Big Punch

That's for the woman with the big mouth. Don't I look like a big bad ass?

Big Pivotal Pics

I am borrowing an idea from my good friend Lisa over at Grandma's Briefs for this post. She wrote about 12 movies that had an impact on her life so far. At the end of her post she asks for our pivotal pics. Because I thought the subject deserved a bit of thought, I decided to post here rather than just comment there. (But please do visit Grandma's Briefs if you don't already.)

Without further ado, here are my:

10 Pivotal Pics

1. Grease (1978) -- I had no idea I could love a musical. Before this movie, I thought all musicals were in Technicolor with lots of old people dancing to songs that were oh-so boring.

2. and 3. Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986) (but not the others in the franchise) -- These movies have a tough chick as the main character, thrust into a situation beyond her control, totally kicking ass. They inspire me to be tough.

4. The Breakfast Club (1985) -- This movie helped me realize the "cool" kids don't have the answers either.

5. Say Anything (1989) -- Although pivotal, I'd have to say pivotal in a negative way. Why can't every man be Lloyd Dobler?

6. Chasing Amy (1997) -- This movie helped me get over a bad break up and made me fall in love with Jason Lee and help my friend write a song.

7. Dawn of the Dead (2004) -- In the past, movies about the undead gave me nightmares -- yes, even the silly ones. This movie kicked off a spree (for me) of zombie movies that helped me put that fear to rest.

8. Shaun of the Dead (2004) -- This one completely eliminated the fear and sealed my love for all things zombie.

9. Roman Holiday (1953) -- I'm embarrassed to say I saw this for the first time just a few short years ago. Suddenly, I wanted to be Audrey Hepburn. I wanted to be a princess in disguise flitting around Rome with Gregory Peck. The movie is fun and romantic and sad and really beautiful.

10. Arsenic and Old Lace (1944) -- I saw this movie on PBS in 2002 or 2003. I didn't have cable so I watched what I could. This movie awoke my love for classic films. It's hilarious. Also, they don't make Hollywood movie stars like Cary Grant anymore.

Big Mouth - A Rant

I work with a woman who is an obnoxious know-it-all. The one good thing is I only have to see her about once a month, but in that hour or so, I really want to punch her in the face. Yes, I know how violent that sounds, but she is horrible -- and totally disrespectful.

Yesterday, during our monthly meeting, she interrupted people, put in her two-cents worth whether it was wanted or needed, rolled her eyes at other people's suggestions and told her bosses their idea was a waste of her time.

One of the things she loves to do is going to stop, and she is not happy about it. The funny thing is she somehow thinks this thing that's actually a totally separate thing and takes extra time is better than the new thing that will be integrated into our daily schedule. She actually said she doesn't have time to do anything extra, yet that's exactly what she's doing now. And I happen to know that the thing she's doing is totally stressful for the other people who have to do it.

Our bosses asked us to have some thank-you cards made for donors. It's a nice thing to do and shouldn't take more than a few minutes, and it's not even something she herself has to do. That was when she did the most appalling thing, she said to our boss, "When I saw that come through my e-mail, I said, 'Screw that. I don't have time for that.'"

My jaw almost hit the floor. You don't have time to ask someone to make a thank-you card for the people who essentially pay your salary? Holy crap! I seriously almost came out of my chair and I can't believe she wasn't asked to leave. She must be really good at her job otherwise. She sort of changed her tune when pretty much everyone there berated her for her attitude. Yet, even then I don't think she thought we were right.

Thank goodness I don't have to see her for another month. In the meantime, I know whose face I'll picture next time I take a boxing class.

Kind of a Big Deal

So, my new guitar teacher told me he heard from my old guitar teacher, and my old guitar teacher is playing with a band that opened for Willie Nelson over the weekend. My six degrees of Willie Nelson just got smaller.

And even though I'm not really a big country fan, I do love Willie Nelson. So, just because I do, here's a video. Which has nothing at all to do with my old guitar teacher.

One More Big Brother

I have one more big brother to tell you about. Joe was the middle brother of the three. And I think he watched one too many episodes of the Brady Bunch and took that whole middle child thing to heart. He always thought he got the short end of the stick. But he was also the trouble maker.

