Archive for April, 2006


In exactly one month from today I will be driving in a car alone with my mother for 30 hours to Austin.

That is all.



I just wanted to post this picture from CB’s visit. I know it must seem like ages ago to you, but I still think about it every day. Besides, it was on Meg’s camera, so I didn’t get it until recently.


I think I may have mentioned that I’m taking some classes at the local community college toward a certificate in Technical Writing. I’m in my 3rd class of 5 and this one is “Math and Science for the Technical Writer.”

I spent the first two classes dreading this one. As Barbie so eloquently put it to the next generation “Math is hard!” Math is my nemesis. My brain just doesn’t work that way. I can’t even make change in my head. I’m not proud of this, but I do have a tendency to use it as an excuse. Growing up I was shuffled into “gifted classes” and I remember the exact day when they told me that I couldn’t be in the gifted math classes any more. I was in 5th grade. I cried because being “smart” was my place in the social strata of school.

All this to say that Math became increasingly more torturous for me until I hit Alegbra. Until I took this night class I’d forgotten how much I liked Alegbra. Granted it still took me a bit longer to grasp each concept. But I could do this, the rules made sense. They gave you a set of instructions and if you followed them you got credit even if you came out with the wrong answer.

There was something so soothing and serene about taking an equation and solving for x. First you did this. Got that over there now, great. Next you did that. First, Inside, Outside, Last. And at the end there was that satisfying feeling of circling your answer. x=3.

I hadn’t realized I missed the simple pleasure of hearing lead on paper and the joy of a good eraser. It’s been fun rediscovering this tiny, cobwebby part of my brain. I find myself enjoying this a lot more than the first two classes that I breezed through.

‘Tis the Season

Here in Eastern PA things are just starting to get around to blooming, especially the flowering trees. The air is warmer in the afternoons but still chilly mornings and evenings, it also kind of smells like wet soil. Or—if you live close enough to farm land, as I do—like wet something else.

This all means that the topic of conversation will shortly turn to allergies. For so many people that I talk to spring=pollen=death. I’m sure I get more snuffly now and then during the spring, but for the most part I’m lucky in being able to take deep breaths of the fresh air and sleep with my window open.

But just so you don’t think I have no sympathy (that sounds wrong) I thought I’d share my weird allergy with you. You know how, sometimes, for reasons inexplicable to the average person you’ll get kind of a hurty white bump on your tongue? My mom thinks it’s from drinking directly out of cans and bottles, and she could have a point if you think about it. But that one hurty white bump on your tongue is all you can think about when you get it. It hurts to touch your tongue against your teeth so that’s all you do all day long.

For those of you that know what I’m talking about, now imagine if every single one of the taste buds on your tongue turned into a hurty white bump. . .all. . .at. . .once.

This is what happens to my tongue if I use this evil stuff:

Just the tartar control stuff, mind you. Imagine if you will how long it took us to deduce toothpaste as the culprit! And you wouldn’t believe how long it takes me to actually find a toothpaste without tartar control.

Unfortunately, my tongue seems to be growing more sensitive. The next thing to be added to the hurty bump list was:

Soon to be followed by anything hot and cinnamony. But the one that really gets me, the one that really makes me feel lost, and also the latest addition to the list is this:

No! Not my precious Orbit Bubblemint gum! Does my tongue not know that I need at least a full pack of this to get my through a day at work—a day frought with all the hazards of free donuts, free chocolate, and free leftover birthday cake? Does it not know that the sweet goodness was becoming my signature scent? I need my bubblemint. Need….bubble…mint…need bubble…arrrrgh…..

Do you have any weird allergies?


I’m fine with it–change I mean–as long as I’m the one who has initiated it. I’ll pack up my life and move to Texas and then move back with little more thought than “how am I going to fit all that in my car?” But when things are changing around me and I feel like I’m standing still. . .that’s when I go a bit crazy.

On a small scale it happens a lot at work. My job pretty much entails me sitting here and sometimes I’ll sit over there for a bit, but usually here. The engineers, they get to go build things or tear things apart. They go to conferences to meet with others of their kind and talk about building things or tearing them apart. I mostly just sit here. It bugs me sometimes.

One of my favorites at work is moving across the country. He’s still going to work for the company just not here…where I sit. He makes things fun. He’s always up to mischief–like shrink wrapping something. It’s gonna suck without him, but I’ll still be sitting here doing the same stuff I did while he was in the office 3 doors down.

The night before CB’s flight home I told him that I envied him. It’s always easier to be the one who is leaving than the one who is left. I explained that he got to have the pleasure of going back, where everyone would be excited to see him and hear his adventures. To say nothing of that wonderful feeling of returning home from a good trip. While I had to just plod on here, where everything reminded me of him, or smelled like him, or was just the same as it ever was…only without him. Work home sleep, just like his trip had never happened. Me sitting here. Without him. He may have thought I was either crazy or just extremely and adorably emotional, I’m not sure.

So I guess sometimes there are drawbacks to being fairly content with my life. The people around me aren’t necessarily content with theirs. So they do something about it. And I’m left wondering if I really am content or just complacent.

As an aside (or an underneath as the case may be) there are things in my life that have remained so comfortingly constant. Like my friendship with Meg. We had a second session of trying on wedding dresses for her last night and I can’t remember the last time I laughed SO HARD that I had to cross my legs. Thanks, Meggie!


So I’ll take your suggestions this week and rethink the text colors, size, etc. I’ll do it on my laptop so I make sure it reads well on an LCD screen.

I had a horrid week last week, for various reasons, but mainly because I waited til the last minute to get my car inspected. I almost got fleeced out of $581 for unneeded repairs! Luckily a co-worker was a master auto technician for 20 years and suggested that I take it somewhere else. I took it to another place, didn’t mention the previous fiasco and it passed with nary a comment except that they had to change some light bulbs. Which, by the way, was something that the $581 place didn’t even mention, although I’m sure they would have if they’d noticed and thought they could get money out of it. All in all I learned a good lesson, and I suppose $180 is a better price for that lesson than $581, although it should have been about $70 if I’d done things right in the first place.

However, on a brighter note, I invented a wonderful dessert last night. It might even be considered by some to be semi-health-conscious. I threw some strawberries in a ziploc bag and froze them. Not to where they’re like ice chunks, you still want to be able to bite them. I can’t give you a time period for this, you’ll just have to experiment. When the strawberries were good and frozen I took some half and half and poured it in the ziploc bag with the strawberries along with a couple teaspoonsful of Splenda. I shook the bag, turned it upside down and shook it some more.

The wondrous thing is, because the strawberries were frozen the mixed sugar and half and half not only coated the strawberries, it froze to them. I can’t even tell you how delicious they were! If you try it, let me know what you think.


A blog about my life and other stuff.

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;
And I am Marie of Romania.

Dorothy Parker, Not So Deep as a Well (1937)