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Archive for the ‘Just W’ Category

Thank you, Mother Nature and Samuel & Colonel David N. Foster

I’m not someone you would call outdoorsy, not by a long shot, but I do like to play outside. I like to walk my dog and ride my bike and roller blade (with protective gear covering most of my accident-prone self) and sit on my porch swing and daydream in my hammock, and all of those activities generally happen outside. But the weather really dictates whether it’s a fun time. I don’t like heat and I really, really hate humidity. Humidity is my kryptonite. (Spellcheck doesn’t know “kryptonite”. WTAF?)  And we have had an oppressively hot summer, and it has totally ruined my outdoor playtime. Until last week, when Mother Nature took pity on me.

[Side note: I know some people love hot weather. There’s no need for you to argue with me about it. It’s just like being a morning versus a night person; neither is wrong. Although I could argue that when it’s cold you can always put on another blanket, but when it’s too hot you can’t take anything else off. I break into a sweat when the snow melts. I blame my dad. He is nodding along as he’s reading this, whereas my mother is putting on a sweater.]

Anyway, as I was saying, Mother Nature finally gave us a break. The last week or so has been freakin’ beautiful. Cooler. Comfortable. Some days, we’ve even had low humidity. I’ve had my air conditioning off for over a week now. In AUGUST. It’s fabulous.

Who can be expected to work on such a beautiful morning?

Friday I played a little hooky and went to revel in the glorious morning by taking a walk around Foster Park. I’ve been hiding out for months in climate-controlled comfort and had almost forgotten how much I love it there; it might be my favorite place in Fort Wayne.

It could be a country club, with its manicured golf course and impeccable, gorgeous flowerbeds, but instead it’s a public park, smack dab in the middle of the city. It’s vast. The golf course is surrounded by a 2.2-mile loop. There are playgrounds. Baseball diamonds. Tennis courts. Trails along the river. The bridal glen, where my aunt and uncle (and lots of other people, I presume) got married.  It connects to (and is part of) the River Greenway. There are pavilions for rent. There’s Pawster Park, for our canine companions. And it’s all thanks to the Fosters.


My dad comments from time to time about the foresight the Foster families had to preserve this kind of green space in a growing urban environment. A hundred years ago they donated over one hundred acres. (It’s even bigger thanks to additional purchases by the City.) That’s pretty badass, to make a gift of that magnitude. Imagine if someone did something like that today (ahem, Omnisource property, cough cough).

The park is one of the most ethnically diverse places in the community. It’s also one of the friendliest. During my loop last week almost every person I passed waved, smiled, nodded, said “hi” or “good morning” or “how’s it going”, despite my sunglasses and headphones. (Those are universal shields, right?)  I love it. Love. It.  On a nice weekend in the summer, it’s teeming with people. In the winter there are far fewer, but the camaraderie might be even stronger; it’s like a small band of winter weather warriors, united in our quest to circle the park even when it’s frigid.

Off-roading by the river

My affection for Foster Park goes way back. My family cross-country skied there when I was a kid. The circuit is convenient for walking (or running, I assume, but with no bears to chase me there is no need). The wide path with no motor vehicles makes me feel safe on my skates. And as previously mentioned, it’s beautiful. With my last dog, I tried hitting all the parks in the city for our excursions, but Foster was always the best for a good trek (although she loved Franke Park, too). When I was looking for my house a few years ago, I limited my search to the south side because I’ve always wanted to live near the park.  So it was a joy to rediscover my joy when the heat finally broke, and a reminder to take advantage of it more often.

Good news: the forecast this week is for mostly sunny, mild temps, with a high probability of walks in the park.

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Home, Just W

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Warrior II

One hand in the past.

One hand in the future.

Most of us (the heart, the mind) in the present.

Libby, my yoga teacher said this not too long ago while we were in Warrior II pose. For those of you not familiar with the pose, your arms are extended with one hand ahead of you and one behind. (Don’t worry, I’ll illustrate it for you in a minute.) And even though I’d done Warrior II a jillion times before, I’d never heard Libby interpret it quite like that before, and that night it really resonated with me.

