Holidays and Charity

I've now been involved in the Holidailies writing project in December for three years. To my surprise today, there's an announcement that Holidailies is planning on doing some sort of a charity drive via the site, and that today's prompt was to write about ideas.

I have to admit that I'm a little bothered by this. And to prevent myself from sounding like a grinch, here's why:

Charity, when done correctly, is something that's personal, in my opinion. I don't need to broadcast who I've given money to, nor who I've donated time to. Quite frankly, I don't feel comfortable announcing what I've done because it sounds far too much like grandstanding to me and a case of who's outdonating who. I have my personal interests of where to donate my money and my time, and I leave it at that.

And it bothers me a bit that a few days into Holidailies, there's now a press for charity, and the "if every participant gives xyz"... NO. I understand it's optional to give, but it's the principle of the thing. If you're planning that sort of a side-project, state that up-front. It sounds disingenuous to me a few days into the project. I don't appreciate peer pressure to give - particularly at a time where I'm scraping every penny and every minute of time to figure out what way is up because yes, it's the holidays AND particularly not through a journal portal that has a completely different focus.

And... if for no other reason, I simply don't have the time and energy during the month of December to go research the charitable organization that may be chosen. And yes, I am extremely picky as to where I donate my money and/or time. Because many charitable organizations are tied to larger organizations or corporations that I do not want to associate with if possible.

Donating my money so Holidailies can continue? Fine. No problem.
Donating my money to a charity organization as of yet unidentified? No. Absolutely not.

If you want donations for charity, please get the site up prior to five days before Holidailies starts so folks can research your planned charities.

And I'm sorry to sound grouchy about it, but considering that no one's commenting on my entries for Holidailies anyway, what does my opinion matter, eh?

Stopping Time

via today's prompt at Holidailies, which asked for a story about snow.

ETA: This entry was noted as a "Best of Holidailies 2007" posting. Hooray! :) Thank you to whomever nominated me!

Saturday, January 23, 2005...

Funny that it's now nearly three years ago, but I can remember the entire evening like it was yesterday. Big events in your life tend to be that way, don't they?

I spent that weekend in January holed up in the Park Plaza Hotel in Boston, Massachusetts. As in years past, my other half, Erich, and I were attending the Arisia fandom convention, held every January.

It had already shaped up to be a unique convention experience. Our requested king-sized bed had been upgraded - for free- to a mini-suite, allowing us both a bedroom and a sitting room for the remainder of the con. In addition, our room was on Dealer's Row, where a good portion of the convention wares dealers set up shop within hotel rooms. Every year, it's one of the bustling areas of the con - and my personal favorite to hang out on - and here I was, with my hotel room on Dealer's Row.

Life couldn't be better.

As Friday night and Saturday morning rolled on, reports about a winter storm brewed, but all was well. The con staff kept weather updates in the main hallways. A few presenters and panel guests cancelled out to fly home before it got too bad, but everything went on as a normal con.

Erich and I decided to go out into the city to grab dinner somewhere in Back Bay before it got too bad. We wandered two blocks down the street to Fire + Ice, one of our favorite restaurants (and the one where we'd gone on our first date... so it was sentimental). The snow was just starting to fall as we went inside.

The restaurant was dead. The snow was beginning to swirl, and in true New England snow-phobic fashion, few people had dared head out into the streets. We took our time, had a lovely dinner, and then headed outside...

where we found nearly six inches of snow already on the ground. The snow was really swirling now. The windtunnel that is Back Bay Boston was in full force. And then Erich looked at me and asked if we could go one more block over, just for a second, so he could see how the snow was swirling in the Hancock intersection.

I thought it was a bit odd - because the corner of Clarendon and St. James Streets is the LAST place you want to be during a windstorm in Boston. The buildings in that intersection create a horrible little microcosm of weather, and in light breeze conditions, it can feel like a hurricane in there. But since Erich had worked in the John Hancock building for a while, and it was close, I agreed, and we plodded over. The snow was piling up on the sidewalks, well over my ankles. It was swirling everywhere in the air, getting difficult to see.

But what I could see was lovely - the snow was piling into little ripples on the stone buildings, creating miniature drifts above window casings. Very lovely.

And then Erich stopped, just short of the stairs in front of the old John Hancock building.

And then suddenly, he went down on one knee.

Now - you know those cliched "and time stood still" phrases in literature? The ones you think are totally bogus?

Yeah. Well, they happen. Especially when someone proposes marriage to you, in the dark, in a blizzard, when you're the only two people for blocks in Back Bay Boston because you're the only two people stupid enough to be out in this weather.

