Category Archives: Musings

June Zoom


I think June may be the most conflicted month of the year. I sit here looking at the calendar just stunned that the year is nearly half gone. Yet, when you have school aged kids, or work at a school, June marks the end of a year. Our kids have been counting off the days until school is over. Parents are too. We are all just tired of the routine. The alarms that don’t ever succeed in rousting your child out of bed, so mom has to face that grumpy music. The breakfasts and lunches that have to be made. We pray they are actually packed and in the backpack along with all necessary assignments due. And that they HAVE their backpacks with them. Somewhere,  in all that,  mom hopefully packed her own lunch and also the rather critical laptop for work. (You’d be surprised how often I forget that!) Lord knows how many other events/sports/clubs we’ve all juggled since Fall. So yes, we all crave the end of school.

Somehow I have ended up with the brilliant timing of dentists and doctors appointments landing in June. I just adore squeezing those in with the typical end of year school stuff (please note the sarcasm). End of year events that are doubled if your child is finishing up a “promotion” year. Like 8th grade. Awards night. Yearbook party. Disneyland trip. Promotion. Sorry if I don’t get too wrapped up in 8th grade promotion, it’s just too ridiculous to celebrate “graduating” after just 2 years.
The thing is, because it is a major transition year, we are already looking forward. I’ve already been to one freshman football meeting, we got his preliminary class list, there is a spring alumni football BBQ that incoming freshman are encouraged to attend. Dude, we are already so DONE with middle school!
And yet……

We moms are conflicted aren’t we? Yes, we want it to end, but then what? Exactly how many weeks will it take into summer vacation before we start pining away for the school routine to return? It takes me about one week. But then, I have a unique situation. My school aged child takes off every summer for 5-6 weeks to have his own true summer vacation in Sweden. I’m used to it, but it’s still a long time. I look forward to it in many ways and put off doing things and seeing friends until he’s gone on purpose to fill the time. Of course, one of the people I would catch up with was Jax. I’m trying not to think about that. Or, maybe I should try to get my Braveheart on and just go to Ts for brunch finally. The Fair sure won’t be the same. But it’s not just the hole she leaves this year. I think it’s knowing that there are only four more Junes left in this cycle of my life. I’ve had a child in school for my entire adult life! What happens when there are no more?

I’m not trying to be too maudlin. It just is what it is. Time marches on. At the speed of light. Which is why, as we have all been wishing for June, and we want school to end, there is still a tiny voice in the corner of your brain saying STOP! Slow down!! Don’t go!!

And maybe the voice in my head is just a teensy bit louder this year.

Hello, I love you, wont you tell me your name?


True confession: I’m 45. That’s NOT old – really, stop laughing please.

Truer confession: As Robin warned me, my brain has lost all capacity to remember proper nouns. You know, names of people, places, movies, song etc etc. Numbers? No problemo. Proved it last night while in a debate with a friend on the phone over another mutual friend’s birthday.  She looked it up – I was right. Details of a sequence of events? I got that covered too. However, the NAMES of the people involved? Oh, well..that would be X and Y right?

Truer-er confession: I gave my mom holy hell for YEARS over this same dilemma when it hit her (which, unfortunately for her given her own age when I was born was pretty much my entire childhood). Of course, she made it a lot easier to tease by inserting the word “goo-goo” for when she couldn’t retrieve a name. I wont be repeating that mistake :-)

Now, I am not talking about flipping names. Just about every parent I know regardless of age who has more than one child, or, perhaps, a pet or two in the house has issues with assigning the correct name to the correct child/spouse/pet. That’s just part of living way too hectic lives trying to keep up with everyone and their schedules.

I’m talking about flat out NOT being able to pull up the Name identifier from your memory banks. It’s so bad that it transferred into my dreams last night! Seriously – I dreamt that in order to get into some place where I was supposed to be volunteering that I had to give a code word. And the word was the name of a baseball team. Which, in the dream, I could NOT remember and they would NOT let me in!! it was horrid. Then my alarm went off, and I kid you not that after I rolled over to turn it off and then turn on the TV as I always do to help me wake up slowly, the shadow of the dream was still on my mind and I was *still* trying to remember that damn team name! And I could NOT! Dreaming or awake…the memory closet was CLOSED. Ten minutes later it did pop into my brain, but hey, too late! And way to start off the day feeling utterly stupid.

