Serendipity

By the way, the CD I ditched in favor of the radio has this song on the first track. Every now and then a song will just quite literally speak to your experience and heart. This one did that immediately.

And, it follows through a bit on my theory that women songwriters are just not as whiny as male songwriters..even when they are being whiny.

Over the sea and far away
She's waiting like an Iceberg
Waiting to change,
But she's cold inside
She wants to be like the water

All the muscles tighten in her face
Buries her soul in one embrace
They're one and the same
Just like water

Then the fire fades away
But most of everyday
Is full of tired excuses
But it's too hard to say
I wish it were simple
But we give up easily
You're close enough to see that
You're the other side of the world to me

On comes the panic light
Holding on with fingers and feelings alike
But the time has come
To move along

Then the fire fades away
But most of everyday
Is full of tired excuses
But it's too hard to say
I wish it were simple
But we give up easily
You're close enough to see that
You're the other side of the world

Can you help me?
Can you let me go?
And can you still love me
When you can't see me anymore

Then the fire fades away
Most of everyday
Is full of tired excuses
But it's too hard to say
I wish it were simple
But we give up easily
You're close enough to see that
You're the other side of the world
The other side of the world
You're.... the other side of the world
To me.
-KT Turnstall

Look an un-dead Monkey!

This sums up how I feel today:

"Now bring me that monkey. I want to shoot something." -Captain Jack Sparrow

i'm not going to sarasota today, I'm not going anywhere. Literally or figuratively.

Sad Songs Say So Much

I had an observation in the car the other day. While listening to Daniel Powter's "Bad Day", I remarked how the sappiest, most whingy songs written are written by men. That may not be true historically (I haven't thought further back than 1990 on this topic) but in modern music, you've got women writing 'empowering' music. Say what you will about the sale of a sexual image but the lyrics of something like Christina Aguilera's "Fighter" or go back to Alanis' "You Oughta Know" - the big hits from women tend to be very strong.

Why is it, then, women have such a reputation for being weak and clingy, and men strong and non-communicative? The music written by men betrays they actually might have feelings. I think it might still be a secret but now I've blown the cover on it. :-/

Booty Booty Booty Rockin Everywhere

If I wanted a distraction this week I sure got it.

I went out to Satellite Beach/Indiatlantic with a friend and three kids/tweens. We stayed overnight at a hotel out there and if I thought my life was confusing...add three kids and that confusion becomes exponential. That Bubba Sparxxx song (subject title) was pretty much on the car overandoverandover again so it's now burned into MY memory. Slightly different than the ethereal vibe of the Eurythmics I blogged about before.

This was the kind of distraction I probably needed, more being a 'parent' than being a child. We started out at Pop Century for lunch and then drove to the coast. We went to Bunky's (again..) for lunch and the kids really liked it because there were tons of live interesting tropical fish around. Then we went to beach and pool. I made a small decision, based on the song that I heard on the causeway, to NOT bring my cell phone with me and just forget about the whole situation I've been mired in the past few weeks. With that out of the way, I felt very free to enjoy myself.
We played hard in the pool (and my body paid for it over the night..) and then, in our bathing suits went to McD's around 10pm to get ice cream. That was actually a lot of fun and we joked/flirted with the guy in the drive through and I got a free Pirates of the Caribbean Happy Meal journal out of it.

That night, I had the two older ones (9 and 10) in my room which I knew was going to make it impossible to relax. B was thrilled she got to sleep somewhere other than w/ K. I said, "You went out of the pot and into the fire. I'm the Kraken." She laughed and thought I was kidding ;-)

I had to flip the light on at 11 at night and break out a can of whoop-ass from the girls goofing around. Of course, they stopped and then of course continued to horse around and then of course someone started crying. Then I really lost my shit and put them to bed with an incredible threat.

The next day was a lot more calm (except for the part where they nearly broke a lamp and spilled a cup of coffee all over the floor) but the weather was not so calm. The rain came and went so we ended up going to the movies to see Monster House which was surprisingly good. I was prepared to sit there bored off my can but it was very entertaining and a lot of adult humor.

Now I need to sort out the rest of the weekend. Today I will probably just work on getting organized at home and then get up early-ish tomorrow morning and head for Sarasota to go to the Ringling Museum. I'm determined to do things this "vacation" and not just lie around in fatalistic repose. I think it's working out.

For Whatever You Believe In...

I know I've blogged about this before - but there's an enormous historical and emotional significance to the Eurythmics song "Here Comes The Rain Again" and the Pineda Causeway in Satellite Beach.

I was driving here today (where I'm at right now) with two 10 going on 18 year old girls screaming and carrying on in the car. They were fighting over what to listen to on the iPod, so I turned the iPod off and switched it to what used to be the old BJ105. If I didn't hear it I wouldn't believe it but just as we approached A1A from the Pineda, that song came on.

Today was an emotional day for me, I made a lot of choices and decisions that I've been putting off for a long time. It's a time I wish, frankly, I had my mom to help me through this. And for whatever you believe or think, I can' t help but feel that in some way my mom reached out to me. I don't think arbitrary coincidences like that happen. That, I don't believe in.

The Silence of Our Friends

Martin Luther King Jr was quoted as saying, "We will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."

With just as much wisdom, Mark Twain said, "It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt."

Then I read this,
"The most basic and powerful way to connect to another person is to listen. Just listen. Perhaps the most important thing we ever give each other is our attention…. A loving silence often has far more power to heal and to connect than the most well-intentioned words."

Which one do I follow faith in? Well the context of MLK's is out of boundaries for me - he's referring to what we do as global citizens when our silence and refusal to act is as much a betrayal as acting against. Whether in his day to end segregation and ensure civil rights for all, or in my day to turn a blind eye to the genocide occuring in Africa. Actually, it's a poetic way of saying "If you're not with us then you're against us."

The Mark Twain quote is again out of the context I'm looking for but can be extrapolated to be a guide for how much we should say when we are uncertain of what we are speaking. Speaking on assumption and all the rest of it.

The final quote is probably the most relevant to what I'm looking for. I'm not a person who does well in silent vacuums. I'm a natural communicator and it's how I relate to the world around me and the people in it. It's how I thrive, how I grow and often, how I heal. Which is why this blog is out here in the first place. It's my way of allowing someone to listen and it's remarkably healing.

