Closure

Did you miss me?

I thought I'd give the keyboard a rest for a couple days while I prepared for my trip to Nashville, which is where I currently sit, reflecting on a successful completion of NaBloPoMo 2009. I believe Bridget's assertion that National Blog Posting Month is technically in November every year.  I feel quite left out that I'm not participating along with the masses, but I was craving the challenge in October and knew with certainty that I could not logistically post every day in November.  But most of all, I think trying NaBloPoMo in different months of the year offers new ideas for subject matter and makes the daily posting just a little easier. Maybe.

Somehow NaBloPoMo seemed a little easier this year than last. I didn't spend nearly as many hours wondering "what in tarnation am I going to write about today?" (probably because all the ideas have been building up over the months of limited blogging).  I resorted to centering a post on non-original material only once (but at least people seemed to enjoy it).  Twice my choice of subject was an even poorer excuse for a post (however babysitting and overseas visitors would otherwise be excellent excuses not to post). 

Daily blogging became the catalyst to reintroduce Flashback Friday, which I almost always have a lot of fun writing.  This month we got a total of five flashbacks!  One from elementary school, one from junior high, two from high school, and one from recent years, unwittingly even presented in that order.  First I explained two separate instances where Popularity was stripped from my grasp, then revisited a very odd trip to Eugene with my friend for a vocal competition, and rounded out the flashbacks with two costume-related memories.  There were two other Halloween-related posts: a look at the Goodwill waxing a bit sociological, and a look at homemade spooky goodies waxing a bit domesticated.  Of course, my two sixlists were basically flashbacks as well, remembering inspirational childhood movies and forgettable fads.

This month we all got to know a little more about some of Kristen's favorite things--betcha didn't know I love Big Macs and Disney movies. Now, appreciating great deals on used stuff isn't too weird, but maybe you're right that my infatuation with Gmail is a bit unorthodox.  I'll make no apologies for my Simpsons obsession though, and along with that post, my run-in with the psychotic job-hunter joined ranks among my all-time favorite posts.  A couple of other favorites this month were short and sweet: a photo of tiny white bums; a child's quotable quip.  

I can't believe only a month has passed since I shared my bewilderment witnessing a girl left alone on the swings.  As you can see, so much has been written here since then, yet a few questions remain unanswered; a few stories beg for closure.  First of all, the wretched forehead atrocity took nearly two and a half weeks to clear up (salvation discovered in cute hats and long bangs), but lamentably reappeared after I got my eyebrows waxed at a salon a few days ago in preparation for this trip.  So now I have a big zitty forehead again at a very inopportune time (not like there's ever an opportune time for zits, but there are times when less photographs will be taken and when I wouldn't have to face people I only see one or two times a year with a pink galaxy all over my stupid ugly face!).  Ahem.  Also, remember the Roasted Chestnut that I left on my hair for three times the recommended brewing time while I wrote all about my unintended reaction to the waxing and facial cleanser combination? It did turn out a little more like Burnt-to-a-Crisp Chestnut. Darker than planned, but my hair doesn't look too horrible.  Just my face.

Also, I met the author of The Familiar Stranger at our book club meeting. She is really funny and sweet, and we had a great discussion about her choices in incorporating the Christian message and focusing on that audience, etc.  It was a very interesting chat and Christina Berry was very open, honest, and down-to-earth.  I know I joked around a bit about all the praying and forgiveness in her book, but I want to reiterate that I did enjoy the story very much.

After using my Nike+ iPod sensor for a few more weeks, I have three tidbits to add to my review: 1) I miss being able to use the Lap function that was on my iPod's regular menu, which can't be accessed while using the Nike+ sensor.  With the push of a button I could record a lap, or a mile, or a kilometer, and view/save the pace for that lap.  This was very helpful in analyzing race times, and I wish it was available with the Nike Plus.  2) On a related note, there is no way to view my average pace during a run. Nike+ shows me my current pace (again, I don't know how long the lag time on measuring that is), but I can't tell how I'm matching a goal pace over a long distance.  3) The distances my Nike+ sensor was measuring seemed to be incredibly close to what satellite maps show, but on some recent longer routes, the sensor appeared to be around a half mile off! My assumption is that as my speed and stride improve, re-calibration is necessary.

