and a happy new year

my friend lindsay told me that 2008 is going to be an amazing year.
an electric year.
lindsay is a smart person and a bit of a psychic.
so
if she said it, chances are, she's right.
she said that if you turn the number 8 on its side
it becomes the symbol for infinity.
and apparently, that means good stuff.
i'm willing to believe it.

new year's is the best of holidays.
only slightly edging out the fourth of july.
last new year's eve was spent standing on the main street bridge
in the pouring rain
with a kazoo in my mouth.
i hope for better things this new year's eve.
like a fire in the fireplace.
staring at it with my family.
something good to eat.
a modest amount of drink.
clear and peaceful thoughts.
my wooden pen and journal.
as usual, i will fight the urge to
create a long list of re-run resolutions:
eat better, exercise more, read more, spend less, be more patient ....
intentions are always good but
resolutions tend to intimidate me more than inspire me.
so i will just try to focus on a few things:
start as many days as possible with meditation
keep rooted in the now (which is all we really have)
and beat my son john at arm wrestling.
there is so much more i want to
strive for, experience and accomplish,
but i'm going to keep it simple.
and leave some room for
adventure,
fate
and
electricity .

giving what you would like to receive

last night while at a christmas eve gathering, the subject of gift giving and re-gifting came up.
one very honest soul admitted that she bought a present ( a book)
for her son mostly (entirely?) because she knew that she would be able to read it when
he was done with it.
so in actuality, it was a gift to herself, but with his name on the tag.
most of us have probably done the same thing.
i'm sure that i have.
feeling strongly that this concept needed it's own name,
i dubbed this phenomenon "pre-gifting".

another person told an amazing tale of a friend that gave her a gift this year with the condition
that it be returned to her within six months.
that's a new one on me.
but seemed like it needed a moniker as well.
we called this a gloan (meaning :gift- but -really- a-loan) .

we spent the remainder of the evening trying to come up with a name for a business
for one of the people at the party.
it started off as an earnest pursuit to help jim brainstorm some viable ideas
but eventually devolved into a mostly lewd and lascivious laughter fest. that session of hardcore laughter
was the best present i have received
in a long time (other than my laptop).

merry christmas .
with wishes for a hearty HO HO HO filled new year!

christmas comes early

this morning, before i even got out of bed,
santa came and dropped a laptop on top of my pajama-clad lap!
this is my first entry made with my adorable thinkpad.
now i can realize one of my long held dreams..blogging from bed.
when and if i actually do get out of bed, i can go to starbucks without having to look enviously at all the happy people avec frappachinos mysteriously tapping out words on their notebooks, wishing that i could be a member of that exalted wi-fi club. now at last i can join the ranks of those
people.
funfunfunfunfun!!

wishing you a merry little christmas

a retro picture from a wee weelo christmas circa 1964 or '65...
looks like i was working the cindy- lou who from who-ville thing.
red is still my favorite fun fashion statement.
need to get me a festive pair of slippers like these.

fa la la la la la la la la

christmas morning 1967:
come downstairs
count gifts under tree
make sure i have more than my sister. (I don't).(Harumph!)
check to see if santa ate the plate of cookies. (he did).
rip open many brightly wrapped packages and pretend to be surprised
even though i begged unmercifully for the stuff
and went on a full tilt search mission throughout the house every night for the last month trying to find where my parents hid my unwrapped gifts (i found them).
recount opened gifts
ditch all the big items
play with stocking gifts
because they are always the coolest.

christmas morning 2007:
come downstairs
watch my kids count their gifts
to see who got more..(he did! No, he did!)(Harumph!) (Harumph!)
hope they don't notice that i forgot to put santa's cookies out. (they notice).
watch them open the gifts that i had time to wrap

answer their question about unwrapped toys
by saying that santa is trying to be "environmentally conscious" this year and wants to "Save the trees!"!
(they're not buying it)
watch them not act surprised because they
mostly got what they asked for
watch them eventually
ditch all the big items
because stocking gifts
are still the coolest.

lost and found

today i am grateful for many things.
i am grateful that i did not burn any of the pies that i am bringing to my brother's house too badly.
i am grateful for the ice cream and whipped cream that will cover up any minor imperfections in the pies.
i am grateful that this week i found my favorite shirt when i was pretty sure it had vanished off the face of the earth.
i am grateful for moments of lightness, and peace.
happy thanksgiving!