I'm learning how to live with silence of friends, loved ones and even co-workers. I have learned that my own silence is also powerful, for myself and for the ones I don't want to hurt by an indulgent outburst.

But what is silence between two friends, two sisters, two lovers, two spouses, a father and a daughter? It's contextual and changes its meaning as lives move and change. It's all those quotes, isn't it? Silence can be crueler than a betrayal. Silence can prevent foolish and hurtful words. Silence can heal.

I can learn from all those, from my own silence to allowing others to be silent.

Happy Anniversary!!

Happy Annivesary, Farawaysoclose! Here on the one year anniversary of my journal, I have made a lot of observations and decisions about the way I've handled it. If I go back to my first entry, this blog was NEVER intended to be a dumpsite of emotions and pathos that I've turned it into the past six months.

A blog will always be a natural reflection of its author and I sure have had some pathos lately so the change in focus can only be expected. But as I consider what I've put out there for public consumption, I'm not happy with it.

So, I am going to be doing a clean up of it over the next few days. In certain cases, I'm going to transfer it over to another blog that I have which is private and where a lot of these entries SHOULD lie. By Saturday or Sunday, I'd expect a lot of entries to have been either eliminated entirely or edited heavily.

That's not to say there won't be a personal edge or reflection to this blog - there absolutely will be! But to be specific and candid about details..I don't think so. A big part of the reason is - you have to be either IN or OUT. You can't tell the world only 30% of a story and leave out the bits that are deeply private or confidential and then expect everyone to get the point. The truth of a story is usually in its shadows and you leave that out, you've changed the point and purpose entirely. And everyone thinks you're a daft bint so what have you achieved, really? That's actually not a half bad way to live your life, come to think of it never mind managing your blog.

My other reason for returning to the original intent of this blog is, I know I can do better than I've done. I went back and re-read the Epic and I know I can do better as a writer, as a thinking person and really, as just another person placing data on the "series of tubes" that's the internet (more on that in a future blog entry, I'm sure!). This was always supposed to be a daily outlet of the same type of things I'd blether about at a pub, not in pyschotherapy. So, that's the plan.

i sure wish I new some goode gramar tho.

In other news - I'm officially on vacation!! I was able to get a few days approved now that our go-live date has pushed. The new go-live date is November 1st, so the pace will relax substantially. That doesn't mean there won't be some big days coming up but we cannot continue to break our necks and backs and thankfully, the pace of which we've been working has been worked into the new project plan. Now I need to figure out an actual real week off get completely out of town holiday.

Unfortunately, I don't have many plans to do too much. I didn't have time to plan, I just took the days off as a desperate grab to a slippery rope. I'm going to the beach today with some friends and that will be a very very nice getaway. Just not being at work will be all the rest I need, truth be told.

Does it even help anything?

This is blog is the forth or fifth I've ever had. All have had different point's and purposes but this one I've stuck with the most consistently over time. In 2 days it will be 1 year old.

I was thinking to myself today - does journaling/blogging actually help anything? I'm not convinced it does. Though many people find it therapeutic, occasionally I find it to be a crutch for which to dwell and navel gaze rather than just get on with it.

The pressure to sit down and write something often will lead me down a path I don't even want to go down, but, yet I do for the sake of writing.

I am going to spend some time this evening, rather than blogging something new, but plan to break out an old prolific piece of fiction my friend Aingie and I wrote. I've refered to it a few times, it's calle The Epic and while 75% of it is absolute crap, there are moments of shining genius if I do say so myself. But more to the point, whether you say the writing was flawed, naive or just plain shite, it was the product of actively engaged minds. Inspired minds. Everything I did, read, saw, touched or experienced became potential Epic material. Just knowing I had to churn out 20-50 pages of fiction a week meant everything I did had to be scrutinized for its potential as a muse or inspiration.

That, my friends, is the type of writing that relieves me of my woes and redirects my emotions. There's a good reason why some of the best things ever written in the world were written at the height of an artist's most difficult life moments.

So, a storm is coming up here. I need to rinse the pool water off of me, settle down with a CD of Epic and get down to reading while letting a movie play on the TV.

lunch and learn

After 2 years of an off-and-on crush, I finally went out with S. It was so odd - at our uat he was all over me, but at our uat I just wasn't up for it. I think it's too late now.

Despite the fact that our trip will be the absolute best business (if you can even call it that) trip I've ever been on (judging by how much my face hurt), some things are better left where they are. While I miss the bond the we had, that did not translate into my life away from work. Not to say it never will but now is not the right time.

Oh well. We'll always have Houston...

Avast ye scabbers dogs

Here's a photo of the new Darth Vader, Captain Barbossa, as added to the Disney ride:



But here is my (il)logical question.. I've been on this ride three times and never really noticed fully that it WAS Barbossa/Geoffrey Rush. I wonder if this photo is actually from Disneyland and not World but I guess I have to go back again to see for certain.

But lemme say this - if that IS Barbossa and they went through all this buggery trouble to add in three expensive animatronics of Captain Jack Sparrow and one of Captain Barbossa, change the audio track to ask the Mayor where Jack Sparrow is and all the other minor alterations...why did they not change the ship that Barbossa's on to be painted black and have black sails? I can see not painting the ship black - it'd be hard to see I reckon. But surely Black Sails could have been accomodated? It looks more like a ship of His Majesty's Navy or of the East India Trading Company than The Black Pearl is every bit as much a character in this trilogy as any of the human characters. Perhaps there were black sails and I was just so enamoured by the Capt Jack Sparrow animatronic around the corner from it that I failed to notice...But I doubt it.

There are musings on Blogcritics that POTC: DMC might keelhaul Titanic on box office receipts. I don't reckon that's possible with this one, but the third one might well do. They left a bigger cliff hanger on this one than the end of Empire Strikes Back. Though ESB was an amazing movie in its own right.

Completely off topic, I also wish to record for posterity that my friend Shan did in fact state that a picture of Mark Grace would scare babies. This means I win the great Paper Argument of 1991 at the Chicago Hilton & Towers. Thank you for your attention to this matter.

The Death of Chicago Death Food

I'm prolific today, I know.

This article on new restrictive Chicago ordinances was out on my Yahoo news source today.

Aside from the fact it quotes Mayor Daley as "angry" - what an odd characterization! Surely they must be engaging in hyperbole! It brings up some very unusual city ordinance under review or in place.