"Santa" had to start wrapping the presents he left under the tree or Joe would wake up early and announce to everyone what they got. Joe would find everyone's Easter basket and tell us where they were hidden. Joe would pick fights with Jim who was bigger and wasn't allowed to fight back -- until Mom finally had enough and said go for it. Then Joe moved on to Mike, who fought like the Tasmanian Devil and could inflict damage. So it was on to me who was too small to fight back and just cried to Mom or yelled, "Quit it!" a million times.

But Joe was also the star, earning Athlete-of-the-Week honors from our local paper for his pitching skills. I remember hearing how his fast ball was on par with professionals. And he and his beautiful wife produced the first grandchild of the family. (And yes, I do love his wife. She's been in the family longer than not and probably deserves her own blog post. And I'm not just saying that to suck up in case she reads this. I mean it!)

This photo (taken many, many years ago) shows four generations of our family: My maternal grandmother, Mom, Joe and his daughter, Heather.

It's true we fought a lot. A lot. But I think I'm tough because of it. With three older brothers I learned not to take crap from anyone.

Big Nap

Irrefutable proof that I am not -- as originally believed -- queen of my castle.

Big Butts

Last summer, when my niece came to visit, we went to the zoo -- twice. As we looked through the photos, we found that many animals did not want their picture taken. So we ended up with a lot of pictures of critter rear ends. Then, it became our goal to photograph as many animal behinds as possible.

We got zebra butts:

And elephant butts:


















And, of course, hippo butts:

Big-Ass Spider

I have been pretty good lately about cooking more. And for the most part, I cook healthy meals, with fresh, whole ingredients.

Tonight's dinner was Vietnamese-style beef and noodle broth. It's kind of like pho, traditional Vietnamese soup. I thought it tasted pretty good, but the S.O. thought it needed some tweaking. I think I can accommodate him and keep it fairly healthy.

But the real reason for this post isn't to share the recipe, it's to tell you about what I found in the basil. Because I don't have any kind of green-thumb whatsoever, I buy fresh herbs in these flat plastic packages. They're pretty convenient, and I don't usually waste too much that way. Tonight, I opened the package to pull out some basil for the soup and found a big-ass black spider.

I'm not usually terribly squeamish about spiders, but this one was sitting in my basil. And I freaked a bit. And by a bit, I mean I pretty much lost it, slamming the package closed and calling the S.O. to deal with it. (He washed it down the sink.)

I put the basil in a colander to rinse it and assure myself that Charlotte didn't leave any babies behind. I was thisclose to just throwing the entire package into the garbage -- the outdoor garbage. But I know that would have been really wasteful.

Still, I have to admit my skin is kind of still crawling.

Big Fraidy Cat

Yesterday's weather produced nothing more than a small cloud burst and lots of rumbling. Ripley doesn't like thunder.As you can probably tell.

Hi ya, Big Boy

Yesterday, I went to my friend's house so she could cut my hair and make it look like a color that actually exists in nature (yes, they call in "Natural Instincts" but it doesn't look all that natural when you put it over pre-existing dyed blond hair, but that's probably a story for another entry). She recently had a baby boy, and this is the first time I got to see him -- other than a picture on Facebook, in which he looked oddly spray tanned. (He's not.)

During the course of the afternoon, I got to hold the boy a few times. He's quite cute and seems so tiny. I held him and walked around with him for a bit while my friend made us some lunch. During that time, he decided it would be a really good idea to pee and let some leak out the diaper -- just a couple of drops, but still it's pee. I have to wonder if I should be flattered.

It turns out that having a kid is kind of a big job. And my friend, who recently turned 40, isn't so sure she wants to try for a second one. I don't judge -- OK, yeah, I'm Judgey McJudgerson, but I don't judge my friends in regards to their parenting choices and styles -- but she did seem to be pretty darn tired and was obviously feeling like she was nothing more than a dairy for this little man.

Don't get me wrong, she's deliriously happy with this baby. She was just exhausted and realizing (as I'm sure all new parents do, no matter how prepared) that having a kid is way more work than they thought.

