Saturday, September 29, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
There are five basic styles.
I'm learning Wu style Tai Chi.
The symbol to the left represents the Wu style.
Linda and I made it to our first class, which was actually the third class. It started a couple weeks ago but in no time we were caught up on the steps they had already learned.
Let me back up and describe the class. There are about twelve of us, Linda and I probably being the youngest, and we are both over 50. I don't have to be concerned about being distracted by any hot looking men in the class. There were two male species. One is older ... very older ... chubby ... actually fat, and couldn't hear well. He didn't like when the instructor stood in front of the class with her back towards us to show a move. I hope he doesn't become a complainer, I had to bite my tongue. The other man knew what he was doing. He stayed for the advanced class that follows ours, so maybe he was just warming up in ours.
The rest, chunky old ladies. One farted. Of course, she was the one standing next to me in my line, then moved to the line behind us. Thanks, I'll remember you.
The class time went fast and I wasn't bored at all. It's very calming, slow motion moves. By the end of the night, I had the moves down, to music, maybe not in a smooth flowing motion, but I knew what to do. I tried it this morning when I got up. I forgot some of the steps, but was surprised most of it came to me.
I think our opening moves are supposed to resemble this:
But for the most part, we may have looked like this:
Thursday, September 27, 2007
"An LA jury on Wednesday cleared pharmaceutical company Merck & Co. of liability in the case of an elderly man who claimed his heart ailments were caused by the drug maker's once-popular painkiller Vioxx.
"We didn't feel that a case was ever made that there is a connection between Vioxx and heart attacks," said jury foreman.
Jurors, however, agreed that there were potential risks for users taking Vioxx based on scientific studies.
"The drug maker faces more than 16,000 lawsuits involving Vioxx, which was pulled from the market in 2004 after a study found that it increased the risk of heart attacks."
"LA Jury convicts three police officers. The officers on trial in this case are accused of a variety of offenses, from planting a gun on one reputed gang member to conspiring to falsely arrest two other gang members for allegedly assaulting them. It is, in the view of prosecutors, just the tip of the iceberg. They believe that many more Los Angeles Police Departments -- Police Department officers working out of the department's now-defunct CRASH unit, which was a special anti-crime, anti-drug unit. It is believed that many officers there may have engaged in similar activity. Thus far, more than 100 convictions have been overturned because of this corruption probe. Some 70 police officers are under investigation."
Case #1 ... Vioxx has been pulled, the guy was looking for his med bills to be paid ... Nope not gonna happen per the jury.
Case #2 ... Waste of taxpayers money, cops trying to fight crime and drugs on the street, quite frankly, if the special unit did plant a gun to make an arrest of a drug pushing gang member, so be it. What? You don't think the FBI or CIA use questionable tactics? They just aren't judged by a jury.
And then we have LA's Jury decisions in murder trials:
Mr Not Guilty & Mr Not Sure
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
I'm still not sure what I just signed up for.
"Tai Chi Chuan is an ancient Chinese form of martial art/exercise that anyone can learn regardless of age or physical condition. It is based on martial art movements that are linked together like a dance routine."
I'm just hoping it will be a motivator to try and tone my jibbling flibbels and calm all the ruckus rolling around in my noodle.
For the next 14 weeks my friend Linda and I will be meeting on Thursday nights to accomplish all of the above. I think. I tend to be a class clown, and that is one of the biggest reasons I have never taken-up my sister's invitation to try Yoga with her.
I didn't ask if this is a mixed class, men and women. That would be nice. Unless there were those moves where you have to hold your butt cheeks together tight to suppress a fart. It would not be a good visual for the person standing behind me, and a real bummer for me if it was a good looking man.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
The older I get, the less I dream. Maybe because I am so tired at the end of the day, I pass out more so than fall into sleep.
When I was little, I had three reoccurring dreams, on rotation. (must be that OCD thing, I even had to keep my nightmares in precise order)
My earliest dream I can remember was when I was about four. I would wake up in a total sweat, heart pounding, scared to death.