I have spent large chunks of my life not so much in the present. I live in my head a lot: I’m a daydreamer, and a processor. I love anticipation. If something fun were coming up, I would wait impatiently for it to get here already. I also can be a fretter, and sometimes dwell on what just happened, both negatively and positively. I’ve been known to mull over a past conversation for way too long, analyzing what I said, what you said, what I should have said, how I wished I’d said it. I also might replay a particularly special time over and over again, trying to be in that moment.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with what I just described, in moderation. But there have been times in my life when the dwelling in the past or twitching about waiting for what was yet to be were overshadowing what was actually happening right here, right now. (Cue Jesus Jones.) What struck me during my yoga class was that I don’t really do a whole lot of any of either anymore. I’m much more in the present than I ever have been; it’s very strange, but good. I’m not used to getting into bed at night and not fretting over something or wishing for something to come, or daydreaming into a different place. I get in bed, and I go to sleep; what’s up with that? I can only assume that it’s because I really like where I am right now. For the last 8 or 10 months, I’ve been pretty content. It’s not as though I never worry about things anymore, or eagerly look forward to fun with friends, but everything is more balanced.

I am more balanced.

I am Warrior II.

And for those of you not familiar with the yoga pose, I tried and tried and tried to find a picture to show you, but I feel very strongly about not misusing someone else’s images, and I couldn’t find anything. So I drew you a picture. For those of you who don’t know me well, this is kind of astonishing. Let’s begin with my complete lack of artistic talent, then add in the fact that I’m left-handed but mouse with my right hand, and I think you’ll agree that this is a mind-blowing accomplishment. And is cracking my shit up.  Really, the entire reason for the post is so I can show you my awesome stick figure yoga illustration. 🙂

She looks just like me, don’t you think?

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Just W

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Clip this!

 

Soooooooooo some of you may have heard me whine over the last four years that my ex-husband kept all the good chip clips when we got divorced. I fully recognize that this is a completely silly thing to be bent out of shape over.  But if you’ve ever been through your own, you know that divorce brings out the stupid. And ps, he could have let me have a few of them! Every time I dig out one of my shitty plastic clips, I get a little pissed off.

Guess what? I bought my own today. Woot!

 

 

I’m not sure what took me so long – probably just never wandered through the right spot in Meijer before. But I finally decided to buy a cheese grater, since I am  surprised every time I go looking for one and realize I don’t have one of those, either.  You should totally be allowed to register when you get divorced and lose half your crap. I wish I had thought this up four years ago, but for anyone getting divorced now or in the future, please try it – I will back you up! 🙂

 
Now….I have to go find something in the kitchen to open, so I can clip it back shut again. 🙂

 

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Home, Humor, Just W, Relationships

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I love the internet.

I totally didn’t get it at first, back in the day. Like, not at all. Ok, so you could look stuff up. Big whoop. I remember the very first time I got onilne. That awful screeching sound of the modem – ah, kids, remember dial-up? AOL telling me I’ve got mail. And the WORLD WIDE WEB. Oooooooh. What should I search for? How about…..Muppets! Yep, my very first internet search ever was “Muppets”. (This is probably a huge surprise for exactly none of you, if you are friends with me on Facebook. I probably average at least one Muppet-related post/week.)

Ok, so it’s 1994, I’m checking out this new internet thing, I look up “Muppets” and I find some random pictures of Kermit et al. Um. Not seeing the point of this. Why do I need to be able to find Muppet pictures at the drop of hat? (Duh, to post them on Facebook, which hadn’t been invented yet.) I was not getting it at all.

Slowly, over time, I caught on – like the rest of the world. Big time. I remember getting DSL and being able to quickly and easily look up movie times. Which again, wasn’t research to cure brain cancer, or, you know, something important, but at least I was starting to find practical applications.

Now I have FIOS and WIFI and a smartphone and an iPad and I am plugged the fuck in. Unplugging causes severe anxiety. And I’m still not using the internet to bring about world peace, but it has completely changed the landscape of my professional world, so it’s gone well beyond just fun and games and Muppets into the practical and everyday. Plus, you can look up song lyrics and movie quotes in the blink of an eye. Totally rad.