Also on the running front, I wanted to let you know that those huge, odd "running gloves" shrunk in the wash so now they fit, and they are actually really soft and warm. So although I'm still baffled as to why they are classified as running gloves, they will keep my hands warm if I choose to wear them while running. I knew that dilemma was probably eating you up inside all this time.

We haven't made any move toward converting to a toddler bed. It's not a priority.  We may try having Madelyn sleep on the pull-out bed in our suite in Vegas later this month, which may offer some insight on how she'd do in a bed without railings at home.  It might present a very smooth opportunity for the transition. But I haven't even mentioned the idea to Gary, so we'll see.

My other kids, Loki and Kezia, are just fine after eating 2.5 packages of energy/electrolyte chews.  So you can stop worrying about that.  And also my good buddy Daphne picked up some more for me so I had a pack of Black Cherry for Run Like Hell.  Thank goodness.

Remember the bag of crappy toys I collected for my Moms Club's toy swap?  Yes, other people brought toys, but they were placed in the other room where the kids were playing, so no one had to see me sheepishly set my pathetic contribution among them.  I did not feel we deserved to take any toys from the swap, and hadn't planned on receiving any.  But after the meeting a friend made a last call for the leftover toys, and nearly everyone was gone.  I found the most adorable set of soft dinosaur bowling pins and balls that look brand new. No one wanted them. So they came home with me. Score. Or should I say, "strike!" Sorry, that was really lame.  Here is Madelyn cradling one of the dinos she prefers as a doll when we were incidentally at an actual bowling alley.

I thought of another drawback to my recent weight loss: my wedding ring spins around on my finger and the feel of the diamond between my ring finger and pinkie is very annoying to me. I have to take it off while typing. Not sure I can or should get it re-sized, because my knuckle hasn't shrunk...

After all this wonderfully entertaining writing, can you believe I didn't gain ONE SINGLE NEW FOLLOWER? Sigh. Guess I know who my real friends are. Just kidding. Rather, I guess my friends don't take too kindly to pathetic begging for approval.  Even if you're not willing to admit publicly that you read my blog, I know you are out there and I appreciate the verbal and email comments too.

Thanks for reading! I'll try to keep up a good momentum for a little while, and there will always be NaBloPoMo 2010 to get me back on track.  Perhaps I'll do September next year...I see a pattern emerging from my rogue blogging ways.

My plate is full (of Halloween goodness)

Not that daily blogging would ever be a breeze for me, but had there been a way for me to know one of my key employees would quit this month, I doubt I would have taken on the challenge of NaBloPoMo.  The hiring process and hours of training each week in addition to my regular workload complicated the whole ordeal.  Of course, I seem to lack the ability to monitor and limit my commitments anyway, so maybe having that advance perspective I wished for would not have affected my decision to commit to NaBloPoMo during a very busy October.

While I am pleased with the results of Blog-fest 2009, I am very glad it is nearly complete.  In addition to everything else going on this month, I decided a few weeks ago to plan a Trick or Treat party for our friends and their kids (tonight). And I had already committed to host a Halloween lunch gathering on the 30th (yesterday). So the last two days I have spent cooking, cleaning, decorating, doing dishes, and more cooking to prepare for two consecutive Halloween parties at my house.  Granted, my vision for a casual party tonight with a few friends escalated into a full-blown party with over 40 confirmed attending (I figured a lot more people would have other plans on Halloween).  I'm completely thrilled that so many people want to spend the festive evening with us, and I love throwing parties.  It's just a little bigger than I originally anticipated. Oh, and I'm leaving town on a business trip in 3 days, which means on top of everything I have to do all the usual pre-travel preparations, packing, and tying up of loose ends at home and work.  But the going away after it all is worth having a very full plate!