I was being chased around a room by witches in wheelchairs. They held their long skinny crooked hands out trying to catch me. They had that eerie cackle, cross between a laugh and a growl. They wore long black dresses, high top laced boots, and the typical pointy hat with huge brim.
I wonder where I got that visual. I do recall later, being terrified of nuns. I hadn't seen the Wizard of Oz at that age yet.
My second dream was me alone, in an all white room. There was a wooden slat crate on the floor. Each board was nailed down tight in neat rows. I could see the huge oranges through the slats. (Yes, I did and still do dream in color) Then, in slow motion, one by one, the nails would slowly pop up, until three or four slats opened. The oranges would begin to roll out of the crate, across the floor, and between my feet. At this point I would know I was dreaming and know what was going to happen next, but I could never wake myself up. As the oranges filled the space all around me, they began to morph into snakes. Once again, I'd wake up sweating and scared to death.
My third is actually funny now, but it wasn't when I was little. I would find myself alone, in a square room. No doors or windows. As I looked across the room, it seemed far, like a mile long. I would notice something coming at me, slowly at first, but then it would pick up speed. I would soon realize that I was about 2" tall and it was the linoleum rolling up. I would turn and run, occasionally looking back to see that it was gaining on me. I would get almost to the wall and realize there was no way out and I was about to be smashed into the wall ... but I would wake up before that happened.
So those are my pre-five year old dreams. I remember them in great detail as if I had them last night. I wonder what they meant, or what triggered them. What were my parents were letting me watch on TV? Does anyone know how to analyze dreams? Maybe I shouldn't know.
/ head tilt /
As I said, I don't dream much now. I can't recall the last dream I had.
What did you dream about as a child?
Monday, September 24, 2007
I think I have figured out why I am successfully losing.
I start with a nutritious breakfast:
Kashi - Autumn Wheat
Fresh Kiwi, strawberries, and pineapple
A dollop of vanilla yogurt
Then I add one adorable irresistible *begging dog. After a couple bites, I can't resist and give him the bowl.
Repeat at dinner time with a Weight Watchers meal or salad.
Lunch at work is my only unshared meal.
* His begging is sitting on his hind end wobbling back and forth from one side to the other, not barking or jumping, but occasionally emitting a grunt with his mouth closed.
Quinn loves fruit and vegi's and the vet said they are fine for him.
Quinn also loves to wear shirts. Here's his new Halloween hoodie.
Yes, at times I miss my kids not living at home, sorta. No I don't want grandkids yet. Quinn is a good substitute for now.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
My niece gave birth to her third child last week. Her son L (six) and daughter K (three) are singing to their new baby sister. I love how L kisses the baby's head. This was taken about 30 minutes after she was born.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Well, that happened to me last night.
I think I will just skip anymore writing, because I am as much speechless as I am full of comments!
Here's what I found in part.
There were some I couldn't bring myself to post.
* The 1-3-5- rule is used by men in the restroom to allow space between each other. Never stand next to someone, if you can't stand 1-3-5 ... grab a stall.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Six were arrested, 5 have been released on bail because their families raised the money.
Since the appeals court overturned his conviction, Mychal Bell is still being held with bond set at $90K.
"The black teen at the center of a furor over legal racism remained behind bars – though charges against him were thrown out Friday - because the judge and prosecutor didn’t come to a bail hearing yesterday, his lawyer said.
“We showed up. There was nobody there,” said Bob Noel, lawyer for 17-year-old Mychal Bell of Jena, La. “No DA, no judge.”
A woman who answered the phone at District Attorney Reed Walters’ office said he had no bail procedure on his calendar.
An appeals court on Friday threw out the conviction of Bell, who was charged as an adult with attempted murder last year for punching a white classmate in a schoolyard scuffle. The charges were later reduced to aggravated battery, a charge the appeals court said should have been dealt with in juvenile court.