The other day, though I found myself in a momentary panic and the accessibility of reliable information in that same blink of the eye was just what I needed. It wasn’t an end of the world kind of panic, but I discovered that I had missed a birth control pill (FUCK), and I needed to know what to do. I have been on the pill for most of the last 20 years, and I can count on one finger the number of times this has happened before this week. I can be absent-minded and forgetful. I can forget to pick up dry cleaning for weeks. I forget where I’ve set my phone down in my own house on a daily basis. Hell, I can’t even get into a daily routine to take vitamins, even when taking other daily pills, like, say, the one we’re discussing. But I never, never miss my pill. Perhaps because I realize just how important is. And because I’ve been taking it for so long, and I’m so good about taking it, I routinely throw away the information that comes with it when I pick up the prescription. So even though I was pretty sure I knew what to do about the missed pill, I didn’t actually have official documentation.

God bless the internet.

“Sprintec missed pill”  <enter>

(Yes, now you know which pill I’m on, don’t you feel closer to me?)

Poof!

Page after page of specific info, from the manufacturer, doctors, everyday users. All giving me the information I needed, in the blink of an eye.

Thank you, Internet, I needed that. 🙂

Take the pill as soon as you notice, by the way. Even if it means taking two at a time. If you only miss one, you should be ok. Please don’t ever, ever, ever make any decisions based on what I just said – it is totally not my fault if you get knocked up, ok? Google it for yourself, go to some official website to seek your family planning advice. The internet is there for you, too.

This should again come as no surprise, but I just found approximately eight million Muppet pictures I want to include in this post. I was so stupid in 1994; how could I not see the value in this?

I’m done now.  Peace out.

Postscript? Update? One more thought, after the fact…..kind of cracking me up to have used the internet to bring birth control pills and the Muppets together into one semi-cohesive blog post. Hee hee.

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Humor, Just W

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DVRrrgh

I need to stop recording movies on my DVR. I have a bad habit of filling it up with films I heard were good, maybe remember a review of from Entertainment Weekly, wanted to see but missed in the theater, used to own on DVD but lost in the Great War (AKA my divorce, which was actually pretty amicable, but it’s funnier to call it that) and I want to watch again, etc. My DVR is never less than 50% full and usually hovers closer to 70%. This causes me anxiety, because I also have a regular crop of TV shows set to record, and it’s not unusual for it (the DVR) to caution me that it’s going to max out.

Here’s the thing. I’m really good at recording movies. And terrible about watching them. Every few months I go through and delete some things that have been sitting the longest and clearly are never going to be watched. We just passed the one-year anniversary of the oldest recording parked there, “Man on Wire”, a jaw-dropping, fascinating Oscar-winning documentary – so says the DVR menu. I really want to see it. Apparently not enough to push play. Maybe I should watch it right now. It’s only 100 minutes long. I could totally stay awake for that. It’s one of seven movies hanging out. This morning there were nine. I was contemplating a nap this afternoon, and decided to watch a movie from my backlog instead. I picked “The Tourist”.

I had low expectations, even though it stars my boyfriend, Johnny Depp; I knew it wasn’t supposed to be particularly worthwhile. Also, I’m not really much of an Angelina Jolie fan. Sadly, my expectations were not low enough. It didn’t feel suspenseful. It didn’t feel like a fun caper. It just felt like a waste of time. The logical question is why did I record it in the first place, right? Um, did I mention Johnny Depp?

Unfortunately, I feel an irrational sense of failure if I don’t see a movie through to the end. It’s not as though I never turn away from one, but I feel like after I’ve invested a certain amount of time, I might as well find out what happens. The notable exception to this is “Napoleon Dynamite”. I tried. I really did. I wanted to know what the big deal was. But after 20 minutes or so, I decided life is too short, and I turned it off. Sadly, I did not have the same epiphany during “The Hangover”. I kept thinking it would have to get funny, since everyone in the entire world other than Sunshine and my dad think it’s the most hilarious thing since sliced bread. Wait. Sliced bread isn’t actually funny. I might’ve gotten that wrong. Regardless, watching “The Hangover” made me want to poke out my own eyes.