making lists and checking them twice

i love lists.
not just "to do" lists...although they rank high on my list of lists that
i create most frequently.
there are short lists, like :people i can actually imagine driving cross country with
without killing before making it to Iowa.
there are long lists, like: funny people that also happen to be jewish.
there are medium sized lists, like: things i would do differently if given the chance.
now for us listaholics there is a place to go to indulge this soft addiction.
www.gubb.net.
you can compile an infinite number of lists..each with it's own color scheme..and you never have to wonder where you put the darn thing. the coolest part is the little pencil icon that crosses items off when they are accomplished. it's astonishingly gratifying.
i'm on vacation right now.
on the morning of my first day off, i ran down to my computer full of energy, purpose and optimism as i created list after list of what i was going to do with all of my vacation time.
unfortunately i have spent so much time on Gubb monkeying around with my lists that i have only completed 4 or 5 items.
should have put "play with Gubb lists" at the top of my list.
i definitely could have checked that one off!

things i tell myself though they ain't really true

we tell ourselves stories don't we?
i realized this this morning after eating a huge bowl of postal cafeteria oatmeal, which i do on most mornings.
the story i tell myself about my oatmeal is that after i eat it, i can then eat as much crap as i want
because somehow the oatmeal will act as a homeopathic Drain-o and purge my body of all the hydrogenated, sugar-filled cookies, brownies, muffins, and little debbies that i also consume nearly every morning.
oatmeal is rightfully touted as one of those majorly healthy power foods.
but i'm thinking i may just be better off without it.

the things we'd save from a fire

With the recent wildfires in southern california,
i have been thinking about
which material possessions i would grab
as i dashed from my flaming abode.
the kids, husband and bunny are safe.
i guess i would throw my fireproof strongbox out the window
knowing full well that it's not really fireproof
and that only half of the important papers that should be in it, are in fact, in there.
family photos, of course..(if i only knew where they were.)
john menihan's art work
my journals
the kids' artwork and writing
my curious george purse ( with my wallet in it hopefully..it would be a drag to have to get a new license).
and my red sneakers.
i find that i can deal with any difficult life situation more easily
when wearing the red sneakers.
i really don't feel attached to too many "things".
not that i don't want lots of stuff.
i just don't have lots of stuff.
i think i like looking at stuff and wanting stuff
more than actually owning it.
owning stuff is a pain because you have to put it somewhere
and then remember where you put it.
and you have to USE it or else you feel guilty for
buying it and not USING it.
the other day i was looking at a catalog
filled with items to help with meditation practice.
i showed jonah a zen clock that bongs a nice chime throughout the day to remind you to be mindful.
i also showed him a neat meditation mat.
then i reminded him that my birthday was swiftly approaching.
he shook his head and said "Mom, did Buddha sit on a mat and have a meditation clock?"
"No, Jonah, he probably did not".
"Then I really think that you don't need one either".
guess he gave me a little lesson on non-attachment!
Did I mention that Jonah was born on Dec.8, the day of Buddha's enlightenment?
So Buddha didn't have a clock or a mat , but i bet, if he could have, he would've had red sneakers.

Reunited

i know that things are just things, but some things have the power to make me enormously happy.
the color red is one such thing.
Curious George is another.
my Curious George purse changed my mood every time i wore it.
i lost the purse several months ago and while i tried to carry on with "life as usual.." there was a real sadness connected with this loss.
i bought the purse right before jonah was born almost 11 years ago.
his first gift.
which i quickly co-opted.
i have never seen another one like it.
my purse has been the envy of many women. total strangers have approached me to proclaim their fondness for it.
when it vanished,
i tried to retrace my steps, to no avail.
the last few months i have looked and relooked, finally giving up and accepting that i may never see it again.
tonight while looking for a winter comforter i found my favorite fashion accessory
hiding on a peg in a closet underneath a hoodie.
what a complete rush of joy
to see george's happy monkey face again!
there are some things
that go beyond thingdom.
my red sneakers.
my elvis power ring.
and george.
welcome home buddy.
it's crazy how much i missed you.