Noel had filed a motion to have Bell released - or his $90,000 bail reduced - while the prosecutor mulls whether to appeal the overturning of Bell’s conviction. He has two weeks to decide." Helen Kennedy, New York Daily News
Why doesn't Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, Martin Luther King III, and other notables that have spoken out on the J-6 and attended the protest yesterday, kick in a few bucks and get Mychal out of jail?
Thursday, September 20, 2007
From Glamour :
Every Woman Should Have:
- One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to (even if you wouldn't) and one who reminds you of how far you've come.
- Enough money within your control to move out and rent a place on your own, even if you never want or need to.
- Something perfect to wear if the employer or man of your dreams wants to see you in an hour.
- A purse, a suitcase and an umbrella you're not ashamed to be seen carrying.
- A youth you're content to move beyond.
- A past juicy enough that you're looking forward to retelling it in your old age.
- A set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill and a black lace bra.
- One friend who always makes you laugh and one who lets you cry.
- A good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in your family.
- Eight matching plates, wineglasses with stems and a recipe for a meal that will make your guests feel honored.
- A resume that is not even the slightest bit padded.
- A feeling of control over your destiny.
- A skin care regime, an exercise routine and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don't get better after 30.
- A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship and all those other facets of life that do get better.
- How to fall in love without losing yourself.
- How you feel about having kids.
- How to quit a job, break up with a man and confront a friend without ruining the friendship.
- When to try harder and when to walk away.
- How to kiss a man in a way that communicates perfectly what you would and wouldn't like to happen next.
- How to have a good time at a party you'd never choose to attend.
- How to ask for what you want in a way that makes it most likely you'll get it.
- That you can't change the length of your calves, the width of your hips or the nature of your parents.
- That your childhood may not have been perfect, but it's over.
- What you would and wouldn't do for love or money.
- How to live alone, even if you don't like it.
- Who you can trust, who you can't, and why you shouldn't take it personally.
- Where to go - be it your best friend's kitchen table or a charming inn hidden in the woods - when your soul needs soothing.
- What you can and can't accomplish in a day, a month, and a year.
- Why they say life begins at 30.
Things A Man Should Not Do After The Age Of 30:
- Use the word party as a verb.
- Body shots.
- Jell-O shots. Especially Jell-O shots.
- Read a book with the words Zen and the Art of in the title.
- Do impressions of Austin Powers characters, especially Dr. Evil.
- Help friends move.
- Ask friends to help you move.
- Crash on a friend's floor or couch.
- Refer to breasts as "chesticles."
- Experiment with facial hair.
- Let your underpants show above your jeans or below your shorts.
- Apply paint to your face for any reason at all.
- Own beer-drinking paraphernalia.
- Own a skull bong.
- Know the names of the current Real World cast.
- Remove your shirt in public--unless there is sand and a large body of water nearby.
- Use the word dude, except when referring to a ranch or a well-dressed Englishman.
- Use the word dawg in a sentence when referring to a friend or, worse, yourself.
- Own a futon.
- Own a beanbag chair.
- Hang art framelessly.
- Hang tapestries.
- Drink malternative beverages.
- Don a puka-bead necklace.
- Break up with a girlfriend by e-mail.
- Engage in pranks involving airborne food.
- Own a Lava lamp.
- Pool hop.
- Live with someone you don't sleep with.
- Share a hotel room with someone you don't sleep with.
- Play fantasy sports.
- Divide a restaurant bill with a friend in any way other than 50-50.
- Sleep past 10:30.
- Refer to a woman's genitalia as her "nappy dugout."
- Cook exclusively on a George Foreman grill.
- Wear a jersey with the name of a professional athlete on the back.
- Employ any other pickup line besides "Hi, my name is _____. What's yours?"
- Listen to .
- Use Internet acronyms, especially ROFL and LOL.
- Shave any part of your body except your face.
- Enjoy movies.
- Run with the bulls in .
- Attend Mardi Gras, , or .
- Own a fish tank.
- Fall asleep in public.
- Call drugs by their street names (e.g., junk, smack, or whitebag).
- Pick a fistfight by thrusting out your neck, flexing, and screaming, "It's go time!"