Though the article aptly points out that Chicago is increasingly a city of Starbucks rather than Steel Mills, I wonder if that observation has been made by anyone who has actually left Chicago and done a comparison to other metropolitan areas. While yes Chicago has been LA'ed and NYC'ed to death in recent years, one only needs to bum around Midway Airport or the extended suburbs to see ye olde Chicago is alive and artery clogged.

When you fly into Midway airport - Chicago's southside airport - there's an advertisement for a restaurant that you can see from the air. It simply says, in bold red letters:

BEEF

That is all it says. And this sign is not uncommon. It can be found in the posher North suburbs and though I avoid it at all costs, supect it's on the west side as well. Sure you'll see a variation. It might say "POLISH" or "RED HOTS" but it's none the less some form of meat. The disturbing thing about that article is that these Beef/Polish/Hot Dog joints are the last place you can go before getting an angioplasty. I personally love it. There is no such thing in Orlando for the most part, some place so sinfully greasy that it's possible the deep fried Pizza Puff you're eating was cooked in the very same grease that fried up your Grandfather's pork patty when he was your age!

Every restaurant has neutered and altered their cooking ingredients so that food is certainly better for you but doesn't taste any where near as gratifying. By outlawing or regulating this, it will put to death the true irreverance and spirit of the Chicago fast food joint. And frankly, compared even to the substantially less cosmo Orlando, Chicago is not at any real risk - when one considers its four corners - of becoming a sea of green tea frappucino posers that would require any sense of urgency to legislate cooking oil.

Then again, it is VERY Chicago to even think you can and should legislate such a thing.

On a minor note, the outlawing of Foie Gras for its inhumane production is rather hypocritical given Chicago is America's slaughterhouse and a major statistical contributor to the national murder rate.

I agree with the tape that runs out of Daley's mouth at every press conference: "Get a life."

I like that it refers to Alderman Natarus also. What a crumudgeon. I remember when he left a message on Matt's answering machine. He drolled, "This is Burton Natarus... The alderman..."

OK, I'm going to go watch a movie and/or go to bed now. I think I've met my goal to do something other than navel gaze.

9:26PM Addendum: Just got my monthly HeartCenterOnline newsletter. Bahahah!

And From Maharishi Mark Grace

On Cubs teammate Shawon Dunston:
"I owe him a lot. Nobody would know how good I was at digging balls out of the dirt if it wasn't for him and all those bad throws."

Bah-ha! I love Shawon jokes. Nothing takes me back to the late 80's/early 90's like a good Shawon Dunston joke.

My apologies for the sudden flurry of baseball memoirs. I just get on a roll.

Sugar Britches

Found this on the 'net - Bob's opinion (apparently he's a sports journo now) on why Andre Dawson deserves to be in the Baseball Hall Of Fame. I've placed in bold the bit that made me a little verklempt and realize that whether you were a fan, friend or a teammate, everyone felt the same way about Andre.

Sugar Britches, Left Field Salaams you. Right Field Salaams you. And Centerfield Salaams you.

ANDRE DAWSON – YES: My emotional pick, but also a worthy entrant on his merits alone. “The Hawk” was a feared force in the middle of major league lineups for 21 seasons, the first 11 of those in Montreal where his talents were overlooked and his knees were ravaged by Olympic Stadium’s Astroturf playing surface. He was THE complete player of his era. He could hit (5 times over .300, 4 Silver Slugger Awards), hit for power (438 HR’s 42nd all-time), run (314 career SB’s), field (8 gold gloves), and throw from right field with a cannon arm (157 career assists). He also had 4 seasons of 100+ RBI’s, ranks 24th all-time in RBI’s and total bases, ranks 21st all-time in extra base hits, and made 8 All-Star appearances.

While all of these numbers are impressive enough, it was his MVP award in 1987 during his first season with the Cubs that allowed the rest of the baseball world to understand just how great a player he was, and what a tough man he was even by baseball standards. After his last season with the Expos in 1986 Dawson was unbelievably unable to find a job playing Major league baseball despite batting .278, hitting 20 HR’s, and driving in 78 RBI’s. It was the “Collusion” year where the MLB owners collectively agreed not to sign players to force down their market value. Dawson eventually agreed to play for Cubs, but under a blank contract which the Cubs would fill in the salary for at whatever amount they wanted! Dawson went on to have the year of his career batting .287, belting 49HR’s and driving in 137 RBI’s becoming the first player ever to win an MVP while on a last place team. The Cubs “rewarded” him for his heroic effort by filling in the blank on his contract for $500,000 which was millions less than his actual market value. By signing that blank contract he exposed and destroyed the owners attempt at collusion, and became the poster child for the Players Association as they went on to win their grievance against the owners in court and were awarded $280 million in damages. His courage, inner confidence, and ability to perform at the highest level under the most difficult circumstances were all showcased during this season, and revered by his fellow players. These were characteristics he demonstrated throughout his career.

On a personal note, he was the toughest and most determined competitor I ever had the honor to play with and one of the classiest teammates ever. As I mentioned earlier the turf in Montreal destroyed the cartilage in his knees. When I played with him on the Cubs, every day he would arrive at the park several hours early, and literally limp to the training room to get his knees worked on (whirlpool, massage, ultrasound, analgesic, tape, and anything else available) so that he could compete that night. Yet despite his daily physical agony, he played every day and played as hard as anyone on the field. To this day I am in awe of what I witnessed him endure to play the game of baseball, and play it at a level that teammates and opponents alike admired and envied. He inspired other players to play harder, and was a great mentor to younger players coming up. He was a complete, impacting and enduring player. Is Andre “The Hawk” Dawson a Hall of Famer? No doubt in my mind.

You're Going To Make It After All!

Ok, before I get started on THIS day's rant..which one do you think is more "Me"?

Or

Like several movements of a symphony finally coming together, all the pieces and parts of what I've been saying the past few days have somehow melded together. Lets recap:

1. I need a vacation

2. My job is stagnant/I'm not challenged

3. I want to go to the beach

4. I love Pirates of the Caribbean

5. I used to be interesting and have things to talk about

6. I feel paralyzed in many areas of my life

Ok..HELLO, HELLO..HOLA!!!