new word...and new magazine

two days ago i learned about a new boomer oriented magazine at work.
wally brought it over to show me.
it's called geezerjock and features articles for and about aging weekend warriors.
you can even buy geezerjock clothing at a place called bluehair active wear
oddly enough, a friend went to the doctor yesterday. he was dressed kind of sporty-like and didn't his doctor call him "GEEZERJOCK"? I'm not kidding.
you can tell that boomers are editing all of the major mags now.
AARP had a teaser on it's cover about 10 ways to look better..
didn't AARP used to run teasers about 10 ways to feel better?
we boomers are so vain. yes, carly, we do think the song was about us.

and now for the word that i learned today.
i was reading an article in New York magazine entitled "Everybody Sucks". the graphic on the first page of the article was a computer keyboard. in place of individual letters on the keys, each key was adorned with a put down...for example: nut job, dork, freak, fugly..and then i saw it...SADULT!!!
wow! that hurts. rather be a nut job than a sadult!

side effects

last friday my son came home from school sick.
the next day i started feeling like garbage.
on monday i took my son to the doctor for a strep test.
the quick test came back negative.
two days later find out he was positive.
go to my doc for a throat culture.
it was negative but they decided to start me on penicillin just in case.
after a few doses i'm not feeling any better AND my mouth starts feeling sore inside.
i go home and check the medication info for side effects..something i am loathe to do because once you read them it can scare the hell out of you.
i scanned the patient prescription literature.
there it was.."mouth sores may occur".
and then i read this:
"ALTHOUGH UNCOMMON, YOU MAY DEVELOP A BLACK,"HAIRY" TONGUE WHILE TAKING THIS MEDICATION. THIS EFFECT IS HARMLESS AND USUALLY GOES AWAY AFTER TREATMENT".
now i'm feeling really sick.
too bad it's not closer to halloween..could be a great addition to a werewolf costume.
wonder what the side effects of the medicine they give you for "BLACK HAIRY TONGUE" are?

objects of my obsession

we all need to have our happy place.
mine has always been the ocean.
this baby is more accessible..and i can always fill it with sand if need be.

i think the carriage house is the winner.
of course it needs a few more windows
but other than that
it's perfect......
i'm in love!
just goes to show,
one woman's shed is another woman's creativity castle!

(click on it to enlarge)

How much for a bushel of apples?

Last sunday i took the kids for a drive to a nearby apple farm.
we needed to get out of the house, enjoy the day, and buy a bushel of apples.
pretty straightforward agenda.
we got to the place and it was a mob scene.
wound up parking in a field quite a ways away from the building.
in order to get to the building you had to walk through the field which would have been no big deal EXCEPT for the fact that on that particular day there was an "open house" for these shed-type buildings set up there.
i tried to walk on by, but they were calling my name.
there were many models to choose from.
all were dolled up with windows and shutters. one had a FRONT PORCH. another had an upstairs.
i've given up on the vespa and now am fully fixated on building an adult playhouse in my backyard.
what would i do in there?
sit.
look out the window.
listen to music.
write.
read.
paint.
lie on my back.
can't i do those things in my house?
yes.
but it's different in a creativity shack.
outbuildings have figured into my life in a magical way since childhood.
my dad's sister had the "little house" down by the pond (and pavilion!) in her backyard.
she and my cousin used to paint and create stuff down there.
our neighbors in fairport had a barn in their backyard...right on Main St.
it was a kids only barn . we hung there constantly and felt like we were out in the sticks..far from our sterile suburban lives.
my first boyfriend also had a mini barn in his backyard and i probably loved it as much as i loved him..and that was A LOT!!
after moving to East Rochester our pet goat, Clea, even scored her own imitation log cabin in her pen.
it's my turn now!
the person in charge of the open house could see she had a "live one" in me and gladly gave me fact sheets, phone numbers and info about the fall sale ..along with a price list. for a 10x10..only $68.00/month . that is of course without the windows and shutters....and no porch!!
we bought our apples.
and some carmel sauce to dip them in.
donuts.
milk.
pumpkin pie.
but i left my heart there in that field with a bunch of vinal clad glorified tool sheds.
two weeks ago there was an article in the sunday paper about a growing trend towards people building adult playhouses rather than additions.
it feels good to know i'm not alone.
now i've got to check out the town zoning laws.
and convince my better half.
after all, he built a sauna out there years ago.. and it looks lonely.

