester. A young black man was standing next to him, and wondered aloud whether he dared enter the restaurant. The man asked my dad if he thought they'd allow him to enter, if he thought they'd serve him food. Dad said, "Why don't you come in with me—and if they won't give you any food, then I won't have any food either." They went into the restaurant and sat down for dinner without any trouble.

I love my dad. I can't say it any other way. [MAY 4 2008]

Cynicism? Nah!
I wouldn't choose to relive my twenties for all the cash in the world. Never mind that. I would relive them—but only if I could take my 30-something-year-old brain with me. And only if I didn't have to live in an apartment, or with roommates. And only if I earned as much money as I do now. And I didn't have to go to stupid general education classes, or work at Napa Auto Parts or the Saint Cloud Times or Bremer Financial Services or the Sociology department. And I still had Lucks and Finn, and my neighbors Gary and Brenda, and my studio piano and book collection and nice furniture. And only if I could take with me the understanding that boys are just trying to get a piece of ass when they tell me that I have "the most beautiful eyes [they've] ever seen." (Come on, guys: a little ingenuity never hurt!) And only if...well, the list could go on and on.

The only part of my twenties that I would really, truly love to have back? The naivete with which I viewed people's motives, and the completely unearned trust I gave them. I can't decide if, in my thirties, I'm just smarter about how I view people, or if the distrust and cynicism I feel toward strangers is completely unwarranted. I don't want to be a cynical, jaded girl. I really don't. But I can't imagine what the hell it would take for me to just let my guard down and accept the idea that people aren't gonna eventually screw me over. Hmmm... [MAY 3 2008]

Regret, Part 1 (An Anti-Ode to Bar Boys)
You're funny and sweet and oh-so-unique
But just when the beers are a-pouring.
In the broad light of day (I'm sorry to say)
You're cocky and clueless and boring. [APRIL 26 2008]

Conspicuously Absent
Lots of people tell me they're surprised at how personal I make this blog. Here's the thing: it's not personal at all (with the rare exception of a couple posts made years ago). You'll notice the following topics have remained conspicuously absent over the years—these things (any many more!) are personal:

• my dad's health
• my older brother
• specific men  
• how I typically spend Tuesday nights
• my friends' real lives and issues
• work, coworkers, etc.

So there. [APRIL 24 2008]

Great News!
Brett Favre announced today that he'll be moving to Minneapolis!

When asked why, he explained that now that he's retired, he wants to live as far away from professional football as possible. [APRIL 20 2008]

Big Lake Visits
I'm happy to report that I spent the afternoon / evening in Big Lake, visiting my very best friend in the whole wide world. I really wish I lived up there, so I could be closer to Megan and Myra and Kathy and the kids. I love Megan so much! I can't believe she is a mommy--my crazy little drunk roommate! Sam is SUCH a cute boy!

And here's a picture of Finny—since I just happened to find it on my camera when I downloaded stuff.

[APRIL 19 2008]

Pesky Heroin Addictions
One of my chief dislikes about first dates is the dinstinct feeling I get that these initial meetings are little more than lies and misrepresentations made to package oneself in the best possible light. Like a damn job interview. Which, if you think about it, is a RIPE setup for disappointment and disillusionment later on.

Perhaps it flies in the face of all dating rules, but I'd rather just get shit out in the open, immediately. I don't want to fall madly in love with someone, and then 6 months later find out about that pesky heroin addiction they conveniently neglected to mention. I don't want to fall in love with an illusion of someone; I want to adore that person as is, morning breath and annoying Food Channel-watching habits and all.

Here are things I wish every date knew about me, right off the bat. If he hated these things, then I wouldn't have to waste my time going out with him. Whether these qualities are good, bad, or otherwise is immaterial—it's who I am, and lying about it is pretty damn pointless.