Mine wasn't the only full plate this Halloween. Check out the festive and spooky dishes I served to guests of my two Halloween parties this weekend:

Mummified pizza wrap

Coordinating mini-mummies

Pumpkin cheese ball

Halloween swamp dip with crispy bat wings

Cheesy ghosts

Crunchy bugs

Frozen gummy worms for ice water

Bet you didn't even know what a veritable Martha I am. I discovered a quandary tonight to keep in mind for future parties, however.  I chose 6:30 as the start time for this party specifically to avoid conflicting with family dinner times.  But guests were encouraged to each bring a Halloween-themed appetizer or dessert to share.  The result of these two provisions was three countertops loaded with platters, bowls, and plates of food, and lots of guests who just weren't that hungry.  So I begin to think that in the future, for a party where food will be plentiful, I should go ahead and schedule it earlier, so people will come hungry and eat more.  But that's a tough call, because by scheduling an hors d'oeuvres party earlier, I run the risk of people expecting a full meal and then running out of food with hungry guests.  Most of my friends escaped from my house before I could thrust leftovers upon them, so I was left with a ridiculous abundance of food. I feel terrible that I ended up throwing quite a bit away, because I don't have room for and won't be able to eat it all.  It's just impossible to predict these kinds of things I guess.  But it seems like everyone had a pretty good time, in spite of the mass chaos that 27 adults and 22 children can create in an enclosed space.

Hope you had a SUPER Halloween!

Flashback Friday: Fear is not a factor

On this Halloween-Eve edition of Flashback Friday, I'd like to tell you about one of my favorite past Halloween costumes.

A few years ago I entertained a short-lived obsession with the television show Fear Factor.  I watched all the syndicated episodes on TiVo, and loved every thrilling minute.  The adventure stunts are so creative and often involve meticulous execution of details. Fear Factor is most often recognized for making contestants eat coagulated blood balls or lie covered in African cave-dwelling spiders, but I always appreciated the extreme feats more than the grossies.  Inexplicably, I even had a little crush on the not-extremely-attractive host Joe Rogan.

But even more mind-boggling is the fact that I legitimately contemplated submitting an application to be a contestant on the show.  I actually printed out the paperwork from nbc.com and began brainstorming ideas for my audition video before I realized that my well-developed fear of falling might give reason for pause.  There are certain types of stunts I think I would skillfully complete and even enjoy in an adrenaline-junkie sort of way.  But as much as I want to believe I would be tough enough to leap from the top of one speeding gas tanker to another, I wonder if any amount of safety harness and helmet could make me to do it.  I nearly freaked out at the top of the New York New York coaster in Vegas, so I really don't know what I was thinking.

Accepting that I would be unable to select cool stunts over truly terrifying ones was only part of the cause for my ultimate verdict against applying.  The other element of import was the realization that I didn't have "the look" for Fear Factor.  Not tan enough, not thin enough, boobs not big enough. I decided to remain content watching the bikini babes and muscle men perform stunts like these from behind the comfort of my remote control:

I was, however, able to live a little piece of my dream on Halloween that year when I chose to masquerade as a Fear Factor contestant. I dressed in the show's black and yellow motif (how lucky to find that sports bra at Goodwill!), attached spiders, mice, and snakes to my clothes and hair, and even printed the Fear Factor logo on my homemade pennant flags--just like the ones contestants often have to collect or transfer as part of various formidable challenges. To complete the look, I showed plenty of skin (like a true FF contestant), including inflatable chest-pieces for maximum accuracy.

I wore this getup to work out at my Curves club, which is where this indelicate photograph was taken.  Considering I would have probably been the one crying like a little girl and demanding to get off whatever contraption from which I was pathetically dangling, I'd venture to say that I had more fun dressing up as a Fear Factor contestant than I would have had actually being one.

Dear Big Carl,

You are not a Big Mac.

Your commercials claiming to be a far superior version of the beloved Big Mac piqued my curiosity. After all, why is there an extra piece of bread in the middle of the Mac? So when I was in need of lunch and passed by Carl's Jr. this afternoon, I decided to put your assertions to the test. My taste test.

Here's the thing. You can't just copy the special sauce and compare yourself to a Big Mac. I get it. You have a lot more meat. Guess what? In my book it's actually better to minimize the amount of fast food beef I consume. All that cow was too much for me: the taste of greasy beef overpowered every bite.