I have accepted the fact that the universe doesn't want me to have a baby. But there is a part of me that thinks the universe has a grand scheme to lull me into a false sense of security, then years from now, when I'm contentedly settled into my mid-40s -- BAM! -- pregnant. Is it wrong that I think the universe is trying to pull a long con on me?

Another Big Brother

A couple days ago, I told you about the oldest of my three older brothers. Now, let me tell you a little about the youngest of my three older brothers.

My niece and brother, high above the zoo.

We're separated in age by almost four years but were close enough in age growing up to have gone to elementary school together for a bit, walking to school together. And close enough to actually play together some. He might not remember -- or might not like to admit -- that he helped me set up a doll house at the top of the stairwell so my "Sunshine Family" could live next to a waterfall.

Me and Mike at our aunt's wedding. I didn't get to be a flower girl, thus the pout.

We were also close enough in age to have fights and arguments, but I must be getting old because I don't remember them ever being that bad. (Not like some of the other fights in our house that involved hammers and broomsticks. But I digress.)

Mike was always the handy one. He built end tables and lamps and other wooden items that are still in use today -- and that didn't look like they were built by a "kid." I wouldn't have admitted then how much I admired his skill.

Today, I admire him for his incredible parenting skills. He has raised my niece and nephew on his own and done a damn fine job, too. They're both smart and well-adjusted kids and somehow tolerate their aunt and her silliness. Their visit last year was the highlight of the summer -- strike that -- it was the highlight of the year.

Big Red Nose

Allergies suck.

Apparently, the entire country is experiencing record high pollen counts. I guess I'm selfish because I don't really care about the rest of the country. I just care about my raw nose.

For me the worst part is that I never even had allergies until I was in my late 20s. Now I never know what might trigger them. Dust? Definitely. Animals? Some. A dog with any amount of Lab in its blood will set me off like nothing else. Even my own dog (who is certainly Lab free) will sometimes cause me to break out on my arms.

I never really thought pollen was my problem. And around these parts, it might not be pollen. With the high winds, it might just be dirt and dust blowing around. All I know -- and I don't need a doctor or some other expert to tell me this -- is allergies suck.

Big time.

Big Movie Night

Over the weekend, the S.O. and I watched two movies out on DVD right now. We don't go to the theater very much any more, mostly because I'm a curmudgeon who doesn't like crowds or talking during movies or crying babies or sticky floors. And I like to make my own popcorn and watch movies in my jammies.

We'd heard a lot of good things about both the movies we watched (on DVD because we're not that high-tech yet) . They weren't super hyped up, which can be the downfall of a movie. But they got good press and even received some awards. And they both definitely lived up to my high expectations of them.

The first one was "The Blind Side." Sandra Bullock won an Oscar for her role -- in case you missed that with all the news of her cheating husband -- and she, along with the rest of the cast really do turn in great performances.

It's heartwarming without being cloying, and kind of restores my faith in humans. And don't worry if you're not a huge football fan. Football plays second fiddle to the real story here.

The second movie we watched was "Fantastic Mr. Fox." I loved this movie for its unabashed playfulness.

Where "The Blind Side" was uplifting for it's rags-to-riches story and help-your-fellow-man message, "Fantastic Mr. Fox" is funny, laugh-out-loud, release-your-inner-child pure fun. George Clooney voices Mr. Fox, bringing all his old Hollywood type of charm to the character. Meryl Streep voices his wife, and Bill Murray, Owen Wilson, Michael Gambon (Dumbledore!), Willem Dafoe and other lend their talent.

Based on the book by Roald Dahl, "Fantastic Mr. Fox" is fantastic, with talking wild animals (should I be bothered that all the mammals can talk, but the fowls are food?) who get themselves into crazy situations that are only partly due to their being wild animals.

These two movies, while wildly different, made a great double feature. Add in some homemade popcorn and the dog curled up on my lap and you really shouldn't wonder why I prefer my movie nights at home.