Am I at a place called Vertigo? (sorry, had to squeeze in a U2 lyric reference in there)

No, I'm not at Vertigo. I am OVERWHELMED

Honestly, what kind of Laura Petrie/Mary Richards (I watch too much TVLand) incarnate do I think I am?! There is a DAMN GOOD REASON that Mary Tyler Moore was cast into two distinctly different shows at different times. Why on earth do I think I'm capable of being a funny, cute (or what passes for cute), supportive, oh-Rob! kind of woman whose needs are there only for comic relief and then be a woman in a male dominated field being top of my game, relevant, witty and smart all in the same day? Sometimes even in the same moment. Not even Hollywood and Carl Reiner could pull a story like that off.

As it turns out, I only have control over one of those things and it's the place I always turn to every single stinking time - my career. That I know how to do. I know how to pull myself up by my A-Line skirt and walk in and be that woman. That I know how to do. I'm nicht so gut at the Laura Petrie thing. That said, I will admit with every ounce of sincerity that, whether I'm Laura Petrie or Mary Richards, I make my own choices. Including not making a choice.

The fact of the matter is, I'm having a VERY hard time finding balance - as many women do - between the conflicting identities our males bosses and male lovers expect from us.

I need a break, I need to spend a little time being, frankly, a bitch.

Who can turn the world on with her smile?

Who can take a nothing day, and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile?

Well it’s you girl, and you should know it

With each glance and every little movement you show it
Love is all around, no need to waste it

You can have a town, why don’t you take it

You’re gonna make it after all !

How will you make it on your own?

This world is awfully big, girl this time you’re all alone

But it’s time you started living

It’s time you let someone else do some giving

Love is all around, no need to waste it

You can have a town, why don’t you take it

You’re gonna make it after all!

M'boogie Snickel Snickel

The subject header, aye, that's Jack Sparrow Cannibal talk for ye. Savvy?

Three viewings of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest and only 19 more to go to get to my Curse Of The Black Pearl record. I'm not talking about lazing about at home watching it on the ol' DVD while you clean your kitchen up (not a bad idea for tonight). I'm talking about paying good money to sit in the theater and watch it. M'boogie snickel snickel indeed!

This movie actually continues to get better every time I see it. There's no scene that matches the swash and buckle of the Black Pearl chasing the Interceptor. And of course, not since Jack Sparrow made his grand entrance, aloft the crows nest of a dinghy has any character made such a grand entrance in any movie, ever. It dethroned Mary Poppins lighting upon London on the end of a brolly for what will be a memorable if not legendary entrance on screen. Even better than Scarlett O'Hara peering up from her grand hat with a dozen beaus surrounding her. I could go on but I think you get my point. Savvy?

Dead Man's Chest is in week three and is at an estimaged $322 million. It's already closing in on Finding Nemo and a mere 60 million behind Sith. At this clip, could it come close to Star Wars or Titanic? I doubt it will dethrone Titanic - that intesreted literally everyone on the planet. I did think - in the middle of this - that it's quite possible this trilogy will be as memorable as Star Wars. The marketing on this is incredible this time around. But more to the point, it's got a lot of the same character elements as Star Wars. It's got a strong, sexy anti-hero (Jack Sparrow and Han Solo). It's got two naive youngsters (Will & Elizabeth, Luke & Leia). It's got a villian you love to hate (Darth Vader and Captain Barbossa) and a villian that is utterly vile (Davy Jones and Emporer Palpatine). It's the got the father/son conflict - a fallen father and idolizing son (Luke/Darth and Bootstrap/Will).. It's the beloved of a mode of transport, a ship (Millenium Falcon and The Black Pearl). It has two side kickes (C3po/R2D2 and Pintel/Ragetti). It takes place in exotic places with weird all-knowing characters living in swamps (Yoda and Tia Dalma). The character frequent places of ill repute, a haven of scum and villainy (Mos Eisley and Tortuga).

Come to think of it.. Methinks Pirate of the Caribbean has entirely ripped off Star Wars! Or rather, has Star Wars ripped off Pirate of the Caribbean?! When you think of how George Lucas fashioned Star Wars - after comic books and serials from the 50's, it would only make sense that the story archs would be similar to any standard Pirate Movie. So is it that Pirates is so true to the matinee Pirate flick that it actually comes full circle to one of the greatest triologies of cinema?

I'm glad I've had this little exercise in movie parallels because I went back and read entries in my journal from roughly a year ago. As it turns out, I used to be somewhat interesting and not bleating on about personal crap. I really need to re-engage my brain.

Time to swab the galley.

Oh it's raining cats and dogs

NOT.

It tinkle sprinkled about 10 minutes ago for less than 2 minutes. I'm glad the weathermen called it a total wash out.

You know what will happen, right? I'll go when there's a 20% chance of a rain and a Tropical Storm will well up 15 miles off the coast of Vero Beach and whomp right into me.

I'm in a bad, bad mood today. Even my latest purchase of a Bluetooth is not making me happy. My hair looks great, I have a tan, my nails even look pretty nice considering two broke today so why am I in such a piss-poor mood?!

Bugger.

Curses be to ya, weathermen!

I hate hate "meteorologists." As many people have noted, if I was as inaccurate and hit or miss as your run of the mill weatherman, I would be fired and never allowed to work again. I canceled my trip to the coast Saturday because it was going to rain "all day" and all night and "don't even THINK about leaving your house without an umbrella."

Because it was still sunny in the morning, I decided to go to Typhoon Lagoon to get some sun, "surf" and sand. I was there til almost 2pm and guess what? NO CLOUDS. NO RAIN. I made excellent progress on my tan, in fact. It started to get cloudy and then guess what? The sun came out again. IT NEVER RAINED. Darker clouds rolled in around 7pm (just in time for it to be dark anyway) but again, no rain. Not a stinking drop. This morning, it's SUNNY. I cannot believe I canceled a perfectly wonderful trip to the coast at a beachside resort and wound up doing absolutely sod all that I wanted to.