And on a Big Mac, the finely shredded lettuce has a way of achieving unity with globs of Special Sauce in a way that is simply impossible for two ginormous pieces of thick, crunchy iceberg.

Mostly though, Big Carl, how can you even align yourself with the Big Mac when there is nary a pickle to be found between your measly two buns?

I regret to inform you that I will continue to satisfy my occasional Mac-related hankerings by hitting the McDonald's drive-thru. I'll pay the extra dollar because I will be able to finish more than half of the sandwich  (of course one full Big Mac is about equal in calories to just half of a Big Carl, so it's best all that beefiness grossed me out partway through). As an added benefit, McDonald's offers a huge variety of options to feed my daughter, many of them relatively healthy, compared to the chicken strips on your menu--which appeared to be the only item at least somewhat geared toward the younger palate and inferior dexterity of a child.

In closing, thank you for creating the opportunity to discover the true reason for Big Mac's bun number three.  That extra piece of plain bread in the middle of a double burger (inferior in total weight as it may be) serves to effectively mask the flavor of pre-formed beef patties (don't think that just because your patties have neat little bumpy edges I can't tell that they are shaped that way from a mold).  Because of that third bun, the Special Sauce, American cheese, and pickles really shine through.

Sincerely,

Medium-sized Kristen

Six fads frozen in time

Allow me to explain why my title is not redundant. Yes, a fad is generally defined as a short-lived craze, but consider that many trends experience a distinct spike in popularity followed by decline, but maintain a continued presence on a much smaller scale in popular culture or daily life, as applicable.  New technology in particular has a way of seeming faddish at first, but as its use becomes more prevalent, the object in question becomes commonplace.

The other day I drove by a man walking a black Scottish Terrier.  I don't see this breed around much for some reason, and the moment I saw it, my mind flashed immediately to the old sweatshirts that filled my closet (as well as those of my sister and mother) featuring two Scottie Dogs facing each other and usually some argyle or hearts to complete the look.  A vision of this dog brought me back to that distinct period of style, and was the inspiration for this post as I recalled various specific objects that enjoyed their 15 minutes of fame during my youth and then have scarce to be heard from since. Many fads come and go within a category, for example nobody wears Lee jeans anymore, but we still wear jeans.  And the really big Hollywood-style sunglasses will surely start to be uncool at some point, but I don't predict that sunglasses themselves will go out of fashion.  Some (but not all) of the items on my list are objects which have nearly ceased to exist since the end of their reign, and therefore create a very strong connection with their period of popularity. I'll tell you mine, and you tell me yours!

1) Puffy Paint Couture. If the dogs on the aforementioned sweatshirts weren't puffy-painted, then you'd better believe there were sweatshirts with ironed-on kitties and Christmas wreaths nearby that were.  Okay, I've seen puff paints used in crafts on occasion, but they aren't the fashion statement they once were.

2) Troll dolls. I had myself a hefty collection of these. I never really played with them, just owned them.

3) Slap bracelets. I remember coveting all varieties of these bracelets in precisely 5th grade. Shiny, fuzzy, tie-dyed, you name it.

4) MAGIC cards. I never actually played with these myself, I swear. I wouldn't be able to tell you the difference between the planes of Shadowmoor and Lorwyn (just looked that up on a website, ha ha).  But I do remember hordes of boys hovering around them at the cafeteria tables in junior high, followed by much smaller groups of late-blooming boys huddled around them at the cafeteria tables in high school.

5) Pogs. What were these things exactly? I just remember them being all the rage for a while. Apparently we kids were tricked into obsessing over cardboard discs with printed images. Some of them were sparkly though!

 

6) Scrunchies. The staple hair (and wrist) accessory of the mid-nineties. And then they simply disappeared without a trace.  Conspiracy? Perhaps.

So what nearly-forgotten objects hold the power to transport you to distinct memories of their era? 

Goodwill treat, or trick?