So how does one exercise the brain to get back that part of ones memory? Remember this isn’t trying to remember NEW names of people you meet (I’ve always stunk at that one!!), but old ones. Proper names of anything. WHY does that vanish and can you get it back?

Or will I have to resort to some cutesy filler name? And if so, what should that be because no, I am not going to use “goo-goo”?!!

My own private landscape: was there ever any doubt?


This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I set out on my workout hike this weekend with the Private Landscape post in mind. I really gave this a lot of thought and didn’t want to seem so obvious in my choice.

But here’s the thing – I don’t have a terribly fertile imagination. Even my dreams rarely go anywhere too detached from reality. Once I was solidly in touch with myself as an adult, I was pretty much settled right where I am now. Even though I’ve traveled a fair number of places and been lucky enough at some points to spend a pretty good chunk of time elsewhere, I never felt that there was anyplace other than here that was home. I know, I’m very lucky. I have no longing to be anywhere else. What feeds my soul are two distinct smells: ocean & pine & sagebrush. The sounds I need are the sounds of crashing waves and the wind whistling amongst pine needles. I need to see a landscape of varying heights & textures & colors.

Yes, I just described the Torrey Pines Reserve.

Ideally I will someday have a house closer to all of that. Which is quibbling really since I am less than 3 miles away from the trails. Maybe a little shack/cottage on the west side, perhaps on the south side of the Del Mar ridge within the loosely defined Artists Colony on one of the streets that starts with a “Via”.

As trite as it may sound, my own private landscape is right here in my back yard :-)

Filling spaces


Geraniums and statis filling open spaces on my hillside

I was catching up with some friends at a dinner a couple of weeks ago and I was asked a question that made me pause for a concrete answer:

“So what are you doing with all your free time now that you are not volunteering – other than reading books again?”

Well…..

It’s not that I am *doing* all that much more with my time really.

I mean, it’s not like we were talking about days upon days of suddenly free time.

I still work full time.

I still have a house to pay for and manage and keep up.

I still have two boys.

The oldest needs me to be his transportation to/from the necessary classes to re-obtain his drivers license legally and to be his sounding board as he navigates the process of becoming completely independent after his many setbacks.

The youngest still needs me for the usual things – homework monitor, cook, transportation, laundry etc.

I still have two cats who like a clean litter box & food and water and brushing and nails clipped and necks scratched.

I still have this blog – and another one that I started last year while still volunteering.

So other than reading a book a week, what am I *doing* with all that time?

It was a question that made me wonder – should I be *doing* more?

Why must we always be *doing* something?

No, I have not constructively replaced those tasks with anything fabulous I suppose.

It’s more like I am able to pay closer attention to what was on my plate before too.

Such as my yard which requires some clean up and manual watering now and then. There’s the bird feeder I put up which needs re-filling and cleaning.

I can get into a regular schedule of cleaning, meal planning, grocery shopping to keep up with things a little better so that the thought of someone coming over for dinner doesn’t seem like a major chore requiring hours of preparation.

There’s the same pile of magazines which no longer pile up since I can pretty much read them as they arrive.

I feel like I get to just BE without as much clutter in my brain. Don’t get me wrong, you can see from that above list that there’s still plenty to clutter it. There’s just a couple less items which has allowed the others to spread out a bit. Stretch their legs. Allowed a stray thought to become an idea to become reality like those statis flowers poking through the spaces in the geranium.

The reality of reading a book.

Of watching a Padres game pitch to pitch while talking online with my fellow Padres fans.

Of playing a board game with Sportsboy after dinner.

Of the DVR list being empty by Sunday night each week.

Of knowing the three of us can relax together and watch the Season 2 premier of Glee next week.

Spaces of time & a clearer mind that get filled, not necessarily with *doing* big and wonderful things, but just with living.

It make not seem exciting in the telling, but I think it is just fine, thanks for asking.

We might need a bigger boat, but not a leaf blower!


In an unusual display of weather in San Diego this week, we’ve now had 4 days of often intense rain coupled with REALLY intense wind. There were even tornado warnings a couple of days ago along the coast from Long Beach down to the Tijuana border.