Time stood absolutely still. I said yes, of course.

He placed the ring on my finger, and we had the quickest of kisses before time, wind, and snow came roaring back at us, forcing us to return to the warmth of the hotel, to our lucky upgraded room, as twenty more inches of snow piled through the night.

Wedding Preparation Redux

2007 was, by and large, the year that I managed to go completely insane. The vast majority of it was spent dealing with all things wedding planning. And much to my annoyance, it wound up taking up every ounce of my life that wasn't devoted to the work I had to do to pay the bills.

First thing I thought of waking up? Wedding stuff.
Last thing I thought of before falling asleep? Wedding stuff.

Two months and change post-wedding, I'm so relieved that it's not happening anymore. And other than my thank-you notes that are underway and getting whittled down... I have no other wedding stuff left-over that needs to be done.

I don't miss it. I don't wish wedding planning on anyone in the world. Because it was pure hell. My wedding day was beautiful - I had a fantastic time. But the months leading up to it were pure hell.

So when one of my friends asked for help with her wedding preparations, I felt guilty saying that no, I couldn't come to her house yesterday. This weekend was my only one in December currently not booked with something or other, and I knew I had lots to get done personally. I definitely wanted to help, particularly because she's been having a rough go at work lately. Wedding stress is just one of those things that, well, takes over.

But as it worked out, as long as I didn't have to do the traveling, I was fine. She was happy to come down to my house, and so today she did. We sat in the living room, watching the first three episodes of Doctor Who since its rebirth in 2005 (in an attempt to hook her fiance). Then we watched the first two episodes of Blackpool because Tricia, like me, is a David Tennant fan and needs to enjoy the man in all of his native Scottish accented glory, complete with scruffy five o'clock shadow and singing. David Tennant singing Kenny Roger's The Gambler into an ice cream cone microphone? Oh yes. It is awesome. I promise.

It's a shame the U.S. producers didn't just go to get permission to air Blackpool, rather than try to remake it into the tripe that became Viva Laughlin.

Anyway... the assistance Tricia needed for her wedding was folding paper cranes. She's doing the 1,000 paper cranes for good luck thing for her wedding. She's smart to be getting started now for a June wedding. :) So as we watched TV, she, her fiance, my husband, our friend Matt, and I folded cranes.

In about three hours - including breaks for food - we managed to fold 58 cranes. She now has over 200 done.

And I can fold paper cranes from memory now.

Kinda cool.

Always off-season

I'm convinced that the stores are completely out of whack with reality about the holiday season.

I know - thank you Captain obvious. Where have I been, eh?

But here's what really bothers me. The season doesn't match with the Season. It's December 1st, and at Lowes this afternoon, all Christmas ornaments were on clearance. Everything 25% off. Never mind the fact that it's still 24 days until Christmas. No. The end-of-season clearance sales now begin just as the true holiday season is just getting started.

I'm sorry. I'm not one of the crazy people who gets into the holiday spirit in... what was it... September? I think that's when the Christmas tree displays were put up at Lowes this year. Kid you not - there was the glowing beacon of Christmas spirit while the summer flowers were just beginning to fade.

Mind you - by the end of September, Halloween stuff is on clearance sale. By the week of Halloween, you can barely find bags of candy to give out. The stuff you do find is the stuff that used to rot at the bottom of the treat bags for being "sub-par." And personally, I don't want to be those neighbors who give out the crappy candy. But if I have Halloween candy in the house for more than a few days, I know I'm going to start raiding the bag. I don't want to buy it in September, guys.

And now the Christmas decorating season is on clearance on the very first day of December. How crazy has this shopping frenzy become? All I hear is the stores complaining about how hard a holiday season it's going to be. Well, rather than overpower a quarter of the year for holiday shopping, condense it, return it to the proper time of year, and possibly those of us who are tired of Halloween and Thanksgiving being speed bumps toward the shopping frenzy would return to the stores.

Worst of it is that trying to keep your business to the stores that actually do observe the proper holiday season is becoming harder to do. Most stores are taking down their holiday decorations the week before Christmas. This makes no sense to me. I mean, it's not a religious holiday to me, but it reinforces just how superficial and economy-based the celebration of the holiday has become.

Oh - and Lowes? Could you actually have the paper leaf bags in stock the week that the leaves have just fallen from the trees, rather than taking them off of the shelves as "out of season" before the leaves even turn color?

Would appreciate it.

Thanks.

Adventures in blogging

A Holidailies prompt from a couple weeks ago asked how each person got his/her start in blogging online. I'm pretty sure I told this story a couple years ago, but it's lost somewhere in the Diaryland backup of my defunct Diary-X journal...

