Big Plans

No. I don't actually have any big plans. I need to make big plans but I find that I'm a person who plans to plan. I'll say, "I need to plan meals better" or "I need to plan my career move." I'm great at planning to plan. I need to follow through better.

I want to be better about planning meals. I hate waiting until it's dinner time to think about what to fix. I try to eat healthy, and planning ahead is a really important aspect of that.

I want to start a new career. It shouldn't even be that difficult for me to do what I need to do. I've asked the right people the right questions. I just need to sit down and make a plan to get it done.

So, once again, I'm planning to plan but have yet to actually make a plan.

I'm even planning to plan to blog every day for a month. I thought it would be a good idea to make a list of "bigs" I wanted to write about. What do I actually have? A sticky note with "Blog - Big" written on it, stuck to my desk.

So, OK. Big list:
Big brothers
Big changes
Big mouths
Big powder (from our upcoming ski trip, I hope)
Big dogs
Big kids
Something about books, movies, songs with "Big" in the title

OK, short list. But at least I have the start of a plan. Baby steps to my big plans.

Big Kid Ideas

I have mentioned before my love for the comic strip "Cul de Sac." It's cute but not too cutesy. And I'm pretty sure the little girl in it is the child I should have had.

Click comic to enlarge.

A kid that likes the sound of a post-apocalyptic landscape is my kind of kid. I also like to think I'd be like the mom here -- just taking it all in stride.

A Big Push

It's been a while since I've been out here blogging. Little updates on Facebook? Sure. But nothing big. So, when I got the e-mail from NaBloPoMo that April's theme is BIG, I thought I should go for it.

Last time I tried to blog every day for a month, I made it. That was back in November. Since then, you've gotten to read about my dog's run-in with a vicious wild feline and her recovery, but little else. Speaking of which, she's doing much better.You can see her wounds are healed and the hair is growing back. She's wearing her normal collar again. But still likes to lay as close to me as she can get. To paraphrase Groucho Marx, if she were any closer, she'd be in back of me.

For a few weeks after the incident, Ripley didn't want to go outside by herself. She was pretty gun shy -- or cat shy. But now, she's back to her old self, barking at the neighbors and the neighbors' dogs. She even managed to give me a big bruise while we played together. She grabbed for her toy but got my fleece-covered arm instead. Little dog has a big bite.

She's back to thinking she's a big dog again, and nothing can defeat her. And that's fine with me.

Yes, she's spoiled. Why do you ask?

My butt is almost on the seat here.

It's hard not to spoil her when she's been hurting. She's much better now but still not 100 percent.

What I watched: "Julie & Julia"

I just finished watching "Julie & Julia." No, really, just five minutes ago, I finished watching the movie. And now, I don't know if I'm inspired to write or cook or crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head because I'm never going to get a book deal out of this blog!

The movie is cute and sweet and funny and inspiring but not cloying and has just a dash of spice. Meryl Streep is brilliant -- but how can you not love Meryl Streep -- as Julia Child. Stanley Tucci is her amazingly sweet and loving husband. Jane Lynch shows up in a small scene as Julia's sister and, as Jane Lynch is wont to do, steals my heart.

Amy Adams is Julie Powell, a government worker who takes on the challenge of cooking every single recipe in Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" in one year -- and blogs about it. (The bitch gets a book deal and a movie out of it! Yes, of course I'm envious. Why didn't I think of that? Well, except for the fact that I know I could never boil a lobster alive or bone a duck. But I could write the hell out of reading about it! And I did make beef and barley soup for dinner tonight. Yes, I know it's not French. Shut up.)

I loved this movie. There's not much more I can say about it. I have no objective critiques. I just loved it. It made me happy. It was like a really great dinner, with a really great wine and really great friends.

You shoulda seen the other guy

Poor Ripley. She cornered a cat in the back yard this morning. For some reason effing little cat couldn't jump the fence. Which leads me to wonder, how the hell did it get in the yard in the first place.

A trip to our truly wonderful vet and $350 later, Ripley is home, resting, looking a bit like Frankenripley, with her stitches and drain tubes. A slightly, possibly disturbing picture below.

And just like that I'm no longer thinking I want another cat. Grrr.

Guilty Pleasures Friday

After spending a good portion of the day setting up body work for my car, I allowed myself a small indulgence this afternoon. What's my guilty pleasure? "The Pretender" on Hulu* and dry cereal.

You know, it's the little things.