On the other hand, I actually cooked for the first time in, I guess, two or three weeks. That's a lie. I cooked last Sunday. But I mean, cooked just for me. I decided to try to get creative and try my hand at creating something entirely new. And the results, I'm happy to report, were very good. I made a cornbread stuffing that was semi-ripped off in inspiration from C's saltimbocca sauce/reduction. What I did was make a very simple pork chop with basic Tuscan flavors - olive oil, fresh rosemary, sea salt and black pepper. I roasted that and focused the complex flavors into the cornbread stuffing. I wanted to make a more traditional southern/soul cornbread dressing which essentially seems to be celery, corn and cornbread stuffing and jazz it up. I took the aforementioned saltimbocca sauce/garnish/whatever did and made it chunkier by a tenth maybe. Instead of using pancetta, I used smokey virigina bacon. Instead of generic white mushrooms for the cornbread dressing, I used finely sliced portabello muchrooms and sauteed them with the chopped bacon (and residual grease - bad I know, but I used only one slice) and olive oil so it crisped up into a meaty flavor (that idea stolen from Artist's Point). Added the onions, garlic, and finely chopped fresh sage and sauteed that til it was just starting to carmelize and added a shot of spanish red wine. Once the alcohol burned off, I mixed the cornbread cubes with a can of cream of celery, fresh chopped rosemary (rosemary, celery and corn are the cajun/southern/soul part) and then the saltimbocca-ish "relish" and tossed it together and baked it.

The flavors married up extremely well and provided a wonderful smoky, natural full accompaniement to the basic roasted pork chop. That one is a keeper. I didn't eat the whole thing because I have a tooth ache. Kim laughed at me when I told her that yesterday. She's convinced I'm inacapable of enjoying myself at any given time. I can't wait to tell Greg about it - he likes to keep up on my dental condition. He thinks I'm having an affair with a dentist and will actually blush when I bring it up. It's quite amusing.

I did get a full night's sleep at long last, which I needed badly. I think being outside, swimming, and then cooking and all that did the trick. I might try to get 2 days off this week after our big pow-wow on Wednesday and go to the coast one of those two days during the week.
Today I'll probably get together with Kim's family and go to a park and see a movie. I should clean the house a bit but I can't be arsed right now.

I just need to get out and spend time with other people. Everyone is out of town this weekend it seems or is busy and I just don't feel like being alone. One of my goals was to get back to the "life" I had before I let everything unnerve me. I had a very happy life personally. I think it's easy when stress enters a situation you start changing things unwittingly and then your stress becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

So off to the pool. And then wherever.

Have a Happy Sunday, wherever you all are reading from.

Incidentally...

No one laughs harder at myself than I do.

I was going to go out to the beach again today and spend the night. But now that it's supposed to be the rainiest weekend possible without a tropical system, I'm not sure what the heck I'm going to do. I WANT, BEACH, SURF AND SUN dammnit.

Come A Long Way

To be genuinely happy for another person is a gift, isn't it? This lyric rolled around in my head a lot today. 'nuff said.

I've come a long way
I've gone 500 miles today
I've come a long way
And never even left L.A.

~Michelle Shocked

Argh Fargh

I hate waiting.

So the debate over where to go on vacation still goes on because I didn't find out our new launch date yesterday afternoon like I expected to or last night. I just can't plan for what I might want to do when there's this gaping unknown in my near or distant future. I am going to try to take one and half weeks off - if I can't get away with two. Ideally I'm going to blend visiting friends with a proper getaway. I think what's happening is I won't allow myself to start dreaming up a holiday because if I don't get it, it'll be very disappointing and demoralizing.

Realistically, I won't take a big big holiday until after the project goes live. Meaning, going abroad(Europe, Asia, cruise whatever takes out out of country). I'm leaning towards the Keys because that seem to be the path of least resistance logistically, is new, I can drive it and it will be easier to get a friend to go with me. I would probably head to Miami first and spend the night there, check out a bit of that and reinforce my distaste for it. I would like to stay over in Boca but that's too far north to make a shorter trip of Day 2 getting to the Keys. Guess I could stay over on the way home..

White sand, clear water, key lime pie, margaritas, Ernest Hemingway - I have no idea why I have not gone there sooner.

I think I've made my decision!! Now I just need to hear if I can go.

Again, I hate waiting.

Random Acts Of Confidence

Based on a palmful of events yesterday, I got a snapshot of how complex self-confidence is and with what surgical precision it strikes.

First the crap news: our launch date is looking more like November now. I'm enlisting the buy in of one of our finance VP's to do it in October but he's not the only one to approve it but his opinion carry's a lot of weight. Probably more weight than anyone else.

I rallied yesterday for retention bonuses and vacations for hourly staff members who are impacted by this extension of hell. I've never done that before but I went all Norma Rae on the situation because I have legitimate concerns about people's endurance and effectiveness over this long haul that got longer. Myself included.

Then I went to a big meeting that had all the heads of businesses and IT to discuss launch dates for all these projects we have on our plate right now. When I walked in, the CIO was in there. I had a very tough meeting with her two weeks ago where she went 6S on me (Six Sigma - look it up, it's terrifying if you go up againt a 6S blackbelt and you've had absolutely no exposure to it save what you know from Goooooooogle). I had no idea after the end of that if she thought I was an eejit or not but when I saw her in our meeting room, she smiled and winked at me. I was the only person she actually acknowledged as we walked in. I actually took some pride and confidence in that. Her respect is not easily earned.

But I was quiet throughout the meeting and then one of the VP of I.T. made a VERY disingenous comment about a statement I made. Greg (the consultant I have constant fights and 2 hour reconciliation sessions with) started to defend/clarify what I had said and I just talked right over him and slammed her back down. I was SO ANGRY that she called me out like that and was outright wrong. I let it rip and said, "I am not going to sit in this room filled with the most intelligent people in our company and tell them ____" I got a lot of smiles and nods and she backed off. I could have told her it was her department that caused the f'up in the first place but I didn't.

When I take a step back and look at my day - rallying, coaxing, commiserating and yelling with VP's and C level officers of a Fortune 200 company, I'd have absolutely no issues with self-confidence or esteem. But those strike surgically, because as we know from the last 10 or so posts I have extremely low self-esteem and confidence personally.

I did all this, by the way, while fielding a bunch of hotel related questions for C. How can I cover the professional front while conducting a personal one?

(random injected thought - what IS this playlist? Alanis, Tina Turner and now the Spice Girls?!)

So, why is it with all that confidence, is it so vacant in other parts of me? Why do I think my experience isn't worthwhile against the density and mass of others? Why do I think my opinion counts for a Fortune 100 company, but not for myself?

Time for me to get to work. Ha.

Wow.