Big Brother

No, not the giant talking face from "1984," but my actual big brother -- the oldest of the three. We keep in touch through (extremely) sporadic phone calls, but mostly through Facebook. We exchange comments and chat sometimes. I often think Facebook is evil, but in this case it's been great.

Jim and me and our dog, Herkimer.

We're separated in age by nearly seven years, so we didn't always do kid things together, but I can remember him taking me to see "The Rescuers" at the movie theater. And he was the epitome of what a big brother should be to a baby sister. He was protective. He looked out for me. And while he sometimes teased me (and still does!), it was always good-natured teasing and he was never ever mean to me.

With him living in Michigan and me in Colorado, we don't see each other often enough, but I know he's always there for me. He's the first person I wanted to talk to after Mom died.

He's been feeling a bit under the weather lately, so I've been thinking about him a lot and hoping my happy thoughts reach him and make him feel a tiny bit -- or a whole helluva lot -- better.

Big Video Saturday

One of my new favorite things is "The Rotten Tomatoes Show" on Current TV. The hosts, along with viewers like you and me, critique new movies and present some how-to videos of their own. Like this one.



Because it features a clip from the movie "Big," I think it fulfills my daily Big quota. It's also quite funny, and Brett Erlich is a cutie pie.

My Big Snow Day

We had big plans this week to ski Wednesday and Thursday. Alas, the universe had other plans. Thanks to a spring snowstorm Wednesday morning, the roads were a bit treacherous, so we decided to head out a little later than originally planned. Then, thanks to a truck driver who reportedly was just not paying attention to traffic, the interstate was backed up. It took us an hour to go just a couple miles. Finally, we got around the accident and hit the open road and got to Frisco by about 3:45 p.m. -- just in time to check in to the bed and breakfast.

We stayed at the Galena Street Mountain Inn, and I highly recommend it. It's quiet and comfortable, and the owners are great hosts. They set out wine and cheese in the evening and cook a delicious breakfast in the morning -- homemade granola, fresh fruit, eggs to order, as well as fresh-brewed coffee -- and it cost less than staying at one of the chain motels near the interstate. It also cost half the price of staying in Copper Mountain and was way nicer.

After our wonderful breakfast Thursday morning, we headed out to Copper Mountain (just a few minutes down the road) for our day of skiing. It was a perfect day for it. The temperature reached the low 40s. The sky was so blue it was almost purple. The snow was fresh and fluffy. And the crowds were nonexistent.I skied blue runs the whole day while the S.O. took on one black. I don't know what was different about the day but it was the best day of skiing I think I've ever had. I felt strong and confident and had a ton of fun. We'd like to get one more day in before the end of the season, but I can't imagine it'll beat yesterday.

Big Picture Show

What I watched: "Penelope"

Every once in a while I am left to my own devices with the television. When that happens, I usually watch something I know the S.O. would scoff at or just wouldn't care about. Sometimes, it's a foreign film, sometimes a golden oldie.

This week, it was "Penelope," a film from 2006 that must have had zero publicity (because I'd never heard of it) and that I really enjoyed. It stars Christina Ricci and James McAvoy and it's a sweet little twist on "Beauty and the Beast."

Peter Dinklage is also in it as a rabid reporter, looking for a big scoop. And if you haven't seen Dinklage in "The Station Agent," stop reading right now and go to Blockbuster or Netflix and add it to the top of your queue immediately. I'll wait.

(Files nails, whistles ... ) Oh! You're back. Hi.

Is "Penelope" a romantic comedy? Maybe. I'd call it a fairy tale that appealed to even my cynical nature. It's romantic and sweet and cute. And you can probably guess the end before it comes, but none of that stopped me from smiling. And none of that stopped me from loving the characters I was supposed to love and hating the characters I was supposed to hate.

If you're going to spend 90 minutes watching something that's supposed to be romantic, that's supposed to make you laugh, that's supposed to make you root for the leading lady and man, you may as well spend it watching Christina Ricci and James McAvoy in "Penelope."

Big Obsession Confession

I have a confession to make. I have a bit of an obsession with coffee cups -- travel mugs, cups with pictures, cups with funny sayings, cups from far away places. My latest find is this one.