• I like to be outside and actually enjoy getting dirty.
• I think too much. I over-analyze everything. I worry about stuff: poverty, sexism, HIV, politics, war, animal welfare, rural sustainability, my lawn. I used to reject these qualities, but superb and over-active thinking is what allows me to be a writer. I have learned to accept this. You must learn to accept this, too.
• I can make myself "pretty" if I have to, but I really hate it. I usually clip my hair back and wear flannel pants and sweatshirts. I understand that this is not cute, but really: the body underneath is the same regardless of how it's covered.
• On the plus side of this anti-prettiness routine, you can rest happily knowing that I'll never become distressed over a broken nail or a bad hair day. And I can be ready to go just as fast as you can. Or faster.
• I like to spend time alone. Like, a LOT of time alone. I'm not sure whether this is because I haven't met the "right" person, or whether I really am just a solitary person. You should be secure, though, and not take it personally when I don't want to see you every night. Or every other night. Or every three nights.
• I love my dogs. They are allowed on my furniture, and they sleep in my bed. I will always have at least one dog for the rest of my life. This is non-negotiable.
• I am sarcastic. People never know if I truly am the cocky person I sometimes pretend to be. I am not. I have a lot of insecurities, which are better revealed on later dates.
• I am goofy, and fun, and sometimes ridiculous. I'm perfectly willing and completely unembarassed when busting out dance moves in the middle of the grocery store.
• I really and truly don't want to hear about how much money you make, or how many famous people you know, or how your biceps were featured in Muscle magazine. You can impress me much more easily with your intelligence and thoughtfulness and compassion and modesty.
• I have no interest in running a marathon; eating a low-fat, low-carb, organic-only diet; or waking up at dawn to "hit the gym." This is very unlikely to change.

That's all I can think of for now. [APRIL 18 2008]

Little Known Facts

• Unless drunk (or, let's say, accompanied), I cannot fall asleep without doing crossword and Sodoku puzzles before bed.
• I play piano and sing almost every day. I can only imagine how much the neighbors love this.
• Every day, I write down at least 5 things for which I'm grateful. I've been doing this for about 2 years, and it has really changed my attitude and outlook. You should try it.
• I read 70-100 books each year.
• Though I'm a Christian, I do Buddhist meditations pretty regularly.
• Though I'm a Christian, I get horrifically annoyed at holier-than-thou, harsh, judgmental, critical, know-it-all Christian types.
• My ideal life would be lived on a small hobby farm surrounded by lots of animals—including miniature donkeys, ducks, chickens, and lots of dogs.
• When I meet new men, I often tell them my name is Jane Gallagher—just to see if they get it. None of them ever do. It's a little disappointing, but not at all surprising.
• I don't cry very often. People sometimes mistake this for heartless insensitivity. Those people are wrong.
• Loud talkers, impoliteness, and pop music cell phone ringtones make me want to punch people in the face.
• If I could choose the qualities that I inherited from my parents, they would be as follows: I would want my dad's patience, kindness, sense of humor, and laid-back-y-ness. I would want my mom's work ethic, generosity, practicality, and down-to-earth-y-ness.
• I can't pick a genre of music that's my favorite. My ipod includes a little of everything: Refreshments, Counting Crows, 10,000 Maniacs, Madeleine Peyroux, Sneakerpimps, Ani DiFranco, Dr. Dre, Faith Hill, Evanescence, Mike Doughty, Metallica, OutKast, Rachael Yamagata, The Cure, Death Cab for Cutie, The Eagles, REM, Sinatra, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Fiona Apple, Travis Tritt, Weezer, Cowboy Junkies, Marilyn Manson, etc. [APRIL 17 2008]

Important Note to the Driving Public
If you drive a Subaru Forester, and you have a rainbow bumper sticker on its back, then really: there's no need to attach the "Obama" or "Clinton" bumper stickers as well. The assumption has already been made. [APRIL 13 2008]

Overdue Update
Birthday beers in St. Cloud = pretty fun. Myra and Steve did an excellent job of playing along with my ridiculousness. I got hit on about a bazillion times, which was good—and probably necessary—for the ol' ego, but pointless nonetheless. Met cute boys, thought one of them was actually worth talking to, blah blah blah...the story writes itself, doesn't it?

Other than that, I've been doing lots of reading, writing, watching the Twins, walking the dogs, working, and contemplating my space in the vast universe. Typical stuff. It truly does beat shopping, don't you know... [APRIL 13 2008]

Old Love Notes
I was doing some filing this morning and came across some of Mikey's old love notes to me. Okay—maybe not love notes, but just little notes he'd leave for me sometimes. He signed some of them "Brett." (As in Brett Favre, if you don't know me in the real world.) That's really cute. I'm glad to have an ex-boyfriend like Mikey, who I still think is the damn bee's knees. Mikey rocks.