my own master card commercial

anti aging facial :

$150.00

botox injection:

$375.00

laser resurfacing :

$1,250.00

laughing at your laugh lines:

priceless

good news /bad news

the bad news is that global warming seems to be taking hold of the planet.
the good news is that this winter will be warmer and drier than usual. and that means i will (theoretically) hate my job less than usual in the months of december through march.
global warming : bad
increased job satisfaction: good.

so now i am faced with yet another in a never ending stream of moral dilemmas.
what size should my carbon footprint be?
small enough to not destroy the planet
but large enough to ensure an ever so slightly more comfortable winter.
better talk to al gore about this one.

fantasy vs. reality

a very minor magical tiny little miracle..but still

there's nothing worse than having to spend money on something that has to be done, but you can't see...like a new roof or a prefunctory car repair. when i spend money i want to see it in action...like an utterly comfortable yet attractive new piece of furniture..or a geeky/sexy vintage looking motorbike (yes, i'm still on that kick).
so when the toilet in our powder room started acting up 6 months ago..the first plan of action was to tinker with it.shaking and adjusting all the things i could think of . sadly, that didn't work.
next came phase two: ignore it and hope that it would stop on it's own. that didn't work either.
it was becoming a real nuisance . something had to be done.
i went to the last card in my hand: threatening it with a visit from the plumber.
last night at dinner my son told me that the toilet fixed itself! and today it's STILL fixed.
just call me the toilet whisperer.
next issue: what to buy with the money i saved on that call to the plumber?
better yet, maybe i can make a business out of talking to people's appliances and undercutting the cost of having a professional do the job.
think i might have to move to california to start up that biz.

Vespa-rate housewives

so much for trying not to be materialistic.
i fell head over heels yesterday for a red retro looking Vespa.
i have convinced myself that buying one is the only responsible thing for me to do, what with global warming and all.
60 miles to a gallon.
it's a beautiful thing.
mentioned it to a few people.
all agreed i would meet an untimely death ("pretty soon mom you'll be looking up at us" jonah assured me, implying that i will end up in God's basement. "and you'll look like a geek riding that thing" added john).
but sometimes a woman's got to do what a women's got to do.
"you can't spend our college fund money on that mom".
what college fund???
stay tuned.

Adultitis..get the facts

Stop whatever you're doing..well keep reading this first..then check out my new link
Escape Adulthood.
Get diagnosed ..see if you have adultitis. ( I do).
Then get help..there is an escape plan. Bless these folks for creating it.
I will share the results of my treatment program with you.
Hopefully i will be more successful than Brit, and Lindsay!

the S word

my children jumped down my throat last week when i casually mentioned buying back to school stuff.
"how can you say that to us?" johnny wanted to know..obviously scarred by my attempt to prepare them for the return to early bedtimes, homework and other unspeakable things.

i get it. i was a kid once.
ok. still am one.
but thinking back.. and this may be another case of revisionist history...i distinctly LIKED going back to school.
loose leaf paper.
new glue.
virgin erasers.
but mostly the CLOTHES.
bell bottom cords.
new track shoes.
NEW NEW NEW!!! STUFF!
clean slate
new teacher to love or hate
never seemed to go down the middle.
maybe a new boy to obssess over.
notes to be passed without being caught.
and somewhere on the list..
learning .
library books to help me mind travel
assignments.
liked that word.
sounded like something secret agents carried out.

september is renewal
more so than january one
life starts over
open your book
pick up your pencil
amd begin

Some stuff I still find myself wanting even though I'm trying extra hard not to be materialistic

1) haunted by the desire to drive a fun car. a two seater convertible. stereotypic mid- life crisis I know..but I've craved this since I could drive. doesn't eveyone? maybe I can rent one for a weekend and that will blow it out of my system.

2) one of those scandinavian leather sling- type recliners. good lamp. good books. time to park
my butt there.

3) an out building/creativity shack in the back yard. good light. paints. canvas.

4) laptop and wireless internet..so i can blog in bed.

5) a groovy little dog that is cute as anything, gets along with our rabbit, costs nothing and walks itself.

6) a front porch. with comfy chairs

7) a slightly bigger motor for our little boat.

there. i feel better now.