*I can't help myself. Surveillance videos that zoom in and have multiple angles, a good guy who's a genius, bad guys who are pure evil, shifty eyes, knowing looks. All it's missing is a villain twirling his mustache and tying a girl to railroad tracks. It's so cheesy, and I love it so much I'm going to marry it.

What I watched: "Drag Me To Hell"

"Drag Me To Hell" is a prime example of what happens when a movie is built up by friends and critics: I was disappointed. If I hadn't had high expectations, I probably would have loved the movie. But with the build up and the hype, the movie fell flat for me. It didn't have enough humor and cheesiness, and the effects were too good for it to be a classic B movie. And even though I thought the ending was cool -- no spoilers -- I also thought it was kind of predictable.
That said, this is probably a movie I will watch again some day. And it is worth watching. Just don't pop it in the DVD player expecting one of the all-time great horror flicks. It was fun and offered up some good gross-out moments and laugh-0ut-loud scenes and even made me jump a few times. Still, it's not scary enough to compete with "Night of the Living Dead" or even "Jeepers Creepers" for straight-up horror and it doesn't begin to measure up to the likes of "Zombieland" or "Shaun of the Dead" for horror humor.

Maybe a cameo by Bruce Campbell (or *that guy* who made an appearance in "Zombieland") would have helped. And Justin Long didn't get have to die or get hit in the junk, so I guess that's something.

I'm like fricking Snow White over here

The birds have suddenly discovered my back yard. Earlier today, there were several juncos in the yard. They look like this:

Not my photography!

They were hanging out around the feeder and bird bath.

A little while later, a pair of what I think are thrushes showed up. Not being a professional photographer -- or birder, for that matter -- I didn't get a picture. And now, I can't seem to find a picture on the great big Web. Whatever they were, they were too big for my wee bird feeder, pulling it all askew and askance. And they kept landing on the bird bath, looking for the water that wasn't there.

I can take a hint. I went out and filled the bird bath (despite the temp being just at freezing) and added some seed to the feeder.

Now, I have five robins in my back yard, enjoying the hell out of the birdbath. I took some pictures, but you may not be able to tell what it is.

There's one on the bird bath, one on the ground to the right of the bath and one on the rock in front of the bath. Really! Robins! In January. Silly birds.

This is me today. It's actually really cool to sit and watch the birds -- even if it is keeping me from doing actual work.

UPDATE: The unidentified bird returned today, and with the help of binoculars and WhatBird.com, I can safely say it is the Red-Shafted Northern Flicker. This wav file helped, as well.

I can also safely say I have just become my mother.

In which I contemplate a chicken/egg scenario

A couple days ago, I received a catalog from Colorado Cyclist in the mail. It is addressed to me, and I get it because I have purchased bike stuff from them in the past -- bike stuff for me. Remember that. It will be important in a second.

Flipping through the catalog this evening, I noticed something odd. There are six pages of women's clothing and 30 (three zero!) pages of men's clothing. And one half of the six pages of women's clothing is bike shoes -- the only women's shoes in the catalog, mind you.

I know men are -- in general -- more into cycling than women. But that's a very, very, very large generalization. And I wonder, are there so few pages of women's clothes because women really don't cycle as much as guys OR do women not cycle as much because there is so little out there in the way of cycling clothes, equipment, etc. designed specifically for us.

Chicken? Egg?

Speaking of nostalgia

The car I test drove this week was equipped with XM Satellite Radio, and whenever I drive a car with satellite radio, I immediately tune in to First Wave ("classic alternative"). While tooling around town -- and out on some country roads -- I heard "Forever Young" by Alphaville.

This song came out way back in 1984, so I'm totally dating myself with it. But didn't I think the lyrics were profound? Didn't I think they were written just for my angst-ridden teen life?

Let's dance in style, lets dance for a while
Heaven can wait we're only watching the skies
Hoping for the best but expecting the worst
Are you going to drop the bomb or not?

This song reminds me of my days working at the movie theater and the huge crush I had on the cute college boy with the red hair. Ah, memories.

I hate cooking

But Mom tried to get me to like it. One of the things that made me want to cook was this book:Published in 1965, the book was around before I was, so Mom must have bought it for my older brothers. And it was marketed to both girls and boys, which seems pretty progressive for 1965. The book sits on my shelf now. I brought it from Mom's house for the nostalgia -- and because it's actually kinda fun.

The "Bunny Salad" (made with pear "bunnies") was my favorite recipe. I honestly can't remember actually making it, but look how cute.

And pay no attention to that "Rocket Salad" in the upper right-hand corner. I never noticed it as a kid but my (perverted) adult mind doesn't exactly see a "rocket" there.