I found it at World Market (If I'm completely honest, I have a bit of an obsession with that store, too). And it's a really cute cup. It looks like a take-away cup from a coffee shop, complete with the little sleeve to keep you from burning your hands and the white lid. But the cup is ceramic, and the lid and sleeve are silicone.

The S.O. has told me I need to get rid of some of the coffee cups. But I can't get rid of the one with Inky on it or the one from London with Paddington Bear on it or any of the travel mugs because I have to be able to take my coffee with me or the set of red ones that match the plates and bowls.

OK, maybe I have a problem. But I promise you won't see me on "Hoarders" or "Hoarding: Buried Alive" or even "Clean House" any time soon -- well, ever. I promise.

Although ... I did see a really cute coffee cup yesterday ...

Big Step

I finally took a big first step and applied for a personal trainer certification course. Soon, I will not only be your go-to girl for rants, ramblings and stories about my dog, I will also be your go-to girl for fitness know-how.

I promise not to question your choice of menu items or hound you about working out ... unless you ask me to, of course.

This is something I've been thinking about doing for a while. I've just been -- as I always am -- a terrible procrastinator. I'm told most people finish in three or four months but also that I have up to two whole years to complete the program. I really want to be finished by the end of the summer.

Wish me luck.

Big Oops - or not

This is my horoscope today:

Capricorn - You are provoked to express your passionate perspective every chance you get as the Moon joins ruthless Pluto in your 1st House of Personality today. You could go out of your way to make sure that someone knows exactly where you stand on a controversial social issue. But a volcano derives its strength from the intense heat that it holds beneath the surface. Likewise, you have a chance to increase your power by choosing what to say on your own terms. Carefully controlling your message gives you the career endurance that you desire.

I read this after shooting an e-mail off to the guy who coordinates my freelance work with the paper. A week or so ago, I told him I needed to have all the information for my stories by the Friday before my deadline (which still cuts it close). He passed that along to the powers that be and they agreed. This morning, I get an e-mail saying here's the info for this week's story. So, I forward it to him, saying, "What part of Friday deadline do they not understand?"

Maybe I should have read my horoscope first -- or maybe not. I've been looking for a reason to stop doing these stories. Maybe this is it. I complain about the assignments. I complain about the people who won't call me back or completely blow me off. I complain about the last minute BS. Maybe it's time to step away. It's a lot of stupid stress for not a lot of money.

I don't really think I can burn bridges with this guy or even with the paper. I was kind of a bitch when I left and I still got freelance assignments. Maybe rather than a big oops, this is a big wait and see.

Big Picture

Happy Easter!

I took this photo -- and crafted the eggs in the basket -- back when I still wrote for a local parenting magazine. Ripley was mostly interested in the hard-boiled eggs in the basket. The other eggs were wooden.

Easter isn't really a big deal around here. We're not really religious and we don't have kids. And we're not pagan enough to celebrate the coming of spring. But it seemed like a good excuse to post this picture of Ripley -- like I need an excuse to post a picture of my dog.

Yeah, it's probably a little pathetic. Don't judge.

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.

Looking for the Ghost of Christmas Present

I'm having a hard time finding the holiday spirit this year. And it's not for lack of trying. I'm learning to play a Christmas song. I've been listening to Christmas music. I've donated to my favorite charities. I've wrapped gifts and drank egg nog.

I listened to Tim Curry read "A Christmas Carol." And really, if hearing/reading/watching "A Christmas Carol" doesn't put you in the holiday spirit, what will? (He realizes the error of his ways! He connects with his nephew! He gives Bob Cratchit a raise! He saves Tiny Tim! "God bless us, everyone!")

I've sent out some cards -- along with "gifts" to nieces and nephews. Maybe it's not seeing them open presents, even though they're all teenagers now and probably are too cool to get excited about Christmas. Maybe it's the lack of family gatherings.

Anybody have any ideas of how to find my Christmas Mojo this year?

In which I once again talk about the weather

Dear Colorado,

If I wanted to live somewhere with sub-zero temperatures and snow-packed roads, I would have stayed in Illinois. Yes, you have those lovely mountains, but what am I supposed to do with them if I (1) can't get to them because you've made the roads treacherous with your snow and ice and such and (2) can't stand to be outside for more than a few seconds at a time?