There are no words. I'm stunned right now by what I know of what some people are capable of doing to someone who trusts them and cares for them. I'm not speaking of myself or my present situation, nor can I reveal what despicable crime my friend had to endure. But I'll just say that the world can be a cruel, heartless and soulless place.

I heard from C for the first time in quite awhile it seems and he sounded exhausted (was exhausted) in LA. I felt for him - he's got a lot to deal with and I wish I could do more to be of help.

That said, tough times are what makes a person human - these moments where they are candid, raw and incapable of being impressive. The plasticine exterior many of us wear grows tiresome. Our emotions, our personal experiences are what makes us unique and valuable to others. Otherwise, we all may as well be at Madame Tussauds standing betwixt a phoney Britney Spears and a phoney Prince Charles.

I'm exhausted and need to go to bed - how can it be I'm the only sane person right now?

Vacation - all I ever wanted!

Been sitting here debating about what I want to get a fullfilling, relaxing holiday? The problem is the instability in my life. With the project launch being end of August or November 1st, that's a huge gap. I can't take a week off with a August launch, but I could with a November one. But if we don't push to November until end of August, that leaves me little time to plan ahead. Do I go alone? Solicit a friend to go with me? Would it even be worthwhile to go abroad? That question leads me to my next thought which is, whatever happened to the girl who would overseas with or without anyone? The girl who needed a I.V. jolt of being a foreigner to feel irrelevant and alive?

I can't believe I've become such a freaking pussy about this.

Where Friendship Begins

I meant to drop this in the middle of my 9000 posts of self-pity, but I also had a logistical problem with my camera.

-But-

When I was out in Satellite Beach, I drove out to my old school where I met my friends - Marie, Shannon, Lisa and Tammie. Our friendship was forged in the oddest of places - the Pavilion at Sea Park. So many memories, some of the bonds were short lived and temporary, others lasting, others interupted. But here is where a lot of it started..Bee-yoo-tiful ain't it?

And then Shannon said in this very 'hallway', "So which do you like better? Culture Club or Duran Duran?"

There's a photographic nugget from the past.

Pirate Booty

I again contributed heavily to the Disney coffers by going to see Pirates again for the 2nd weekend in a row. It's projected to be at $258 million for only it's second week.

At week 2, it's #34 on the all time money maker.. Aaaarrr!

Loved the movie more the second time.

Hide the rum!

Cornfields to Coquina

I went home to Satellite Beach yesterday. I have decided to accept Satellite Beach as a home recently. Going there brings me so much peace and contentment and happiness that I can only associate with a homecoming. With an estranged sister, a father that won't call me and a dead mother, the physical space that was our home acts as a surrogate family. In fact, I feel more at home there than I do in J'burg. So I headed east.

I toured around town a bit taking pictures of the old pavilion where I first met Lisa, Yolanda (hee), Shannon and Tammie. Then I hit the beach. I ate my Pirates of The Caribbean happy meal along the Atlantic Shore, then popped on my iPod, cued up the 80's playlist and walked for miles down the beach. I was SO happy, I felt so detached from the present and lived in the joy of past memories - of wandering beach side with my friends, my mom upstairs, sister scowling in her room and my dad off at work. I was completely alone as I walked up where the officer's beachside housing used to be but now it's completely vacant. I did reflect as I turned back south and saw Sandpiper Towers in the distance. I stood between the worst sadness I've ever known and the place I'm at now and realized.."Oh girl, it's been worse."

My friend Kim came out to see me - her life is in a greater shambles than mine is right now. She went with me to Chicago and saw where I grew up there too. I said to her as I traipsed through sea fauna and crushed coquina, "Different from Northern Illinois, isn't it?"

She's an ex-military brat (Army) and so she was just at home on the shores of P.A.F.B. as I was and we talked a lot about the impermanence of military life. Though my father was out of the Air Force by the time I was born, our family moved seven times before I was 13 years old. Granted none of the moves were like a military family makes but when you're four, or seven or 10 the smallest move disrupts your entire social and education life. She told me how you learn, when you grow up in the military you learn don't "need" anyone because you re-establish your friends in every new town.

We spent the day out there and then drove home. I listened to "Here Comes The Rain Again" as I drove over the Pineda Causeway. I remember being in the yellow Sentra with my mother and she loved that song - one of the few hits of the day that she and I could agree on - and it came on as we drove on the causeway. I remember thinking - at 11 or 12 years old - that I would never forget that she turned the radio up. I knew how sick she was and it was a moment I was emotionally mature enough to put away as a keepsake in my mind. I felt so close to her as I drove over the bridge and I wasn't saddened but strengthened.

On the excessively boring Beeline expressway, my thoughts crept up on me again and I cried a little bit about not knowing what was happening or going to happen. I came home and took the sand and sea spray off my body and got ready for bed. I settled down, happy I had done something so completely for myself (and for the most part by myself).

I'm lucky, but while I go to my friends for support, I've hid my sadness and withdrawn from the closest people in my life. I resist calling my grandmother, my sister because I'm so overtaxed personally that I can't find the room to be the caring, loving sister and granddaughter I expect myself to be.

Another Story There To Be Told

Gone, but not out of sight
I’m caught in the rain and there’s no one home
Face the heat of the night
The one that you love’s got a heart that’s made of stone
Shine and search for the light
And sooner or later you’ll be cruising on your ocean
And clean out of sight
I’m caught in the rain and there’s no one home

And I don't want to be alone.

-The Bee-Gees (really)

Good Enough..?

Oh boy. We all knew, dear readers, that we were in trouble while I was listening to "One" and now I'm listening to Sarah MacLachlan. I'm such a typical Gen X girl. You can find the Seven Stages of Love & Loss through a girl's iPod playlist.

First Stage: Shakira (superficial attraction)
Second Stage: John Mayer (gooey puppy love)
Third Stage: Enigma (deep lust)
Fourth Stage: U2 (falling in love)
Fifth Stage: Sarah Maclachlan (trouble looming, tough times)
Sixth Stage: Alanis Morrissette (hold onto your balls, boys)
Seventh Stage: Indigo Girls (condemn all men/turn into lesbian)

Hehehe, I amuse myself.