Bonus:
I just found this cookbook, tucked inside the kids' cookbook: It's Betty Crocker's "Piggy Bank Casseroles; A Special Collection of Penny-Wise Recipes," copyright 1970. Betty writes, "Dear Friend, Feeling the squeeze from the high cost of feeding a family? (Who isn't these days!)"

Betty Crocker has always been relevant, hasn't she. With recipes like Bologna Biscuits with Vegetable, Frank-Bean Casserole and Bean and Wiener Bake (yep, two beans and wienie recipes!), she'll show you how to save money, because "Whatever the reason, when your budget cries 'Help,' it's casseroles to the rescue."

Awful songs

It's taken me two days to come up with it, but I finally have my answer to Lisa's question from "If ... (Questions for the Game of Life)": If you had to choose the worst song ever composed, which one would you pick?

For me it has to be "MacArthur Park." According to Wikipedia: "In 1992, humorist Dave Barry conducted a poll among his readers (as recorded in Dave Barry's Book of Bad Songs) of the worst songs ever. Barry's readers selected Harris's version of 'MacArthur Park' as the worst song ever recorded, both in terms of Worst Lyrics and Worst Overall Song.

So, I'm not alone.

And with lyrics like those below, don't you think it's a perfect song to be stuck in my head on my birthday?

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down...
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again
Oh, no!

Jan.1, Jan. 4, same difference

Happy New Year! Yeah, I know it's already Jan. 4, and I'm just now getting around to my first post of the new decade (Ack! How did that happen?!?). But I've been posting over at my Boot Camp Diary (you can read about my workout antics here). And I've been trying to de-clutter my home, which I'm finding to be a losing battle. How many boxes of books can one woman have? I've also spent some time with friends I don't get to see as often as I'd like, watched some Ultimate fighting (nothing brings out my violent side quite like watching guys beat the living hell out of each other), watched almost the entire second season of "Flight of the Conchords," (which is fun and weird and just plain awesome) and watched several movies, including "District 9" (meh), "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" (squee!), "The Last Picture Show" (classic) and "Terminator Salvation" (bleh). I finished reading "Anansi Boys"by Neil Gaiman, which lead to me reading his online journal and deciding I love him even more than I did after hearing him read "The Graveyard Book."

So, you see, it's been a busy year so far (OK, not really) and that's why I'm just now getting to my first post of 2010. Which, I read is to be pronounced "twenty-ten" and I plan to say "two thousand ten" just to be contrary.

Thank you, Lisa

A few weeks ago, my good friend Lisa -- over at Grandma's Briefs -- posted a clip from "Joyeux Noel (Merry Christmas)." I promptly put it on my queue. Then waited, hoping to watch it for Christmas.

It arrived in the mail the day after Christmas, but it was still a perfect way to wrap up my holiday.

Based on actual events during World War I, "Joyeux Noel" tells the story of a spontaneous truce declared by Scottish, French and German troops in the trenches on Christmas Eve 1914.

Click over to Lisa's site to watch the video. Then immediately add it to your Netflix or Blockbuster queue. Even if you are a bit Grinchy about holidays, this movie just might make you believe in Christmas miracles. And if you have any interest in history, make sure you watch the interview with the film's maker.

Thanks for turning me on to this movie, Lisa. I loved it. Two thumbs up.

To sleep, perchance to dream

Lately, I've been feeling pretty tired and run down. I went to the doctor. She ran a bevy of blood tests and came up with nothing. I figured it was my thyroid, because it goes crazy every now and again. But it wasn't that. I'm still waiting on the results of one of the blood tests. Maybe it will hold some answers.

In the meantime, based on all the information I gave her, my doctor prescribed a sleep study. If you've never had to do one, I suggest trying not to. Even though I've been so tired I feel like I could fall asleep anywhere, I had a lot of trouble sleeping there. For one thing, I was covered with electrodes. Plus, there was a camera on me all night, and they asked me to sleep on my back. Which isn't all that comfy. I ended up taking a sleep aid so when they woke me this morning, I felt really groggy. The S.O. drove me there, so he picked me up and took me for coffee. Still, it wasn't until after lunch I started feeling somewhat myself again. Just a few hours later, and I'm already starting to fade.

The rest of the evening will be spent watching movies and relaxing. Tomorrow, we are cooking Korean food, playing video games and watching movies. I know I won't hear anything until next week, so -- despite my inclination to worry about everything all the time -- I'm going to try not to think about it. I'm actually more worried that they'll say there's nothing wrong. I know that sounds silly, but at least when they find something, you can work toward fixing it.