I'm going to the Twins game tonight at 7:10, with my friend from work. We're sitting up by the press booth, so that'll be fun. Then tomorrow night, I'm heading up to St. Cloud for my birthday. Am gonna go re-live some college bar days with Myra and Steve. Should be a fun time. Will let you know! [APRIL 4 2008]

Smooth Like Silk
So let me set up the situation: I'm walking through the hallway at work, and there is a hot-hot-hot man coming toward me. He's adorable. I feel my heart race just a bit. My skin suddenly feels nearly as hot as this Adonis who's approaching.

Being the smoothie that I am, I decide to, you know, throw him a little vibe. Maybe see if I can't get a smile or a conversation out of him. I know that if he can first notice my unquestionably hot body, he can certainly learn to appreciate my unquestionably hot brain...in time, of course. We'd start dating, eventually make a joint purchase, fall madly in love, move to the suburbs, the whole thing. We'd have a couple kids, maybe. They'd be tall with dark brown hair and astonishing blue eyes. They'd get full scholarships to Yale. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

He gets within 10 feet. Time slows. Eventually freezes.

I smile. He smiles. This is getting good, dear readers.

"Hi," he says. And that's where our love story will begin, I decide. I will remember this moment with tear-streaked eyes on our wedding day.

And I fall, flat to the ground. Twist my ankle, and hit the carpet with all the delicacy and grace you can imagine. Thud? Oh, yeah.

Now I'm beet red. "Are you okay?" he asks.

I am fine, I am fine, I am fine. Undo! Control-Z! That didn't just happen! No, God, No! Ask any of my friends: my motor skills are usually 100% functional! Ask them how graceful I look when I spike that volleyball over the 6'5" guy across the net! This is not me!

"Yeah," I reply, peeling myself from the ground. "I think I just bruised my ego a little."

He smiles. I smile. Our love story is over. [MARCH 26 2008]

Mike Doughty Concert
Forgot to mention the weekend. Had a kick-ass time at Mike Doughty's concert at First Ave. My friend Derek was an excellent date, and he did a tremendous job putting up with my drunken belligerence. The concert itself was really short—which was a disappointment, but I'm pretty sure it was a decent show. I don't really know, to be honest; I had about 15 beers. But it was fun. Went to Glueks beforehand to have some grub and a couple beers, went to the show, then came home and sat around until I decided I wanted to sleep. Pretty uneventful, but a nice time nonetheless.

I got up at 6:00 this morning to walk the dogs with my neighbor Cathy. I was glad to have done it, but it sure seems dark and cold that early! I think we're going again tomorrow... [MARCH 25 2008]

Notes from Today

• Love doesn't mean, "I'll love you until..."
  Love doesn't mean, "I'll love you unless..."
  Love means, "I love you." Period.
• Yes, telling the truth is a noble idea—but it isn't always a good idea. Before telling the truth, ask whether the truth is (1) kind, (2) necessary, and (3) true.
  
• Drunken mistakes made in one's twenties are (forgivable) predictors of kick-ass personalities.
  
• The only way I will ever feel as fun and free and relaxed as I do after having 5 beers is to always have 5 beers.
  
• Emotions can be expressed without lying or feeling ridiculous. [Note: This was just a theory presented to me; it has not yet proven true in my experience.]

That's all for now. [MARCH 24 2007]

Ambivalence
Noun. (1) Simultaneous and contradictory attitudes or feelings toward an object, person, or action. (2) Continual fluctuation between one thing and its opposite. (3) Uncertainty as to which approach to follow.