My low-key afternoon transitioned into a lazy evening. Ruby Dogwonkafonka and I were camped out on the couch, ready to watch another movie. This time we chose “Tiny Furniture”, a low-budget indie film about a recent college grad who returns home while she tries to figure out what to do with her life. I went to IMDB to get a little synopsis for y’all, and even IMDB can’t tell me if it was a comedy or a drama. Not that that’s a bad thing, most of my favorite movies are a mix of both. This, however, is not one of my new favorites. Mostly, I kept thinking about how much I wanted to punch each and every character. At some point something has to happen or someone has to be likable for me to, you know, enjoy it. Damn my obsessive need to watch till the end. Many people on Rotten Tomatoes seem to have enjoyed it, but I am not joining their ranks.

So I also have “Religulous” and “Capitalism: A Love Story” in the queue. Anybody want to talk me into or out of watching either of those?

PS, I wrote this last night but didn’t post it till now, so please pretend my todays and tonights and tenses and stuff make sense, k? Yeah, thanks. 🙂

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Humor, Just W

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My shameful confession

I’m about to tell you something shocking.

I made brownies from a box. 

I’m not sure you understand how unusual this is.

I grew up in a house where everything was made from scratch. My mom has been known to make homemade green bean casserole, down to her own crispy onion things (which is good, but tastes nothing like the mushy goodness of Green Bean Casserole). I’ve known how to make my own brownies for as long as I can remember. And cookies. And cakes. I like to cook, but I’ve always loved baking. I don’t do anything fancy and presentation isn’t my strength, but I can make a kick-ass homemade brownie.  I don’t know if people are intimidated by the baking process or what. But the recipe I love most is ridiculously simple and the results are chewy, fudgy goodness. I’ll share at the end.

So why did I make brownies from a box?

Desperation.

I was craving something dessert-like, but the house was devoid of most food, since I was getting ready for a vacation and I’d been eating things down. And I didn’t have some of the fundamental ingredients. But what I did have was a box of brownies. I’m not sure why. It’s possible I had a coupon. Regardless, desperate times call for desperate measures, and I had the quarter cup of water, quarter cup of oil and egg required, so brownies from a box it was.

I cannot deny that it’s faster and easier to stir three things into a heap of powder than it is to melt some butter and chocolate and stir in some sugar and flour. But the results are just not the same. It would suffice for that night. But the likelihood that I would actually finish the imposter brownies before they went stale (or I left for vacation) were pretty slim, because they’re just not that good – and ps, I didn’t. Neither did my dad, who inherited them a couple of days later when I left town. What can I say, we’re brownie snobs in my family. `:-)

The inferior box brownie

 

If you’ve never made your own brownies before, try this recipe. I SWEAR you can’t screw it up, and I promise it’ll be worth it.

Best Gooey Brownies, from the Junior League Centennial Cookbook

1 12-oz package semisweet chocolate chips
1 can sweetened condensed milk (not evaporated milk)
1/2 pound (2 sticks) plus 2 tablespoons butter
1 pound (2-1/4 cups) packed brown sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt (I use less)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Lightly spray a 13 x 9 x 2 inch baking pan. (If using a glass pan, bake at 325 degrees.)

In a large (LARGE) saucepan over low heat, melt the chocolate chips with the condensed milk and 2 tablespoons of butter while stirring slowly. Remove from the heat and cool slightly. Melt the remaining 1/2 pound of butter, stir in the sugar, and add to the chocolate mixture. Beat in the eggs one at a time. Stir in the vanilla, flour, and salt.

Turn the mixture into the prepared pan and bake for 30 to 35 minutes. Brownies will still be gooey in center. And delicious.

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Food, Just W

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Barky Anniversary!

See that lovely girl over there in my picture?  ——->

The furry one? That’s Ruby.