I found that when I'm lying awake in a strange place, my mind works hard to entertain me. In my head, I am one awesome guitar player. But then, I bet you knew that.

My thoughts exactly

Mutts by Patrick McDonnell

Although it does look like we might get an actual, honest-to-goodness, real white Christmas for once, so maybe it's not such a bad thing. I can stay in, drink hot cocoa, read, have some of the chili I made yesterday. Maybe not a bad thing at all ....

until I have to go out in it later. Please don't make me go out in it later.

Merry Christmas to me!

I bought myself another guitar. It's slightly used -- but just slightly. Mostly, it was played by my guitar teacher. It's a Washburn, and I really like it.

I know that it won't magically turn me into a great guitar player. But I know it will help me play better. It's not just the tools we use, but good tools can help.

Isn't it pretty?

How cute is this?

Last year at this time, I whined about not getting a care package from my mom. My lovely sister-in-law took that as a challenge and sent me a box of goodies. Being the amazing people they are, my brother and sister-in-law once again sent a Christmas care package, stuffed with the World's Best Sugar Cookies, among other items. Tucked in the box was an ornament just for me.

Check out this guy, decked out in a top hat and Christmas scarf. He's like a little Bob Cratchit hippo rushing home to Tiny Tim.

Here he rushes to the Gingerbread Bakery for treats for his hippo kids at home.

You might notice my favorite book, peeking into the frame back there!

We haven't put a tree up yet (and may not), but Bob here will have a place of honor for Christmas regardless. He's so goshdarn cute. I can't stand it. And my family is so goshdarn good to me. I can't stand that either.

In which I love the snow

The S.O. and I headed for the hills this week for some skiing and much needed R&R. Unfortunately the S.O. didn't get much rest, as I'll discuss shortly.

We went to Copper Mountain for an early ski outing. I say early because as of yesterday, the mountain only had seven of 23 lifts open and 30 of their more than 100 trails open. But it was the middle of the week, early in the season, so we didn't have to deal with a zillion and a half people.

The trip ended up being a more expensive outing than originally planned. Here's why. My first run down the mountain I couldn't feel my left foot -- at all. It was totally numb. Obviously, there was a problem with my boots. I decided to buy ski boots a couple years ago, thinking I would be so much more comfortable in MY own boots, rather than rentals. Turns out, I was wrong, at first anyway. Apparently, the first pair was sold to me by the newbie in the shop, and he sold me boots that were about two sizes to big. The best part of that was I could have lost my toenails! Yay!

A more experienced salesman helped me find the proper fit and exchanged the boots for me. I think we only managed to ski in those boots once or twice and they seemed fine. It's been a couple years since we skied, mostly because life has a tendency to sometimes get in the way. So, did my feet change in the intervening seasons? Did my calves get even bigger? I don't really know. But I did know I couldn't ski like that. We asked around and ended up at SureFoot. They suggested orthotics to put my foot in a neutral position. The S.O. was suspicious of the sales pitch, but I went for it anyway. More than $200 later, I have custom orthotics and a much more comfortable skiing experience.

I also took a private lesson at $75 (but hey that was half price, so it's a bargain). Nearly 10 years ago, when I first came to live in Colorado, I took a group ski lesson. It was a miserable experience. Two of the women could ski and needed little help. One woman could barely stand on her skis and demanded all of the instructors attention. Apparently the instructor assumed I was with the first two women and basically ignored me the entire time. Add to that it was April and icy and you'll wonder why I ever went back to a mountain.

Cut to yesterday. After just a few minutes with my instructor, Mike, I was skiing more efficiently and confidently and having more fun than ever before.

So, it was more money than I'd planned to spend, but I'm skiing better and more comfortably, and we're just two days into the season. So it's worth it.

On the downside of money spending, the windshield has a nasty crack that started from the most wee little star ever. It's too big to have repaired, so there's another expense added to the trip.

And the S.O.'s company cannot function without him, so he spent most of our two days away troubleshooting -- even though he was on vacation. They knew he'd be gone. Either they really can't function without him or they really hate the fact someone may be having a good time. Maybe they should ban cell phones from the mountain. I threatened to throw his phone out the window of our moving car, but it wouldn't really have solved anything. And he would have ended up having to buy a new one and added to our expenses.

All in all, though, it was a great little getaway. Our room was cozy and quiet. The snow wasn't great, but it was great fun. I'm ready for more.