Since last year was Madelyn's first walking Halloween, she needed a candy bucket. I sent my husband on the mission to find one for her at Goodwill in mid-October. I wanted a vintage-style plastic jack-o-lantern, like the kind I used as a kid. The one Gary purchased is much bigger than I had hoped for (since Madelyn was quite small), but he reported that there was not nearly the selection of plastic pumpkin candy buckets at Goodwill that I had confidently assured him there would be. So in light of that, this pumpkin was perfect.

Madelyn~October 2008~ready to get some candy

I'll have to explain her "costume" later this week

When I pulled out the Halloween decorations earlier this month, Madelyn discovered the jack-o-lantern bucket among them. My daughter is very fond of totes. She has a variety of purses, bags, baskets, buckets, and boxes that she will use for varying intervals to store and carry her "treasures." At any given time her preferred tote might contain a small stuffed animal, a set of alphabet flash cards, a ladybug ring, an acorn, or really anything small enough to fit inside that she deems of interest. It is adorable. So some days this month we've gone to a store or restaurant with a giant orange pumpkin in tow.

Last week I happened to notice the stickers on the bottom of our pumpkin bucket.

The sticker on the left is the label from the original store where this bucket was purchased (I think Target), before eventually being cast away to Goodwill, and then purchased by us. That price tag says $0.79. The Goodwill price tag on the right says $1.99. We are suckers.

Okay, so the buck and twenty cents more that we paid is not the issue here. $1.99 is a fair price for a classic jack-o-lantern bucket. I'm not complaining about the cost, but I find this comical. The original price is right there on the item, but the person at Goodwill labeling it didn't either consider setting the price to reflect the original new-item cost, or at least scrape off the sticker to avoid any potential customer agitation.

This scenario reminded me of my distaste for Goodwill. The fact is, they are by far the easiest place to donate unwanted goods. But most unwanted goods would serve a much better purpose being donated to a truly worthy cause such as a shelter or community outreach program. Whenever possible, I prefer to donate to these organizations, because I know that the items will be given for free to people genuinely in need.

Goodwill, on the other hand, accepts your castoffs at zero cost-of-goods, and re-sells them for a profit. Don't let that non-profit status fool you. While Goodwill Industries does utilize a large percentage of income to provide employment assistance and training, there are also a lot of people making a lot of money. Non-profits' income simply must be dispersed at the end of each fiscal year, and that isn't difficult to do. For example, after coming under the attorney general's scrutiny in 2005, the president of the Portland-area Goodwill chapter agreed to a 24% salary reduction from his 2004 earnings of $838,508.

All from those $5.99 shirts and $1.99 pumpkin buckets that Goodwill gets for free.

Everyone has a right to make money, and I am a proponent of the free market. I don't boycott Goodwill, but I think their non-profit status is a little hokey. Sometimes, like most people, I just need a quick way to get rid of some old stuff, and Goodwill has that figured out. Today, I went to Goodwill looking for a couple of items to create an acceptable Halloween "costume" for my Bah Humbug hubby to wear at our party this weekend. And I couldn't help but notice that amidst the piles and racks of junk, there were some really great "treasures" at excellent prices.

So Goodwill really has us in its grasp: they make donating SO easy, and--in spite of some pricing snafoos such as my pumpkin's 250% mark-up--sell decent stuff at reasonable prices if you can find what you're looking for. All that is required to shop there is PATIENCE and an impervious sense of smell (or a nose plug--it always smells so weird in there!)

Worlds of Fantasy

While I make no apologies for my objections to clothing and other paraphernalia branded with television and movie characters the likes of Dora, SpongeBob, and Tinkerbell, it would be deceitful for me not to admit that certain characters themselves I find endearing. A quick mental categorization between the charming and irritating indicates a strong personal preference toward those characters that influenced my own childhood and have remained popular because of a sort of "classic" status. That rule is not all-encompassing however. I really like the little Canadian boy named Caillou on PBS kids/Sprout who stars in what used to be practically the only TV show my daughter would watch. And just because I played with Barbies and Strawberry Shortcake as a child does not automatically make me a fan of their new singing and dancing DVD series'. So there are definitely exceptions.