Anyway, today is a bad, bad day. Three of my closest friends here in FL are having serious marriage/relationship problems. One is approaching divorce and fighting for her marriage, the other is in an abusive relationship and I've journaled about the other one who's boyfriend is leaving her. Today I listened to all these stories, logging a matter of literal hours. Of course, I don't mind if it's me listening, they have had to endure my insecurities and tears plenty. But I often wonder why a person would work towards a goal that may not even be worth acheiving. When everyone you know has a bad marriage, why would you even bother trying the odds yourself?

If 85% of planes crashed, would you get on board?

Well my all time favorite movie, and really life, quote may apply here:

“ It is only we, with our capacity to love, give meaning to an indifferent universe ...... and yet most of the human beings seem to have a amazing ability to keep trying, and to even find joy from simple things like their family, their work and from the hope that future generations might understand more. " - Woody Allen, Crimes & Misdemeanors

Is It Getting Better, Or Do You Feel The Same?

One Love
One Life
When it's One need in the night
One Love
You get share it
It leaves you baby if you don't care for it

One of the best, most perfect songs ever written is that one - "One" by U2. Musically, lyrically..it truly is one of those songs that The Edge said seemed to "arrive." It's a song, a vibe, a feeling that seems to have lingered in the earth and sky until someone pulled it down and put it to human voice and sound. That and a song that Axl Rose allegedly played in his limousine over and over and over and over when his girlfriend broke up with him.

I'm drawn to the song deeply today for a multitude of reasons. One of my best girlfriend's boyfriend broke up with her yesterday. She's devastated because it happened right at that crescendo of a relationship - the moment where you realize you've fallen for someone. He's moving away and while the feelings are strong for her, they aren't strong enough for him to put a stop to his pursuit of his own happiness.

You say love is a temple
Love the higher law
Love is temple
Love the higher law
You ask me to enter
Then you make me crawl

So I accompanied her to a local restaurant to keep her company and listen to her cry and wonder how someone could walk away from the possibility of love. As a cruel twist of fate, we happened to get seated next to a couple who were clearly on a first, blind date. Their converation was loud but seemed louder than it might have been because the converation was cruel to my friend's sad soul. The woman was quite something, with boobs as big as basketballs falling out of her dress and saying glib nonsense like, "My friends all like me for my personality, wit and charm." Who says things like that, seriously? It hurt my friend to hear their conversation. She kept asking me, "Is this what I'm in for? Starting over like that with some cheesy conversation?"

Is it too late tonight
To drag the past into the light?
We're One but we're not the same
We're to carry each other.
Carry each other.
One.

I confessed to her that I was having similar feelings listening and watching this spectacle of a first date. I am terrified that I could soon be facing punching that same restart button and sitting in a restaurant with a stranger trying to convey who I am in a few simple, flirty sentences. And that thought terrified me, though she already has to push the restart, reboot and start over. The couple's conversation was like rubbernecking a god awful accident. When I think about my own situation, I know I can create that situation for myself. No matter what, the abandoned little girl will never believe she deserves love. She will always believe she deserves what she got - loss.

We left the restaurant and went to her mother's house to clean out more things. Her mother passed away recently and the long slow process of removing the remanents of a powerful life and love is still a part of my friend's daily life. It's a difficult task for me, because my friend has the same trio of rare diseases that killed my mother. To be there as she sorts through her dead mother's life with her frail blue hands is almost like standing at the axis of the circle of my own life. I'm the child again, watching life repeat itself in someone else's world. I always known she was brought into my life for a reason.

One love
One blood
One life
You got to do what you should
One life
With each other
Sisters. Brothers.
One life but we're not the same
We get to carry each other
Carry each other
One...

When I drove home, I was compelled to put "One" on my iPod and fall inside the song. I know why I am the way I am - I was twelve years old packing up dresses, jewelery, papers with handwriting on them, shoes, eyeglasses, watches, make up and hairbrushes of a woman who gave me life and protected me from everything and anything that tried to step between a mother and a daughter. My friend is ten years older than I am and a mother of teenagers and I watch the how hard it is for her to deal with this and I wonder how in God's name did I get through it at 12 years old? That experience bore a frightened, broken, self-protective girl whose only truth might be expecting a loss of the fiercest, strongest and most tender love. That broken girl has stabbed every happiness in the back and she knows no man, no one person can ever stop her except the woman who she lives inside. I've never fought harder than I have these weeks to not allow it to happen to me again, to render me alone with words unspoken, touches that have not been extended and sitting on a dreadful first date trying to convey this whole life into a summary of my wit and charm.

Yes, One is a powerful song. The most powerful I know because it speaks to me on all these levels of the holiest of love and most sordid and earthly of love. But no part of that song rings more true than these and for that, I can say no more and no better.

I can't be holding on to what you got
When all you got is hurt

Dead Men Tell No Tales

Finally saw the sequel I've been waiting for - Pirates of The Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest and my oh my! It was GOOD! I would not say it was better than the first but I didn't expect it to be either. It was thrilling, entertaining and all things a movie should be. It's a long movie - near 2.5 hours but it went by like a flash. When it ended, I was surprised and said "How can it be over?!"

It's amazing what a phenonmenon this movie has become. Almost everywhere around Orlando you'll hear someone say "Capt Jack Sparrow" or "Pirate" - it's really become a cult classic. For it's first weekend it's already grossed $132 million. The woman at the box office today told us that the midnight showings were sold out over 14 screens!!!!

Yesterday was a nice day as well. After some hemming and hawing I decided to head out to Satellite Beach and spend the day out there. I went with my friend Maria and hit Bunky's and then spent the remainder of the day in the surf. The water was kind of rough and wild but warm. I loved being out there - it feels like home still in an odd way. Had a surreal moment sitting at Bunky's. I've only been there about three times since I last ate there sometime in 1985. The place has moved from its original location but is nonetheless the same. Back in 1985 if I wanted to talk to a friend, I had to go home, get on the corded phone in the kitchen and dial a rotary. I had no privacy and calls cost money (I'll never forget the time I had a $5 charge to Micco, I thought my parents were going to bury me at sea). But there I was eating the same wings I always have - albeit with a Corona rather than a Sprite - and my little tiny Motorola Slvr buzzes and I got a text message from C. It seemed so futuristic in the land that time forgot.

On a personal note, the text message was a of a safe landing. I thought that was very sweet thing to do and completely unexpected.

So that was the weekend and now work really begins - we're ramping up for an 8/8 go live and the heavy hitting rises again.