She is the funniest little dog, overflowing with personality. And today is our anniversary. Two years ago, my friend Sue sent me yet another doggie personal ad. I had told her I might be ready to start looking for my next canine companion, and she had been relentlessly sending me doggie porn, but nothing had sparked my interest until I saw Ruby Tuesday. She was fluffy (one of my requirements) and totally smiling for the camera. I decided I should go take a look, so I rounded up my dad for a second opinion, and we headed off to the shelter.

She was sitting quietly in her kennel, watching, waiting. I asked if I could meet her, and she was a total doll. Smaller than I thought I was looking for, but cute as shit and super friendly. She had been abandoned at the shelter so they didn’t know much about her, but she appeared to have been well cared for. I was smitten.

“I want her.”

At the shelter

The nice people at the shelter explained that the people who had been there right before me wanted her, too. They have this kind of odd system where they make you call and leave a message the next morning to say if you really want to adopt. The people had to call by 10am if they wanted her. I could do the same thing, and be second in line. Great. I went home and tried not to get my hopes up. The next morning, I called and left a message indicating that I was still interested.

And I waited.

I thought I should hear within an hour or so if I was going to get her. An hour passed and my spirits started to sink. Of course the other people wanted her – why wouldn’t they?

When my phone rang a little after 11, I figured they were calling to let me know Ruby Tuesday had been adopted. Instead, they told me that the family ahead of me was planning on adopting both a dog and a cat, but when they found out someone else wanted Ru, they decided just to adopt the cat so I could have the sweet doggie. I almost started crying. We were meant to be.

“You can pick her up at 4.”

What ha?? That day? Going to see her was a total whim. I wasn’t prepared for a dog – no leash, collar, food, treats, bowls, toys! But no sweat, I had five hours.

I think we were both a little anxious when we made the drive home that afternoon. You never know what you’re getting into with a new dog. Hell, I didn’t even know conclusively if she was housebroken (she was). I let her sniff around the yard a little, then took her inside to give her the grand tour. She wasted no time making herself at home, immediately jumping on my bed with an expression on her face that said, “So obviously this is where I sleep. Would you like to join me?”

We spent the next several days settling into our new life together. I was concerned. I’d had a really special bond with Sylvia, my prior dog, and Ruby was so different from her; I wasn’t sure I was going to fall head over heels.

Silly self.

I am powerless to resist the fur babies.

Seriously. I am the cutest.

In no time at all she had me wrapped around her little paw. I can’t imagine not having my funny, snuggly, happy Ruby girl. There will be more Ruby stories another day. For today, happy anniversary, sweet baby dog. And to the neighbors….sorry about the sometimes excessive barking.  🙂

“Goddammit!”

    

 

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Just W, Pets

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Argh.

I have not had time to blog.

It’s stressing me out. I have a handful of blogs I read on a regular basis, and I haven’t been reading those, either. Because reading other people’s blogs makes me feel guilty about not having written anything in a while. Which is kind of ridiculous, because I do this for me, and no one knows better than I do that I’ve been insanely busy. And then I’ll have a free hour and I’ll think ok, I should write something, but by the time I’ve checked what’s happening on Facebook and looked at my email and whatever else, I’m too tired or it’s time for bed, and I feel guilty and the cycle continues. Gah. How long has it been, I don’t even know…. let’s go peek. Yes, I avoid my own blog because if I pretend it’s not sitting there languishing, waiting for my attention, it’s not really happening, right?  May 10. Oh holy crap. That’s way too long. I’m sorry, blog. I promise I’ll be better. My goal when I started was to post about once a week, but I’ll settle for an average at the end of the year.  It’s not even like I don’t have things I want to write about, because I do. Sigh. Stupid time, or lack thereof.

So tonight I’m shaking it off, letting go, moving forward, getting back into the swing of things. I’m still busy, but I recognize this is a priority for me, so I recommit to making time for the project. You’re my witnesses. 🙂

Wanna catch up a little? There are some random things floating in my head tonight I feel I should share. And by “should”, I mean “want to”, as I’m sure you’ll agree once you see how silly they are.