I know tomorrow is supposed to be a balmy 27 degrees, but at the moment the thermometer is sitting quite firmly just below zero. That's quite enough of this silliness, Colorado. It's time to get serious and raise that temp up to the 30s or 40s. The mountains will still have their snow, and I'll be able to drive to it and enjoy it -- without freezing my butt off.

Thank you and have a nice (I mean it!) day,
Pam

Ha. Ha. You can stop now

When I moved to Colorado nearly 10 years ago (!) I was told how temperate the weather is here, how cool the summers and how mild the winters. "Oh, yes, it snows," they told me, "but it melts off the very next day." Something like 300-plus days of sunshine, they told me. It's mostly warm and dry, they told me.

They forgot to add, "Unless, of course, it isn't." They forgot to mention that the weather will do whatever the hell it wants, whenever it wants, just like every other part of the nation. And it will do it on the days you really need to get stuff done. Yeah, they forgot to tell me that part.

Granted, I wouldn't want to still be living in Central Illinois, where you can go a full month without seeing the sun. But promises were made, people. I expected sunshine. Where's my effing sunshine?

Just get on with it, would you

Come on, weather. Snow or don't snow. This half-hearted stuff is just not cutting it.

I see snow in the air but I think it's just blowing around. And does it really need to be this cold? 18 degrees? Really?

The worst part is I have to go out in it in about 10 minutes. Yuck.

Puppy went home

Ripley was never really sure what to make of the stubby-legged Corgi puppy. In the end, she tolerated him. And after he left, she seemed worried that we had gotten rid of another pet. There's just no reasoning with her.

"I'm going to pretend to not care, but when you're gone, I'll miss you!"
_

Final day

Today is the last day of NaBloPoMo, and I made it. Granted, I posted plenty of photos and random crap. But then, isn't that why you visit my blog?

Don't worry, today will be no exception.

It's also the last day of our adventures in puppy sitting, and I've reached a couple of conclusions. I am not cut out for puppies or babies. I'm too old and impatient. What do you mean you have to go outside at 2 a.m.? What do you mean you can't hold it as long as my 9-year-old dog? Ack! You had an accident! What is wrong with you? (Yes, I have unreasonable expectations. I also expect my own dog to be able to understand why she shouldn't bark at people outside on the street and to speak English.)

Just imagine how I'd be with a human baby. Don't you have a job yet? When do you start school so I can go back to blogging and chatting online?

Now, this isn't to make my dear friend feel bad, because I volunteered freely and with no pressure. I know it would have been easier if I hadn't felt so crappy off and on all weekend. Because despite the pooping and peeing -- and one pretty big (smelly) accident -- I have to admit. He's awfully damn cute.

And, puppy-sitting has not put me off the idea of getting a kitten. Go figure.

Christmas is coming

And I have just two ideas for gifts for the S.O. One is totally practical but fairly pricey. The other is more reasonably priced but not all that practical (although I think it's something he wants). He is nearly impossible to buy for and very rarely gives me good ideas. Strike that. He often gives me good ideas, but one of two things usually happens when he gives me good ideas: (1) The item is so far out of my price range as to be impossible to buy or (2) he buys the item himself two days after giving me the idea. (Do all guys do that?)

If he reads this -- which I doubt he will -- maybe he'll give me some good ideas for Christmas gifts for him. If any of you have any brilliant ideas, let me know.

The title of this post refers to the following poem/nursery rhyme. Mom used to sing it to me as Christmas grew near.

Christmas is coming
The goose is getting fat
Please put a penny in the old man's hat
If you haven't got a penny,
Then a ha'penny will do
If you haven't got a ha'penny,
Then God bless you

Look! Pie!

For the past few minutes, I was working on a post about how I didn't feel good and WebMD can turn me into a hypochondriac with every condition from the flu to lyme disease. But that post felt whiny and boring. But I have just a few days left of NaBloPoMo and I'm not about to fail now. So look at my beautiful Frozen Pumpkin Mousse Pie and enjoy the recipe below.