8) oh yeah. i almost forgot .trip to So Cal. and alright..might as well throw in a learn-to-surf vacation in Costa Rica while we're at it.

Ahhhhhh.
Now back to my regularly scheduled life.. which is pretty damn good as is.

9) Okay...and a mudroom..and maybe a minor little kitchen update...

Yep. I'm definitely done.

some recent pub for OUR book

My book! No my book! Kurt and Wendy get some face time in Messenger Post. Check it out!

http://www.mpnnow.com/lifestyle/x574730522

it's official

At a certain point in the aging process you look at your face and say " who exactly are you again? you look vaguely familiar."
your eyes aren't the twinkling, bagless, wrinkle-free beauties they once were. your forehead starts getting more grooves in it than one of your old vinal 45's. And you begin to wonder : am I still recognizable ? i haven't seen most of the people i graduated with 30 years ago since the day we graduated. i don't expect them to recognize me. but what about people i knew, say, 4 years ago...i.e. the people i used to see and talk to every day on my old mail route back when i was a semi-spring chicken ( OK, a 43 year old spring chicken, but still..).
well, this week i had to deliver a section of my old route. it was a sunny day and many of my dear old customers were out in their yards. i decided that i wouldn't say anything except "hello", and see if they remembered me. out of about 6 people..4 didn't recognize me at all, one did the old double take, and one said " I thought that was you..you look different!". Thanks so much for that affirming comment. It's official. I'm old. Now I can stop wondering. Glad I got that out of the way!

August 1967 vs. August 2007

then: get up. watch cartoons. eat Captain Crunch. put on bathing suit. run through sprinkler.drink Koolaide. eat Fluffernutter sandwich. lays potato chips on the side. wait for Skippy the ice cream dude. yell to parent for money. buy a nutty buddy. play with neighbors until dinner. wolf down dinner. play with neighbors till dark. take a bath with Mr. Bubbles. put on Curious George jammies. climb in bed. think weird thoughts. stress out over monsters hiding in my room. call it a night.

now: get up. take medication. take shower. try to remember if I took medication. tell myself to eat a good breakfast. eat nothing. drive the minivan to work. arrive 5 minutes late. walk by the donuts..resolve not to eat one. do some work. talk to some co-workers. go by the donuts. pick one up and eat it.more work. more talk. internal discussion about how eating donuts is BAD BAD BAD!! deliver some mail. swing home for lunch. eat Fluffernutter sandwich.deliver more mail. walk through customer's sprinkler. home for dinner. read mail. read paper.check phone messages. wonder why no one calls. check email. wonder why no one ever emails. kids listen for Skippy. kids say" that guy's a ripoff". take ice cream sandwiches out of the freezer. tell my kids to be in by nine. make blog entry. kids to bed. put on Curious George jammies. think weird thoughts. call it a night.

quote to ponder

word up

heard about this website on the radio.
for those of you that love messing with the english language, you've got to check this out.
http://www.unwords.com/. you can submit words that you know (or have made up), that aren't in the dictionary but should be. they go through a vetting process, and hopefully your word gets added to their dictionary ( it's more like a "fictionary"...hey maybe i should submit that!)
today's submission from yours truly is as follows:

mor-gasm (more-gasm)..the rush one feels when obtaining yet more highly desirable stuff.

i.e. " Suzie was so excited about getting another pair of Gucci sandals on sale, she practically
had a mor-gasm right there at Lord and Taylor".

deeply superficial

i am seriuosly disturbed.this morning i rolled out of bed and hit the bathroom. i am one who needs to read while on the commode and so began perusing our local independent newspaper. i was still half asleep ( not sure if that vindicates me from the sheer pitifulness of this story, but still it's a fact). there was a picture of Mahatma Gandhi. while looking at his weathered face full of beauty and wisdom, I found myself thinking ..you know that furrow line between his brow really doesn't do justice to the peaceful guy that he was...kind of made him look worried or angry... STOP right there!! I've gone too far. What kind of person would project their own issues about aging onto one of the greatest human beings ever to walk the earth? !! I've been reading WAY too many botox ads .
at this point can i even be helped?

end of vacation depression

i've had 10 days off. Ten glorious, fun, productive, relaxing days off.
Tomorrow i return to the Wonderful World of Working Stiffs. My fantasy of being an independently wealthy individual will come to a crashing halt.
i just re-set my alarm for 5:50 am. it's almost enough to make me cry like a goddarn baby. ten days is not enough. Sure, i did get to see a building blow up at Kodak park and I did take my first nap in 10 years, but still didn't get to clean out the dormer..or go to the drive-in.. or ride the jack rabbit..or even lie in my newly acquired hammock. Whaaaaaaaa!
Gotta go . need to put myself in time-out and pull myself together.