I opened my first online blog account in 1999 on Diaryland. It was just before the turn of the new year, and like everyone else hyped up about the year 2000, I figured I'd start being good about keeping a record of my life for absolutely no reason other than to write. Three days later, I forgot about it. It sat there until I discovered it about three years later.

In the meantime, I began using a paper journal in late 2000 to vent some frustrations I was having with a friend. I found, however, that my brain was trying to rush through a lot more than my hands could keep up with... so I decided to try my computer. If I recall, I was looking for some downloadable software to make it feel more like a book as I typed on-screen. Somehow, I was led to Diary-X. I opened an account immediately and began my online journal on March 29, 2001.

In 2002, I decided to start a backup mirror of my journal on Diaryland (when I discovered my original account over there) based upon a bad experience with the owner of Diary-X on another website he was running called Nervousness.org. From that point forward, I kept an updated mirror of my journal running on both sites-- and thankfully because I did that, I didn't lose anything but unpublished drafts during the fatal Diary-X crash in early 2006.

Despite griping about it and its elitism invite-only format at the time, I gave in and joined Livejournal after attending Arisia in 2003, mostly to keep up wtih many of my friends who used the service. I never really cared for the layout of the site. The most valuable part of it to me was the friends' lists. But it was handy.

And suddenly, I was posting to three accounts at a time, which was stupid. After a few months, it was time to pare down.

Starting in 2005, I started posting at my own webspace, using Blogger as the formatting engine. Issues with both owners of Diary-X had led me to move on from the forms two months prior, and I couldn't continue to use the service in good faith due to the ethics and behavior I experienced as a customer(which turned out to be a very good choice, based on what ultimately happened to DX). With few exceptions, I've also stopped posting on LiveJournal, only popping in to catch up on friends' pages from time to time.

I kept my archive at Diaryland, although I haven't posted to the site since I stopped posting at Diary-X. It remains my journal archive for my older entries. I plan to slowly bring everything over to my personal webspace... but it takes time to go through entries, delete dead links, and add tags to the posts for archiving. It's definitely an "as I have time for it" project, which lately has been mostly non-existent.

Over the years, my blogging has recorded my entire relationship with my fiance, the adoption of four cats, two apartment moves, purchasing my first home, buying my first car, my experiences on 9/11, a big job move, and all of the little stuff in-between. It transitions between triteness and deep thought, almost always written freeform with little editing (I prefer "raw" writing). I can see how I've changed and how I've stayed the same as I look back through my archives. It's a good thing-- I'm glad I found the outlet online. :)

Addictions not needed

So for the past three hours, I've had the Doctor Who theme stuck in my head. Add to that a rather late night (*shitfaced grin inserted here*), and I'm a tad cranky this morning. More tired than cranky, actually. And I'm definitely NOT interested in having the Doctor Who theme whistling through my brain all day.

But I have a feeling it's here to stay today. I'm the only admin at work today. No one to chat with to take my mind away. More than likely, not a lot of work to divert my concentration, either.

Dammit.

The problem is, I know exactly why it's here, too. The 2nd season finale of the show was on Friday night, and despite being a very casual viewer of the show... I was roped in, and then VERY PISSED OFF at the ending (in both a good and bad way). Then my brain, being pissed off, kept mulling it, kept thinking about it... and then we watched it again on Christmas Day with Erich's dad and Matt... and then it firmly stuck.

Crap. I really don't want to start mulling a show over again and getting addicted to it. I thought I'd learned my lesson after nine years of the X-Files, seven years of Star Trek:TNG. Getting invested in characters, begrudgingly (and then not so begrudgingly) getting interested in fanfic.

What is it about Sci-Fi, anyway? Despite watching a lot of the series, I don't get addicted to Law & Order like this. What the hell?

*sigh*

In any case, share my pain-- get the Doctor Who theme stuck in your head for a while.

Grrrr....

The Evolution of Christmas

Luminaries
Originally uploaded by measi.

The weather outside belies the fact that it's Christmas Eve-- it's sunny. The grass on our lawn is still half green. It's surprisingly mild out. Two nights ago, we slept all night with the windows wide open. In December. In freaking New England.

So I admit that I just don't feel like I'm in the holiday spirit this year. It feels like Easter, to be honest. Yet here we are, the day before Christmas. Granted, Christmas hasn't been a religious holiday for me for over a decade now. But I still view it as a separate holiday from Yule and still important to me. Yule is for personal reflection. It's a quiet spiritual retreat. Often I celebrate it in little moments throughout the day-- even in the middle of holiday parties where I'm surrounded by coworkers or friends. Christmas, on the other hand, I see as a celebration of community. For me, it's not just the 25th-- the 24th was always more important to my family. So now Christmas has evolved into a two day celebration of love and connection with others. I honestly need people around me at Christmas.