Ingredients

Crust

• 30 small gingersnap cookies (about 7 1/2 ounces)
• 2 tablespoons raisins
• 1 tablespoon canola oil

Filling

• 1 cup canned pumpkin puree
• 1/3 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
• 2 pints (4 cups) frozen low-fat vanilla yogurt, softened (see Tip)

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Coat a 9-inch deep-dish pie pan with cooking spray.
2. To prepare crust: Combine gingersnaps and raisins in a food processor and pulse until finely chopped. Add oil and pulse until blended. Press evenly into the bottom and up the sides of the prepared pan.
3. Bake the crust until set, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
4. To prepare filling: Combine pumpkin, sugar, cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg in a large bowl and mix well. Add ice cream and stir until blended. Spoon the mixture into the cooled pie crust. Freeze until firm, at least 2 hours. Let the pie soften slightly in the refrigerator for 20 to 30 minutes before serving.

• Tip: To soften ice cream quickly, microwave on Medium-Low for 30 to 60 seconds.

Two things

1. Thanksgiving dinner was wonderful. I highly recommend all three of the recipes I tried from EatingWell.com.

2. While Ripley still has no social graces and doesn't really appreciate the wee one visiting, both dogs enjoy our back yard. See? Pictures!

She might not notice if I stay way back here.

Oops! She noticed.

Please be my friend.

Happy Thanksgiving

After yesterday's miserable failure at trying to cook chestnuts, I took a giant chance and bought a new batch from a different store. This morning, I roasted them (cut an X on the flat side of each nut, spread them on a baking sheet and bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes). I'm guessing I got bad nuts the last time because these came out beautifully. Really, this picture doesn't do them justice.

Chestnuts are odd. They taste a bit like bacon, so they should taste good in the Brussels Sprouts. My pumpkin mousse pie also looks lovely. If nothing else, our table will look great. And even if the food ends up tasting less beautiful than it looks, I will still have plenty to be thankful for today.

Things like:
my friends (furry and otherwise)
my family
the S.O. (who counts as both -- friend and family, but not furry)
cheesy SciFi shows
silly video games
laughter
my health
the S.O.'s job
and a beautiful sunny day in which to enjoy the little things in life.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Chestnuts roasting on an open FAIL!

I guess I thought I was Martha Stewart, imagining that I could cook my own chestnuts for my Thanksgiving dinner. Silly girl. I followed directions (from a recipe Web site) for roasting them in the oven -- to no avail. I followed the S.O.'s experience with steaming chestnuts -- nope. They are hard little rocks. Not something that will evoke thoughts of home.

So, despite my best efforts to have everything I need for tomorrow's dinner, I have to run back out to the store.

What's on the menu

I'm trying to include some healthier side dishes in our Thanksgiving dinner this year. In addition to turkey and stuffing -- which the S.O. makes and are delicious -- I am making:

• Brussels Sprouts with Chestnuts & Sage
• Smashed Spiced Sweet Potatoes
• Frozen Pumpkin Mousse Pie

(All from EatingWell.com) I'll let you know how they turn out. But they sure sound yummy. No Tofurkey in this house!

Activities on the menu are playing with the S.O.'s new Playstation 3, board games, several episodes of Farscape and playing with Ripley and my dear friend's puppy.

It promises to be a fun day.

Vanity, thy name is Pammeey

For some reason, I got it in my head that I need to whiten my teeth. Honestly, I think it's television and the movies. Have you seen how blindingly white actors' teeth are these days? Whatever the reason, I picked up some teeth whitening strips. (Don't judge me.) Because I'm all about trying to save a buck or two, I bought the Target brand equivalent of the Listerine Whitening Quick Dissolving Strips. I doubt there's much difference and I'm not planning to find out.

I have to wonder if vanity is worth it. The strips are quite sticky, and you aren't careful (and yes, I speak from experience) you will end up with your jaw stuck shut for several minutes while the strips dissolve. And the dissolving process is kind of gross. You'll look a bit like a mad dog for a few minutes.