Batting Average

C came over for a few days while covering for another doctor. We didn't do anything spectacular - went to the movies, made dinner (another outrageously fantastic meal), went out to eat, played a bit at Pop Century, saw Animal Kingdom Lodge, went on a 6 or 7 mile run/bike ride (I'll take his word for it was that far, I have no clue). Very average.

The Sun Is Sometimes Eclipsed By The Moon

re subject header - Quoth the Bono.

I watched the sun come up this morning. It's what I call a Bahamian sunrise where the clouds are different shades of blue and grey, backlit by an azure sky and streaks of gold rum coloured sunlight. It reminds me of the early morning Deck 9 walks I'd have on the cruise ship, seeing Nassau port in view. The sun is still rising now but is starting to look more like a normal day.

It's quiet and still in the house and I'm tired. Got home at 1am after seeing a late movie. Superman would have been a good movie were it about 45 minutes shorter than it was...possibly another movie altogether. Didn't feel Lois and Superman had any real chemistry either. But anyway, being the idiot I am I woke up at 5am so I've gotten little sleep but am wide awake. So now I'm having my morning cuppa with some coconut oil - it's quite good in coffee. Still no plans for the day but that's OK.

We Have Liftoff

Space Shuttle Discovery launched successfully yesterday but I missed seeing it since it was overcast out here. What an amazing time those astronauts must be having right now...

The fireworks in downtown Celebration were quite nice yesterday as they always are. Chad and I took a glass of Conundrum down to the lakefront and watched it from the "residents" side which is right where Lake Evalyn meets town lake. There's no music there but it's far more peaceful. We walked into town afterwards and had paella from Columbia which was yummy. He embarassed me on the walk back home and I'd rather not embarass myself further by recounting it here. But I laughed enough to snort.

So today I'm back to work with a handful of ugly meetings to take. I made Ropa Vieja yesterday for dinner tonight so when I get home from work it's easy peasy dinner.. Back..to..work. Ugh.

Yankee Doodle Went To Town

Happy 4th of July all!

It's going to be a remarkable day here in Florida. The ultimate rocket show will be on today - the Space Shuttle is going to launch at 2:30 and it's looking very likely to go with the sunny clear skies. My plans for today are a bit vague but why criticize a day where work is Not An Option?!

This morning I woke up insanely early (again) and dozed for awhile watching a Tracy/Hepburn movie. Then when the sun was firmly up, I jumped on my bike and went for an hour ride. For now I'm going finish moving extra "stuff" up into the attic, meet Maria for lunch, get a pot of Ropa Vieja ready for dinner tomorrow (it's always better the next day), and then at some point, Chad will arrive and fireworks are at the lake at 9pm. Unfortunately I can't celebrate too much, I have a big meeting tomorrow I need to be in top mental shape for. I wish I could have had the whole week off but it wasn't meant to be. Thursday I did get a vacation day.

So I better get stuff up in the attic before the sun turns it into a sauna. Have a safe and happy 4th of July!

Pooper Scooper Revisited

It looks like really and truly my neighbor has moved out and my yard shall be pooped on no more. I had meant to upload this photo the last time I blogged about this crapping canine but forgot.

This is a "no pooping" sign from Germany - I should have bought one when I had the chance at a DIY store in Schweinfurt. But nein, it was too expensive at around $20. Turns out it would have come in handy.

It's priceless, innit?

No Go

Yesterday was a disappointing day. We were all set and actually heading out to the Cape to see Space Shuttle Discovery launch when the thunderheads rolled in and the launch was scrubbed. We made tenative plans to go again today but didn't even set out for the coast when we saw the clouds roll in early. And of course, the mission was scrubbed again. The next window is set for Tuesday, July 4th and I intended to head out to Satellite Beach that day. That can be a good thing or a bad thing depending on how you look at it - the beach might be crowded but post-launch traffic heading back to Orlando could be mental. So what should have been a lazy day out there might become neccessary to calculate out and plan.

However, all was not lost as I was able to see the soft opening of the "enhanced" Pirates of the Caribbean ride. The changes were subtle but amazing! The Capt Jack Sparrow animatronics were so life like and so dynamic that it completely upstaged the rest of the ride. The enhancements to the parts before the fall are amazing, eerie and very cinematic. It managed to emulate to some degree the idea of crossing into the moonlight and oh - I just LOVED it. The movie comes out July 7th and I am hoping to be able to be there for it but I am willing to wait a day or two to let some crowds thin out. Anyway, I would like to go to the movies with my girlfriends , we are all big Johnny Depp fans and went to see it umpteen times for Black Pearl...But because it's a holiday weekend many are out of town so I don't know if that will materialize.

So tonight I'm meeting up with Kim and her family - we're going to Dixie Crossroads which has been on our minds since the two scrubbed attempts at going to Titusville for the launch. There's one here in Orlando which I'm sure is not as good but probably worth going to. I have to be at work tomorrow and I so don't want to go. Bleah.

What Say You To That, eh?

This week is a week I have been waiting for for the better part of 2 years. July 7th is the release date of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. My favorite movie of all time and not only is the movie coming out but the big reveal on the ride rehab as can be seen in this funny video with Johnny Depp. I am hoping to round up my Johnny Depp girlfriends to go see the movie together.

For most people this is a big 4-day weekend but for my lousy company it's a standard weekend with a crummy day off on Tuesday and I couldn't get Monday off. So what should have been a nice getaway weekend is now just a plain old weekend. I decided, rather than try to do to much in 2 days, I would focus on cleaning out my closets (the linen closet and my clothes closet are an utter disgrace) and the guest room which has become a storage site of late. The rest of the house is actually in reasonable condition so if I get those pieces done I think I'll actually be in quite good shape.

For all I complain about the non-holiday weekend, I do have Tuesday and a vacation day I took for Thursday. Chad will be here working all next week except for Thursday. No clue what we're going to do except he's ready to cook dinner again for me. I'm going to cook for him as well - I think I've met my great and worthy opponent in the kitchen..Iron Chef Celebration? I know he's better than I am. I can be happy being a sous chef - less stress :-) All is going well with him, still I realize I'm an old maid at the end of the day. I'm just so terribly independent and self-sufficient it's hard to a) let someone take care of me and b) take care of someone else.

Old Maid, Me. Next week: Pirate Me! Arrrgh!