I'm ambivalent about almost everything right now. More accurately, I'm a combination of apathetic and ambivalent. What to do? Well, nothing for now. Sit home with my crazy, perfect, beautiful dogs and see what happens. [MARCH 24 2007]

I Like Boys
They think I am funny, and brilliant, and gorgeous. [MARCH 16 2008]

PostSecret and Understanding
Every week, I know exactly how someone on PostSecret feels. [MARCH 16 2008]

Melting Snow, and Everything that Comes with It
So far I've filled four bags with a winter's worth of dogshit—and that's just what's visible on top of the melting snow. Believe me, this job is as fun as it is rewarding. [MARCH 15 2008]

Why I Love Jane
Okay, I couldn't help it. I re-read The Catcher in the Rye---early---and even though I haven't finished my other "required" reading. And here, dear readers, is why I love Jane (and why I love how Holden loves Jane):

"She was a funny girl, old Jane. I wouldn’t exactly describe her as beautiful. She knocked me out, though. She was sort of muckle-mouthed. I mean when she was talking and she got excited about something, her mouth sort of went in about fifty directions, her lips and all. That killed me. And she never really closed it all the way, her mouth. She was always reading, and she read very good books. She read a lot of poetry and all. She was the only one, outside my family, that I ever showed Allie’s baseball mitt to, with all of the poems written on it."

"Most girls, if you hold hands with them, their goddam hand dies on you, or else they think they have to keep moving their hand all the time, as if they were afraid they’d bore you or something. Jane was different. We’d get into a goddam movie or something, and right away we’d start holding hands, and we wouldn’t quit till the movie was over. And without changing position or making a big deal out of it. You never even worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not. All you knew was, you were happy. You really were." [MARCH 10 2008]

Ode to My Body, Part 2
My forehead wrinkle
once made me crinkle
At the thought of all I've thunk.
But it's proof of brains behind the beauty!
My zany brain is quite a cutie! [MARCH 8 2008]

Ode to My Body, Part 1
My endless, lanky legs and arms:
I've often overlooked your charms.
Though buying clothes, you make me scoff,
You look amazing when they're off! [MARCH 6 2008]

30 Life Lessons Accumulated Over 30 Years

1. No matter how smart you are, you don't know everything.
2. No matter how perfect you are, you will make mistakes. Some big ones.
3. Love is a two-way street, with lots of One Way and Yield signs.
4. Love requires patience.
5. Marriage requires work.
6. Marry someone who treats you with kindness and respect.
7. Don't marry someone who doesn't—no matter what.
8. Don't quibble over stupid details.
9. Nagging is neither attractive nor productive.
10. Divorce is excrutiatingly, indescribably difficult. It will make you a different person. Avoid it. If you can't avoid it, know that you will get through it.
11. Don't allow anyone to speak for you. No matter how good their intentions, they don't know what's best for you.
12. Your "circle of life" can, with a little work, be stretched into an oval, squared off around the corners, and built into a perfectly good rectangle.
13. Outer beauty does not, will not, cannot last.
14. Inner beauty does not, will not, cannot erode.
15. Read everything you can get your hands on.
16. Be grateful for everything you have. Write it down. Recognize how blessed you are. Say thank you.
17. Social norms are for normal people, and there is no greater insult than to be called "normal."
18. If you love someone, tell them so.
19. If you hate someone, don't tell them so.
20. Shave your legs (or, as the Boy Scouts say, "Be Prepared").
21. Wear comfortable shoes. Take care of your feet.
22. Listen to good music as often as you can.
23. Always have at least one dog.
24. Pretend all those annoying drivers on the road are your mom. Let them cut you off. Smile at them.
25. No one else is responsible for making you happy.
26. Be nice.
27. Meditate regularly.
28. Don't worry about tomorrow.
29. Think.
30. Surround yourself with good people who make you smile. [MARCH 3 2008]

Alexander Pope's Essay on Man
Excerpts from my all-time favorite...enjoy.

Presumptuous man!  the reason wouldst thou find,
Why formed so weak, so little, and so blind?
First, if thou canst, the harder reason guess,
Why formed no weaker, blinder, and no less!

Then say not man’s imperfect, Heaven in fault;
Say rather, man’s as perfect as he ought;
His knowledge measured to his state and place,
His time a moment, and a point his space.

If to be perfect in a certain sphere,
What matter, soon or late, or here or there?
The blest today is as completely so,
As who began a thousand years ago.

All Nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good;
And spite of pride, in erring reason’s spite,
One truth is clear: Whatever is, is right.