Every time I have to drive in it, I am thankful for the new tires I got last week and the new wipers I got last month. I also watch around me for falling branches and trees and flooding streets and mudslides. Yep, I’ve seen all of those between home and work. This morning particularly since it’s been raining quite steadily since about 5pm yesterday so I knew the ground saturation would be at it’s peak. My mind keeps getting that line from Jaws running through my head as I pass one mudslide or flooded area after another “We’re gonna need a bigger boat!”

Then, in the middle of a nearly horizontal downpour this morning I see a guy like this (only picture it gray & raining into his ears):

WTF?!!!

Are our lives too boring for blogging?


This topic inspired by Robin, who wonders if her life is too boring for blogging. to which I replied: “Honey, all our lives are too boring for blogging!”

And yet we plug away at it, and, shockingly, people regularly stop by to read – why, I wonder? Well, as to the reading part, I suspect that many of us have a tiny Mrs Kravitz in our souls:

For whatever reason, everyone elses lives fascinate us. Not just people we already know somehow, but also utter strangers who we have never met in real life and who we simply ‘know’ because we stumbled on their blog some way or the other and could relate to them so we keep dropping in. After a few visits (and perhaps a stroll through their archives) we feel like we are old friends and we add each other to our Readers and there you go! A permanent voyeur is trapped!

And really, Robin is right, if we just basically described what any of us do from day to day, it surely wouldn’t be selling any movie or tv show scripts in Hollywood. As bloggers, we get to enhance the details with pictures & self deprecating humor and our own individual tweak on life’s daily drudgery.  I know what first drew me to Robin’s place were her photos, particularly watching the season’s pass through the photos of the pond on her property. It’s different,  new and therefore interesting. It’s a lovely diversion from my own daily grind. Just as (I hope), my place is a diversion for others.

As far as why we *write* about what we all inevitably refer to as our boring lives? Well, I like to think that it keeps us more engaged, right? I mean, you know you stop some days after something happens and think “I have to blog about that!” Most of my topics are observations and musings based on something that happened in my life that made me giggle or got my brain buzzing. Like reading Robin’s post this morning :-)

So hey, you know the old sayings about the grass being greener on the other side of the fence and one mans’ trash being another mans’ treasure? Well, let’s just say that one blogger’s too boring life is another blogger’s reason to peer through a window ;-)

What a drag it is getting (c)old


Unfortunately, mother’s little helper wouldn’t help with this problem. Or, maybe it would since I wouldn’t care? :-)

Have any other ladies out their experienced this? Not just getting more and more sensitive to cold, but getting it in one specific area? Making you so cold that you feel like that guy up there all the time? Like there is some sort of internal shiver mechanism constantly ready to go on? I’m not talking about feet and hands. Cold feet is a given with women I think! Circulation to the extremities is always lacking and particularly hightened when it is cold. Hence my need to always sleep with socks on, and sometimes even with gloves (oh baby, sexy sexy!)

No, I am talking about this:

Not from the – uh oh, I would totally be guilty of a muffin top if I wore that perspective – when I see that, my thoughts always go to “brrrrrrrrrr….she must be FREEEZING!”

Because somewhere along the way, that rather charming area of the body displayed there became popsicle central on me. if it dips anywhere below 70, I swear my midriff drops into the low 40s! Or, that’s how it interprets the temperature anyway! I mean, if I am being honest, I *could* pull off that look up there without provding the world with a muffin top. I’ve been blessed with no excess flab there (the butt got it ALL which would make this outfit look ridiculous for an entirely different reason!!) and yet I’d never be caught dead like that. Well, maybe that’s wrong. I would be caught dead, because I would have frozen to death the moment I stepped outside :-)

The point being – WHY is my stomach so sensitive to cold? Why does it drive my entire body temp? Seriously, I not only need to keep it covered, I also need to keep it *properly covered* as in, say I wear a loose blouse over some dress slacks – disasater! Why? Because there is nothing *snugly* keeping that area covered and warm. I’ll get these cold shivers that originate somewhere deep inside..well..midriff deep anyway..that defy logic!

Suddenly I understand why camisoles exist and I thank the fashion gods for that most blessed of inventions: the camisole bra:

I know it’s winter when I need to break out the cami-bras every day. When I need to wear a snug fitting camisole to tuck into my pajama pants at night to keep properly covered.

Anyone else have an internal icebox lurking behind their belly button?

Why I am not doing NaBloPoMo


Actually, I got nuthin today. Or tomorrow, or….

Unless someone wants to suggest something….