Come and Get it !

Available at Seasons of Fairport gift shop.
Also at the Fairport Villiage Coffee and Wine Bar ..on the canal .
More venues coming soon!
Don't feel like cruising around? Email me for direct sales info.

SAVE THE DATE: August 10th 5pm-8pm book signing at Re/Max Gold ..16 Atlantic Ave.
( near the intersection of Atlantic and University Ave.) Retro food, drink, music and fun ! Co-sponsored by The Society for Reluctant Adults.

child..the third

Call it my miracle baby...my post-hysterectomy wonder-child.

Unlike the other two, this baby won't be breastfed for two years, won't need braces or a college fund.
There were no contractions and the delivery was painless.
Today I went to watch the press run for my book.
I was unprepared for the total joy and pride I felt for this little bugger. It was a bliss buzz for sure.
Actually got a little woozy .. felt like I was on the verge of tossing my cookies..in a good way.
We'll have it in our hands by next week. It's so cute..I wanna carry a picture of it in my wallet.
Cool that it came into existence so close to mother's day.

R.A. Issue of the day/ The benefits of wearing adult underoos

You reach a certain age where you can no longer get away with wearing young looking or trendy clothes without appearing pathetic and ridiculous. I've seen it ..and it's rough.
Being a reluctant adult and longing for all things fun and young , I've solved the age inapproriate clothing dilema . On the outside I've pretty much given in to standard 40ish fare..but underneath I've taken to wearing Super Woman underwear on a fairly regular basis. When I find myself in a jam ( like delivering mail in a blinding snowstorm ) they give me a secret kind of strength and belief in my abilities. If you can't posess actual super powers, the next best thing is super undies.

Credentials

I've always been put off by professionals that pile up all the abbreviatons for their credentials behind their name. I guess I can tolerate MD and Esquire..even CSW...or PhD in the right setting..What bothers me is when they use them for other than professional use. Like on personal correspondence . Okay...Dr. Welby, you're off the clock.. can you just be Marcus for the next 5 hours..?
There is an awsome guitar player named Tommy Emmanuel.. after his signature he always puts CGP ( certified guitar player ). For some reason I love that. It gives me pause. Should I do the same ? And if so ..what initials would follow my name? Wendy Lopez-Swiatek CMC ( certified mail carrier) ...Wendy Lopez-Swiatek ABB ( aging baby boomer)..Wendy Lopez-Swiatek PGM (pretty good Mom)? These thoughts came to me just before waking up this morning.. when my mind was still fuzzy enough to be spacey and creative and not make too much sense.
I think I'll change my credentials at will ..but from now on my goal is to always put some kind of arbitrary abbreviation after my name. I'll sign off now. Wendy Lopez-Swiatek GHF ( glass half full).

Repressed memory syndrome/ In your ear

I asked my sister Tracey if she knew any more details about the pearl-up-my-nose incident. She's several years older than me and has much better recall of our early years . She couldn't remember anything other than the fact that it did indeed happen the way I wrote about in my blog. Last night I got a phone message from her . She wondered if I remembered the time I stuck a pencil in my ear and the pink eraser tip broke off and was lodged inside . What was my problem ? Are there other childhood memories involving objects and bodily orifices that I've repressed? I'm afraid to find out.