When Disney reintroduced the concept of the animated feature film with The Little Mermaid in 1989, I was at the impressionable age of eight, and I still count this movie among my absolute favorites. In the years that followed, my parents' garage, when empty, became my undersea fantasyland. I would strap on rollerskates and circle the garage singing "Part of Your World." I felt as graceful as a mermaid, but probably looked as awkward as a lobster.

At one- to two-year intervals Disney released another amazing cartoon adventure, and for a while there it seemed that each one was better than the last. Then they reached Pocahontas, and well, they can't all be winners. For me, it was downhill from there, but perhaps that has more to do with my own growing up that paralleled the progression.

For the most part, I appreciate each of the classic Disney princess movies, but this whole Disney Princesses as an enterprise of its own turns me off. As Madelyn is old enough to choose what she likes and wants to obsess about, I'll work to keep my aversions under control and allow her an appropriate amount of freedom to identify with characters if she so chooses. But for now, we just steer clear of commercialized toys, books, and et cetera that would create a premature longing.

All this introduction culminates here: we went to see Disney on Ice~Worlds of Fantasy on Saturday. I was unsure of the extent to which Madelyn would enjoy it. First of all, the showing we could attend started at 7pm, nearly her bedtime. Also, due more to her short attention span than any self-righteous purpose, we haven't introduced Madelyn to Disney movies, so I knew she wouldn't recognize Ariel, Sebastian, Simba, and Scar. And lastly, while I am deeply fascinated and awestruck by the athletic art of figure skating, I was quite sure that Madelyn would not be able to appreciate the incredible skills demonstrated on the ice.

But Madelyn's newest favorite show (replacing Caillou) is Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Incidentally, I have mixed feelings about that show: the characters are the classic Disney mice, ducks, and...dog(?) we all know and love, but the new-fangled digital animation bugs me. I know, I am weird. But at least I've set my crazy opinions aside in this case and let Madelyn watch this relatively innocuous and fairly educational show. I happen to find the theme song kind of cute, and I love that the fun "Hot Dog song" featured at the end of every episode is written and performed by They Might be Giants, a mainstream alternative rock band. But I digress. Because of this current fixation with Mickey and friends, we opted to take advantage for the opportunity for a fun family night out.

Madelyn fared well under the circumstances, but her mother, on the other hand, was enthralled. I LOVE watching ice dancing and fantasized about being a figure skater in my youth. I realize that I don't think I've ever seen skating like this in person, only on TV. So I was enthralled by the performances, and to make the deal even sweeter, two of the featured stories were from my two all-time favorite Disney movies: The Little Mermaid and The Lion King.

My interest began to wane along with Madelyn's toward the end, however, as I'm not very familiar with the new Tinkerbell movie. The skating was still interesting, but one drawback of the excellent seats Gary got us is that it was easy to see the faces of performers who looked bored or broke character when they passed each other and laughed. I know that performing the same routine night after night, month after month, can grow mundane. But seriously people, you get to travel the country dancing on ice skates. This is probably what you dreamed about as a child, so enjoy it! Most people's jobs are significantly less interesting than yours.

I am so glad that we went to this show. The skating was captivating and the flood of warm childhood memories welcome. Madelyn might not fully appreciate everything that she saw, but she was mostly entertained, and rotated between Mom, Dad, and Grandma's laps munching the Kettle Corn we snuck inside. Indisputably, her favorite parts were the little breaks when Mickey, Minnie, Donald, and Goofy graced the floor, and also when bubbles floated down from the ceiling. Enjoy a few photos, if you will.

Who knew mermaids could do the splits?

This is ME in my garage on rollerskates.

We did have really great seats, but some of these close-ups are courtesy of my amazing new camera.

The entire 'Little Mermaid' portion was the highlight for me.

Simba's a little washed out, but marvel at my shutter-click timing!

I nearly don't believe it myself, but Pumbaa appeared to be portrayed by one skater with his or her hands wearing skates in the front. It was the weirdest thing to watch and imagine trying to do.

As much as I love 'The Lion King,' the lions on their hind legs in bodysuits was a bit strange. I was able to look past it for the most part.