I had a big salad for dinner tonight with fresh blueberries. I love blueberries in salads. Love. You should try it. Seriously. Like right now. Go make a salad. I can wait.

(whistling…….)

(Are you back? Ok, good.)

I’m camped out on the couch tonight under three (THREE!) blankets because hello, it’s COLD. And I am stubborn and refuse to turn the heat back on, because hello, it’s JUNE. And I am, of course, watching “Say Yes to the Dress”, because it’s Friday and I can’t stop myself. How is it possible that there is someone named Lindsey on every episode? Sorry, friends named Lindsey, I’m not bashing your name at all, just had no idea it was so….prevalent.

I have not washed my hair in two days, and it is enormous. It also looks marvelous. Seriously. I would post a picture, but it’s only my hair that looks awesome, the rest of me looks like I’ve been camped out on the couch all night.

Tonight I was also browsing the web for pot brownie recipes. For a friend. Truly. And I found this great site that had an illustrated recipe. I don’t know why I’m so tickled by it; it’s just so thoughtfully done. Look how cute this is. Honest, not for me though.

Did I mention there are THREE NEW EPISODES of “Say Yes to the Dress” on tonight? It’s a banner night. And also, the three blankets have worked, so it’s time for ice cream. I’ll be back soon. I mean it. In the meantime, what’s new with you?

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Blogging, Just W

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My typewriter is cooler than your typewriter

A few months ago, a friend sent me a link to something she had seen on fab.com that she thought I would like: a vintage typewriter that had been painted in fun, funky colors.

the inspiration

She was right. I. Loved. It. Wanted it. But holy crap, it was something like $400. I make impulse purchases like nobody’s business, but they’re usually in the neighborhood of $30 max. I don’t really have four hundred clams to drop on an interesting knick-knack.

Light bulb. How hard could it be to make something like that? Step one, procure vintage typewriter. Step two, make it look awesome. Shut up, stop laughing. I know I’m not the most crafty or artistic person in the world. But I have friends who are, and surely one of them could tell me what kind of paint to use and maybe help me with the execution.

I mentioned the project to my friend Jon (who for some reason doesn’t get a fake name – probably because he only does good things and doesn’t need protection), one of the people who I thought might be able to make recommendations. First words out of his mouth: “I have a typewriter you can have.” I’m sorry, what? Who just happens to have a spare retro typewriter? Jon, that’s who. He sent a picture to see if it was to my liking, and it was perfect.

Before

Not long after that, before I had a chance to pick it up, he mentioned to me that he’d started painting it. Shut the front door! Once again, more than I bargained for, and not at all what I’d been expecting or angling for – I truly just wanted his artistic input. But knowing full well that it would turn out far better in his hands than in mine, I simply waited.

A few weeks ago I got a text that it was ready. WOOOOO, I couldn’t wait to see it!!!! And holy cats, it’s freakin’ awesome. He went to town, not just on the typewriter itself, but on the case, so much so that I have to display it in its entirety.  (On my antique card catalog, in case you can’t tell.) Here, see for yourself, and envy me. 😉

After

Case, closed

Rear of case – duh.

Big fat shout out of thanks to Jon, for the amazeballs too-cool-to-be-called-a-knick-knack objet d’art.  MWAH!

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Friendship, Home, Just W

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Busy

Busy, busy, busy, busy.

That’s how I feel right now.

Busy with work.
Busy with friends.
Busy with normal life stuff like forgetting every day this week to buy more milk
Busy with yoga and zumba and dog walks and wanting to ride my bike.
Busy with meetings and committees and projects and events.
Busy with work. (did I mention that one?)
Busy getting prepared for an important trade show (14 days).
Busy trying to get a crap ton done before vacation (33 days).
Busy trying to find time to blog.  😉

Stupidly agreeing to new things. But working on getting rid of some others.

Going to bed at night spent. Sleeping soundly.

Good busy. Happy busy. But busy.

Busy. Busy. Busy. Busy. Busy.

 

Bus In Motion by Petr Kratochvil
publicdomainpictures.net

( Me. This is me. In case you’re not getting it.)

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Just W, Work

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