Friday
Vacation rocks. I didn't go into work today. Instead, I stayed home with 5 dogs, who will be in my home until next Friday. I'm dog-sitting Myra and Steve's 3 dogs while they're in Nicaragua for a week. So far, so good.

I got all excited about my summer garden today, and ordered a whole bunch of seeds. It'll be so nice to garden again, since I couldn't do it all last summer. This year I'm growing the following:

• tomatoes (yellow pear, cherry, and fresh salsa—maybe some "normal" ones, too, but I never seem to be able to use them all)
• cilantro (mmm...pico de gallo)
• cucumber (double-feature hybrid)
• beets (Detroit dark red, medium top)
• radishes (cherry belle)
• peas (super sugar snap - edible pod)
• sweet red and green peppers (California wonder)
• green beans (Heavyweight II)
• jalapeno (mmm...fiestas)
• green onion (organic, evergreen bunching)
• sweet corn (sun and stars hybrid)

Note to my favorite neighbors, Gary and Brenda: you will have to help me eat much of this. [FEBRUARY 29 2008]

Bookslut
I'm a bookslut. I'll read anything. [FEBRUARY 28 2008]

Baby Zachman!
Samuel was born last night. Hooray! Welcome to the world, li'l angel buddy! I am gonna be the very best auntie you've ever imagined, and I'm gonna spoil you like crazy! [FEBRUARY 28 2008]

PumpChumpaLumpaBump
Has it been 30 days yet? [FEBRUARY 27 2008]

Beautiful!
I thought I was having a bad day, and then tonight came. I got home from work and there was a BEAUTIFUL bouquet of tulips (my favorite flower!) waiting for me on my doorstep with a really nice, sweet, thoughtful card. And then I got a message from my very best girlfriend in the whole wide world. She is being induced AS I WRITE, so her first baby, little Sam, will be here any moment! I am so excited to be a (make-believe) auntie again, and I hope that everything's going well for Megan right now.

Yay!

So why the bad day? I've been trying (as yesterday's "Body-Ache Inducing" post suggests) to practice self-control over my smoking. I haven't yet been able to quit, but I'm forcing myself to schedule times and stick ONLY to those times. Not fun when you just "need" one after a crappy meeting, or a crappy whatever. But it's probably a healthy thing for me to do--it just makes me INCREDIBLY crabby. [FEBRUARY 26 2008]

Random Memory
I had a boyfriend in college. His name was Brian. He called me "Sweet Pea" for many, many moons. Then, after a while, he just started calling me "Pea." He said I wasn't sweet anymore. He was probably right. [FEBRUARY 25 2008]

Body-Ache Inducing
Have you ever had to practice utter, complete, body-ache-inducing self-control for endless hours and days? It sucks. [FEBRUARY 25 2008]

7:10 PM
But why would I give her a back rub if there was nothing in it for m.....oh! I get it! To make her feel good! [FEBRUARY 24 2008]

Text
If you ever want to piss me off, send me a text message. I'm not 15. [FEBRUARY 23 2008]

You Don't Say!
"Many also find it useful to learn to simulate some degree of surface conformism in order to mask their inherent unconventionality."

Tremdendous Brunettes
Mike Doughty's got one of the best songs ever, just in case you didn't know. (And the next song on the album, too—"I Hear the Bells"—is pretty damn good.) He is, honestly, the most lyrically gifted artist I've ever heard—because of the rhythm and cadence and sometimes goofiness of the way he combines words. Though not included below, my favorite "Tremendous Brunettes" line is this: "to see lovely girls and to not put the moves on them." I would marry Mike Doughty if he asked. He really should ask, if he's smart at all.

All them tremendous brunettes around,
All them tremendous brunettes.

Praise my baby genius
She skips in the shade of the lonely sour apple tree
While she snaps on her gum
Her gleaming teeth bared and the shine that she shows to me

Tremendous brunettes around.
All them tremendous brunettes. [FEBRUARY 22 2008]

Happy Birthday Karen!
Today is my big sister's birthday. I love her very much. [FEBRUARY 21 2008]

Date Applications Now Being Accepted
Mike Doughty is coming to First Ave on Saturday, March 22. I would like to go see him; it's been a couple years since I saw him last. I am now accepting applications for dates.

And just to get this out in the open and be