Up your nose

I'm reading a wonderful memoir ( She Got Up Off the Couch by Haven Kimmel) and in it the author recounts a childhood incident where she got an object lodged up her nostril. Her mother only had three rules of conduct for her to follow. One of them was " Never put anything up your nose". As a parent , I love hearing about things that people remember from childhood regarding parental advice.
What will my kids remember about my words of wisdom? Am I falling down on the job because I never included the nose warning in their set of life instructions?
I don't remember what, if anything, my parents said on that topic..but I do remember getting something seriously stuck in my shnoz.
Back in the 60's there was a commercial for Prell shampoo. Remember Prell ?..it was a really thick and emerald green. I still remember, the smell, the texture.. the shape of the bottle...
In the commercial a woman drops a pearl into the shampoo bottle . The pearl barely moves at all because the stuff is so unbelievably dense. My mom had one of those snap-together pearl necklaces. It was like they specifically designed them so kids could pull them apart and start dropping them into shampoo bottles. Of course, that's what we did. After a while, that got boring so I must've thought it would be interesting to see what would happen if I crammed one up my nose ( gives new meaning to "Pearl Jam" ).
Don't remember much of what happened next.. ( repressed memory syndrome).. except for throbbing pain, intense fear, and the fact that Mom or Dad somehow miraculously retreived the sucker . Maybe using the nose Heimlich manuever? My adult nose is kind of odd looking...wonder if this unfortunate childhood stunt has anything to do with my current dissatisfaction with my nasal appearance?

How far exactly does the apple fall from the tree?

I was looking at some pictures taken during my first hospital stay back in 1994.
Never having had surgery before and fearing hospitals in general i was scared shitless.( so shitless in fact, that i had no need for an enema.)
To cope with the fear of surgery I decided to try and make my hospital stay as fun as possible. I had no bathrobe ( what person under 35 owns a bathrobe ) so when i bought one I went full tilt and bought one that had big old markings on it like a cow costume.
I don't know if most people photo-document their surgical hospital stays ,but I did. In the photos most of my visitors donned the cow bathrobe and posed with me.( I even have a photo of my surgeon wearing it!) My very favorite photograph is the one of my dad wearing the bathrobe but with a bent-up hanger coming out of one of the sleeves where his arm should have been.
He felt I was getting all together too much attention so he decided to get some himself by walking with me around the nurses' station (in the aforementioned outfit)pretending that he was an injured vet that lost a limb in Korea. ( he really was in Korea). I guess i know at least to some degree where my need for attention comes from. Plant corn, get corn...as my friend the school psychologist says.
Two days away from the 11th anniversary of my dad's death and I miss him more than ever.

Random Acts of Immaturity/Spite Singing

OK..so what exactly is Spite Singing, and who invented it?
Contrary to what you might think..it was NOT invented by Sanjaya, although he seems to be a marvelous practioner without even knowing it.
My personal history with S.S. goes back to the early 1960's. I practiced it mostly while doing the dishes with my sister. She'd wash and I'd dry, so she couldn't escape my singing without getting in trouble for not doing her chores. ( A captive audience is a MUST to make this effective...cars are obviously another great venue for S.S.)
There are two strategies that I follow:
1) Pick a song that the person loves and destroy it by singing it as an operetta or lounge act style
2) Pick a song that they find particularily annoying and just sing it ( repeat if necessary).
Here are two real life examples that I love:
1) Someone I know, after having a fight with his wife,goes into another room and whistles the theme from The Loveboat.
2) Some guys that I used to work with used to sing One Million Bottles of Beer on the Wall....." take on down..pass it around..999,999,999 bottles of beer on the wall"..you get the idea.
Some recent examples are singing the Office Depot theme song ad nauseum at work
and a woman I heard of who sings the song from " Annie " ( ' tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow" when turning her husband down for sex. There are no rules. Be creative!

Is there a link between your name and your degree of reluctancy towards adulthood?

What's in a name ?
My brother once broke up with an otherwise compatible girlfriend because he just couldn't stand her name. " What's her name ...I mean how bad can it be..?", I asked my bro.
" Her name is Chantel". "Oh...I see",I said. We both agreed there was no future for this relationship. You can date a Chantel, and even have a very good time with a Chantel...but marry one? No way..especially as my brother noted..there is no good nickname for it. " What am I gonna call her..Channy ?.. Telly? ". NO. She was a thing of the past within weeks.
It got me thinking about my own name and it's relevance in my life.
Let's see...Wendy. A name created by the guy that wrote Peter Pan...the story about NEVER GROWING UP..Hmmmm. Can I blame my disaffection for adulthood , at least in part, on my parents giving me this name? Yes. I can... and I WILL! How immature! Which only goes to prove my point. Wendy isn't a name for an old person..it just isn't. So I have two choices: 1) Die young. No thank you... or 2) Continue to act young even when I'm clearly not.