- See any movie with elves, mutants, wookies, or other nonhuman characters on opening night.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
What does it mean to be Schmoozed? Well it is said that schmoozing is the natural ability “to converse casually, especially in order to gain or make a social connection.”It’s an award for those who have the natural ability “to effortlessly weave their way in and out of the blogosphere, leaving friendly trails and smiles, happily making new friends along the way.
They don’t limit their visits to only the rich and successful, but spend some time to say hello to new blogs as well.They are the ones who engage others in meaningful conversations, refusing to let it end at a mere hello - all the while fostering a sense of closeness and friendship.”
And here I just thought it was the ability to suck-up *wink*
Maybe you sent me an e-mail or left a comment that you don't quite recall ... I didn't forget it. Thanks for schmoozing me!
Mary Alice at From the Front Lines
Jami at not THAT different
Heather at Queen of the Mayhem
TC at Ever After ... My Way
Patience at Patience is a Virtue
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Yes, Caitlin moved out, I miss her.
(Beth, I know you get it)
Bryan is back on two feet, back to work this week.
Quinn is back on four feet, healing real good.
House, UGH, I'm staying put.
Weight, covered that yesterday.
Cell phone, I have a brand new one.
Hot water heater, I didn't know what I was missing! Longer hot showers.
Detroit Tigers, I still have hope, seasons not done yet.
Blog bling, a Schmoooze award from Around the Island, thanks!
.... and the best update:
My niece Fannee Doolee delivered Bridget Sophia this morning!
Hopefully stats and pics to follow soon.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Thursday, September 13, 2007
I concede, I am here for a couple more years.
My house is brick and vinyl. The woman I bought it from, had just painted the shutters, front door, and garage door before she listed it.
Her fresh, new paint choice ... ghetto green. Sorry, that's what I call it because if you cruise through the 'hoods of Detroit, that is the main color on most houses.
I have ignored it for five years. Now that I know I am here for a while, I had to change it. I picked out a fawnishy medium brownish color that picked up the brown tones in my brick. My painter pointed out to me that the accent color should connect more with the roof color, for curb appeal. I winced and noted the roof is brown with more red tones. My brick is dark tan with brown tones. She gave me the "Hey, it's your house" look, but the body language said, "It's gonna look funny." So I went with her suggestion.
When I got home from work, she had the whole job done. Shutters, front door, garage door, back door, and side entrance door to garage. She was gone. I stood in my driveway dumbfounded. My neighbor came out. He said, "Wow, she did a great job."
I gave him the look and said, "Did a great job" is the same as someone looking at a homely kid and saying "Such perfect French braids." You are stretching to compliment on something positive.
It went from ghetto green to baby-sh*t brown.
We stared at it and decided it did match the roof, perfectly. Then he pointed out it's more of a caramel color.
Yeah, that's it. ::: still trying to convince myself :::
I can live with caramel, but probably just until spring.
I started looking around Craigslist. So many categories, items wanted, items selling, employment, personal ads, open letters to businesses and individuals, etc.
I got stuck for a long time reading in the category "Best of Craigslist." This was an open letter post, and deserves being placed on the best list:
You Rule, Vietnamese Waxer Lady
Date: 2006-03-15, 3:44PM PST
My regular waxer was not available and I just could not bear the wild, untamed amazon bush jungle that my, well, bush had become for another day.
So I came to you on my lunch hour, Anonymous Vietnamese Waxer Lady who works at the cheapie nail place. We were mere strangers before this afternoon, but after knowing you only an hour, I feel like I must point out the reasons why you rule.
When it was necessary to get on all fours to do the “taint” part of the wax, you applied the wax so delicately to my bunghole, then asked, in what I assumed were two of the only five English words you know, “Too hot?” I responded yes, it was too hot. And without hesitation, you blew on it to cool the hot wax. YOU BLEW ON MY BUNGHOLE, Vietnamese Waxer Lady. Do you know how special that is? Nobody blows on the bung. Nobody.