‘Cause other than work I’m just wandering around wondering whatever SB and I will do with ourselves with no football practices & game to prepare for this week….

Other than me doing my best not to need a tissue when I see his equipment bag sitting in the foyer as a stark reminder of what is over forever….

(I’m really not that pathetic)…

(Or maybe I am)….

Do you know any male chauvinist pigs?


male_chauvinist

Ladies – which means all of my readers except for maybe 2? – do you know a male chauvinist pig? Are you often surprised when you encounter one? You know what I mean right? A guy who never *says* anything really wrong, but just makes your skin crawl and delivers the message through body language and facial expressions and tone of voice that you just don’t matter because you are a girl. They know The Lines they shouldn’t cross, but at the same time it is pretty clear they do NOT consider you an equal. In some ways they cover this by being TOO nice – too polite – too complimentary. Stopping mid sentence to say “Oh, you know you look very nice today” with a smile that is just too bright and a squeeze of your arm – coming from someone who really doesn’t know you well enough to be making that gesture. Then completely cutting off the conversation as one of his buddies walks up and turning away from you with nary an apology, or maybe a very muffled one thrown over his shoulder. No guilt over that since he gave you a compliment right? Acting impatient when you ask for a favor quizzing you about why you need to do that, then 5 minutes later going out of his way to help out another fellow board member who is male without question. Never truly giving you his full attention (something you realize after running the tapes of every conversation you’ve had with him through your mind after the latest cut off/distracted discussion). Yet he gives a dad on his team his undivided attention as you stand by dutifully waiting for him even though he knows you have to leave. I’m no raging feminist but I can also tell when I am being dismissed due to my gender.

Oddly – I know two guys like this. Both my age too. I think in some ways I could understand if it was someone from an older generation. But now? C’mon! It’s 2009! Really?

And there’s nothing I can do about it since they *dont* do anything overtly wrong. Instead I just smile real pretty :-) and count down the days until I don’t have to deal with them anymore.

Concert etiquette and how do you make those videos?


As I slowly return to reality post-concert, it occurred to me that I need to rant a bit about something I kind of glossed over in my long concert review. This concerns concert etiquette. Here are some things that are sure to set me off if you are around me at a concert:

  • Drinking
  • Eating smelly/loud foods
  • Talking
  • Moving up and down the aisles 85000 times due to said drinking.

Seriously, why pay those exhorbinant ticket prices if you are not even going to pay attention? Oh sure, plunk down $75 for the crappiest seats, then go buy $12 nachos and $15 beers and sit there and munch out as if you were at a ball game, then go back for more beer (or wine as the women in front of me were doing), and garlic fries. Then get up and go to the bathroom, then get more to drink.  Oh, maybe have some candy which you break into very loudly. Meanwhile other than the 10 minute intermission they had during the concert, you’ve missed like 1/4-1/3 of the very fast paced show and probably at least one person’s entire SET in order to eat and drink. Of course, after 3-4 drinks it gets harder and harder to navigate those stairs doesn’t it? So on that last beer run you spill. The WHOLE container. Down the steps. So that anyone going up or down after you gets to slip and slide in it. But hey! Don’t alert anyone! Just kick that now empty cup under a seat and scurry on down for a refill (sure hope you hit the bathroom while you were out). Oh, and don’t forget to start one of those LOUD drunk voiced conversations with your neighbor just as the feature act comes out and slows things down into one of his mellow, haunting tunes. Make SURE your voices can be heard for three rows down AND up over the singer! Niiiiiice. Then get up to dance to the next fast song. Fall down! Get up and realize that you cannot really navigate sitting in your seat anymore so just sit on the step in the aisle.

You stay classy San Diego!

I have just never understood doing *anything* at a concert other than singing and dancing and *listening* to the music. I might have a water with me but the last thing I want to do is get drunk so that I cannot remember what I’ve seen, or end up in the bathroom so much that I miss a ton. I just DONT GET IT!

Go ahead and call me the cranky old lady now :-)

As to videos from these shows – can someone explain to me how this was done – really, is it a cell phone? A camera with a video function? And do you stand there holding it up the whole time or are you watching the performance through the view finder (somethine else that would diminish the experience for me). Not that I mind the result. I mean – wowza – check out how good this is and the sound quality and, well..those moves!

more about “Adam Lambert, Bowie Medley, Glendale …“, posted with vodpod