But once they've dissolved, your mouth will feel minty, then it will feel normal. I'm only on my first day of trying the strips so I can speak to their actual effectiveness. But they're kind of weird.

And it's all for the sake of vanity.

Ripley gets new food

I suppose it's an age thing, but Ripley has recently developed bad doggy gas. Sometimes, she'll run up the stairs and toot. It's kind of cute, because she'll stop and look around, as if to say, "What the heck was that." Not so cute is when she's curled up in my lap (as she is while I type this) and passes gas. At those times, she tries to play it off like nothing happened.

So, in the interest of her well-being and not having to smell dog farts, the S.O. and I took a trip to the pet store to look for a different food. She's been eating Iam's as long as I've had her, but lately it obviously isn't agreeing with her. The new food is a lamb and rice formula that contains no corn or soy. Apparently those two ingredients can mess with doggy digestion. We have to slowly introduce the new food, mixing it with the old, so it'll be at least a week before we know if the new food makes any difference. Let's hope it does.

While at the pet store, I replaced Ripley's old tag with a stylish new one. I usually try to go with more tough stuff, but this was so cute -- and the S.O. picked it out.
I know I've been posting about the dog a lot, but I don't have kids. This is all I have, people.

Ripley helps with laundry

Maybe that should be "helps" with laundry -- and maybe I should also say this isn't voluntary. But it's pretty darn cute.

Resisting temptation

With an early deadline for my test drive next week, I decided to work on it over the weekend. That way next week will be open to just relax and fix the big meal.

I thought it would be easier to get out of the house. So I headed to Barnes & Noble, where there is free WiFi and (of course) Starbucks. The holidays are coming, and Starbucks has its signature holiday lattes on offer -- sticky sweet coffee drinks with a ton of whipped cream on top, like gingerbread latte, peppermint mocha and caramel brulee latte. They all sound and look delicious -- and full of really unnecessary calories. So I resisted and got tea. yum.

No. I love tea. But gingerbread latte? Come on!

UPDATE: I have to add that Starbucks is packed and noisy and not doing much for motivating me to work on this test drive. Also, is it so unusual to see someone typing on a laptop that you have to stare at me?

It Takes a Village

The neighbor's gate malfunctioned yesterday, and her dog was wandering the street in front of my house. Knowing the dog's name, I went out and called to her. When I started toward her, she decided Chase is the funnest game in the whole world and ran from me -- right into the street, with cars coming from both directions. Thankfully, they saw her and stopped. I finally caught her and walked her to the neighbor's house. She wasn't home, so I brought the dog back to my house.

I put her in the back yard, then opened the back door and let her come inside. Ripley and she have met -- the neighbor's daughter has watched Ripley when we go out of town -- but dogs have short memories. So much sniffing and circling ensued. Finally, the neighbor dog decided things were cool and went into the classic Let's-Play stance. Let me pause here to mention the neighbor's dog is a full-grown Black Lab. Ripley, lacking social graces and being endowed with little dog syndrome, mistook Let's-Play for Let's-Fight and got all barky and snappy. It is her house after all.

Back outside went the neighbor's dog, none to happy about it. I spent the next few hours looking out the back window to make sure she didn't pull a Houdini on me and looking out the front window to see if the neighbor had come home. I left messages on her answering machine and a note in the door but I worried she'd see the open gate and panic.

About 4 p.m. the neighbor's next-door neighbor got home, so I talked to her about taking the dog. The S.O. was gone and I had to leave shortly. I just didn't feel comfortable leaving the dog in the back yard alone. This neighbor had watched the dog before so she took her to her house. Later in the evening, I got a phone call from the dog owner:

I understand you found my wayward dog. Thank you for finding her and keeping her. Like I told K, it takes a village. We're working on that gate.

I know I have a prejudice against Labs. They're sweet, beautiful dogs but they also have to be the goofiest creatures on God's green earth. I think it really does take a village with a dog like that.

My dog -- a rat terrier, you know -- is anti-social when it comes to other dogs. She's content to hang out in the sun and soak up the attention of one or two people. Huh. Maybe dogs and their owners really do come to resemble one another.