R.A. guilty retro pleasure of the day

If I read one more article about healthy eating I think I'm going to barf.
I get it, I get it ,I know, I know , I know , I know..Good carbs, not bad carbs, more fruits, more veggies, less saturated everything, more fiber..blahblahblah.
Yesterday I did a quick trip for groceries. Lots of nice normal bland same-old stuff in the cart....like a zombie shopper, I rarely deviate from the list. Then I saw it...seductively beckoning me from the peanut butter aisle...In it's sexy glass jar with the logo that hasn't changed since its inception.. my very first childhood food -crush..... FLUFF. Sometimes you just can't say no to a good old guilty pleasure.

R.A. Issue of the day/Why can't my life be more like a '60's sitcom

WHERE THE HELL IS ALICE ? It's dinner time, and even though it's Taco Tuesday (about as staight forward as meal prep. can get) I am nevertheless lacking the will to cut up the tomatoes, lettuce and onions brown up the beef, crack open the can of black beans and stuff them into their cardboard -stiff little shells. I NEED ALICE..you know Alice..from the Brady Bunch..with the fetching little black maid/chef/gofer outfit and the "can do , Mrs. Brady !" attitude. If my memory serves me, Mrs. Brady didn't do JACK all day !! I'm tired.. I just want to kinda sit back, let the big A take care of dinner and chill until Idol comes on . Is that so WRONG ???

R.A. Issue of the day/ Is being a negative role model better than not being a role model at all?

On St. Patty's eve after downing a few glasses of Bailey's, I decided it would be a good idea to drunk dial/prank phone call a buddy of mine from work. He is totally addicted to the NCAA playoffs so I knew he would be home glued to the tube..I also knew that he would hear my messages as they were being made. How immature to make REPEATED prank calls during his high holy religious event. How REALLY immature to involve my children in this ugly display...i.e. " Check this out you guys !'.
At least I did redeem myself by telling them that drinking is NOT cool, especially when you don't do it well.

Some insight into possible reasons that some people are comfortable in the adult role

I think i had a revelation today...
At work this morning Eddie told me that he has been spreading the word about SRA. Slowly, some of my workmates are hearing about us and wanting to join. Some people even want slogan T-shirts pronouncing their refusal to embrace maturity.

I was telling all of this to my co-worker Carol. After some thought I realized that Carol couldn't join because she seemed to be OK with her adultness. " How come Carol?" I asked her.." how did you get to be like this?".
Turns out that she DID GET A PONY as a child.
I'm on to something BIG here!

reluctant adult issue of the day/working for a living

I returned to work today after three days off . Three days of lying around trying to feel better and watching back episodes of Desperate Ho-wives and the L word. Such drama, such hair, such bodies, such amazing wardrobes..and absolutely no scenes of these babes at work! It sunk into my psyche ...they don't ever work..IT'S NOT FAIR. when i was a kid i thought i'd grow up and sit around in an office and write slogans and jingles like Larry Tate and Darren Stevens. And here I am schleping mail around for a living. I also thought I'd get a pony..but I guess that ain't gonna happen either. damn it.

Reluctant adult issue of the day/ funerals are still creepy

Funerals , wakes, memorial services......I've been to more than i can count. The first person of any importance to me (that i was old enough to comprehend ) that died was my swim coach Bob Hannon. He was a warm and wooly big bear kinda guy. The man was so funny that you could easily imagine him being a drive time morning DJ..with his larger than life personality and booming laugh.
I can't remember what he really did for a living ..might have been a teacher. He was a second dad to everyone on the team. It was 1973. I was thirteen and already obsessed and spooked by the concept of mortality. Mr. Hannon died of a massive heart attack.
After hearing the news I was so upset that I couldn't sleep. My dad tried to comfort me. He was buddies with Mr. Hannon and needed to process this whole thing himself. Dad talked to me about fear ..about how he tried to deal with it in his own life. He was right there for me..even though talking about stuff was not easy for him. I decided that I could not handle going to the funeral. Most of the kids from the team went. I was embarrased that I wasn't strong enouhg to go.
Today I am going to a memorial service. I've got to admit..that while I no longer avoid going..the 13 year old frightened kid also attends