Since you were a bit clumsy with the wax, there were many bits leftover that did not get taken up onto the “Strip of Doom” as I like to call it. So without any sort of trepidation whatsoever, you happily took a cotton ball and dug the wax out of my vaginal canal yourself. How did you manage to do that without making me feel the least bit uncomfortable, Vietnamese Waxer Lady? Were you a gynecologist back in Vietnam and they wouldn't let you practice medicine in the United States when you immigrated here, and so now you wax pubes for a living? I know that kind of thing happens all the time, and it wouldn't surprise me at all to know this occupation has not been your first foray into coochdom. And I know this is totally inappropriate, but I even started to feel, dare I say, a tiny bit frisky from the action. You just seemed to know my vagina so very well. Almost like you were two old friends, and I was this new acquaintance showing up to lunch with you and my vagina, but then was all like “Oh. I see you two have already met.”
Since you don’t speak much English, you had to motion to me where to place my legs in the air to best reach the “corner” as you called it. Most people would have been uncomfortable with their legs in the air and then having their butt cheeks spread further apart, mere centimeters from the face of a stranger. But you smiled at me and with a subtle expression, indicated that you, too, felt my pain. You should give lessons to medical students, Vietnamese Waxer Lady, on how to have good bedside manner. Or I guess in your case, ass-side manner.
I thanked you with a good tip, but I want to thank you here, publicly, for your selfless action, and for doing your part on behalf of all humanity to keep my pubes under control.
I guess either eBay or Craigslist works for buying or selling items, but Craigslist is more entertaining.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Com'on, we all like it. Admit it, there is a little bit of Sally Field in all us bloggers.
"You like me, you really like me."
Sunshine (Sonia), at ... and the pursuit of happiness, has bestowed her original, catch phrase award on me, (and well a boat load of others, but for now this is all about me ok?)
Sonia loves using the phrase "Cat's Ass" and as she says, it indeed works for so many situations. Per (or should I say "purrrr") her Urban Dictionary, cats ass means:
The very best. The finest. The epitome. Most excellent. Absolutely, without a doubt, for sure, unbeatable, "can't be licked". The best, the bomb. In reference to something more excellent than a cat's meow.
Thanks Sunshine ... and if anyone else wants to get her Cats Ass bling, go walk between the pages of her posts, claw at the links to some of her fabulous other sites on her side bar, slink in and out of her comment section leaving your paw prints ... just don't leave any hairballs!
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Happy 29th Birthday to my nephew Michael
*With Santa in your Star Wars shirt, you are so cool*
Click on the pictures to enlarge
He is still in high school, and may not be forgiving
if I posted his baby pictures.
So here is a nice photo of him marching in his high school band.
And his Harry Potter look.
See some GOOD things did happen on 9/11 ...
Happy birthday you guys!
Monday, September 10, 2007
I knew it wouldn't be long before she gave me blog fodder.
This morning .....
Cait: *on the phone* 9AM , frantic, PMSing, frustrated:
My garbage disposal is broke.
Me: *Being a Mom* Well, if you would pay the extra fee and tell the apartment manager you have Puma, they could send a repairman out.
Cait: Thanks, I needed that, never mind, I have to get to work.
Me: *Being a Mom again* Don't worry, I will come there on my lunch hour and see if I can clear it out and get it running.
Cait: Thanks Mom.
So on my lunch hour, I went to her apartment and stuck my hand in her clogged sink. This is what I pulled out (not actual pictures, but exact items) :
Gross, I know.
Then I felt something jammed, but couldn't figure out what it was. After getting the little allen wrench out and turning the blade from under the disposal, I reached in and pulled THIS out:
I hit the reset button and it worked perfectly.
Me: *on the phone* Cait, I got the disposal cleared and working.
Cait: Great, thanks Mom.
Me: Um, Cait, there are some things you can't put down a disposal.
Cait: Hu? What?
Me: Let's just say, if you won't eat it, neither will your disposal.
Cigarette butts, coke bottle caps, and shot glasses can't be ground up.
Cait: I didn't put them in there.
Me: Then you better forbid Puma to smoke and drink while you aren't home.