As a child, Christmas Eve began with two yearly traditions. The first was the luminaries that every house in our neighborhood used to display on Christmas eve. The day before Christmas Eve- my father would grab his wheelbarrow (on snowless years) or empty white buckets left over from the pool chlorine and head up to the northern street of our neighborhood to get a hefty amount of sand, candles, and paper lunch bags. He'd then come home, bring my brother and I into his workshop, and we'd help him pour a measured portion of sand into each bag. Then we'd help him carry them and place them along our property-- one would help with the bags. The other would place a candle into the center of each bag. And my father would finally follow, adjusting the spacing and lighting the bags just before nightfall. On Christmas Eve, no one in our neighborhood would turn on their Christmas lights (other than the tree inside). Only the luminaries lit up the night. Every house had them, lining the gutters along every property line, creating a candlelit runway (which was my parents original explanation... we were creating a runway for Santa to come).

The other happened at six o'clock exactly every Christmas Eve. Dinners were planned to make sure the kids were all outside about five minutes before to witness Santa flying around Billings on his sleigh. It was a fantastic sight-- he'd make two huge circles around Billings so all of the children could see that he'd be coming that night... and then would disappear (we children presumed he was heading elsewhere to show other kids he was coming, too). In reality, Santa was a big wire framed light display, hooked onto the side of a helicopter. It was one family's treat for the city every year.

Still this year, I'm finding it very hard to get in the spirit. Something's not right... and I think my blaming the weather is just a cop-out.

Maybe it's because I have an itch to fill luminaries...

Points with the fiance

I just became the best fiancee in the world-- Erich has a gleaming new XBox360. :)

This was a Christmas present that he knew he was getting. He doesn't know what games he's getting yet-- those will be under the tree on Monday morning. But in the meantime, he can play Halo and any of his other XBox games (of which I don't think there are many... he just plays a LOT of Halo online with the guys...).

The reason he got it early was because I traded in his old XBox and his Gamecube toward the purchase of the new system-- with his blessing. He bundled everything up for me this morning. But he realized over the course of the day that his XBox Live account would still be on the old box. To make sure everything was transferred safely, I gave it to him tonight.

(talk about acting like a kid in a candy store... he even did that excited little bodance)

It was a good day overall. I dropped Erich off at the commuter train this morning, and then went about enjoying the first day of my four day weekend. I have all but one gift bought. I just need to wrap presents, but I won't do that until Sunday morning-- with five cats who are in love with playing under the tree, wrapping paper would be shredded by Monday. So for now, things are tucked away.

Tomorrow morning I'll finish writing out my cards and get them dropped off at the post office. They're all going to points in the USA, so hopefully they'll arrive by New Year's at this point. *sigh* Still, it's better than some years, where I'm debating whether I'm just entirely too late and then just don't wind up sending them at all.

My hopes for a snowy Christmas are completely gone. We're going to have an Easter-like Christmas this year in New England, complete with April showers tonight through tomorrow. It's supposed to be about 50 degrees on Christmas Day. Global warming? Never heard of it. Maybe we'll grill ribs for Christmas dinner this year. :)

Thursday Thirteen #15: Holiday Movies

Blessed Yule, all! :)

My original plan for this week's T13 was to share thirteen of my favorite ornaments on our tree, but I tend to misplace things-- and my digital camera has gone on walkabout for the week. I figure it disappeared on vacation before the craziness of the holidays.

So instead, I'm using yesterday's Holidailies prompt about required seasonal movies... Here are thirteen that I think are requied viewing sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas Day.



Thirteen Required Holiday Movies



1. A Christmas Story- Not to difficult to find the past few years, is it? But seriously, it was an instant classic, even if it did take the world several years to discover this sleeper hit. Fah-rah-rah-rah-rah...

2. A Charlie Brown Christmas- How many things about Christmas, both good and bad, are summed up here? And the music? It's not Christmas until I hear that soft jazz of the Charlie Brown special float from my TV speakers.

3. Home Alone- This was overplayed for a few years and I got sick of it. But I found myself watching it a couple weeks ago and enjoying it once again. But the mystery still remains- what boy would ever clean up that mess? And how would he really get it all cleaned up so quickly? (but forget to fix the shelves in his brother's room...)

4. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer- Remember how tragic it was if you missed the airing of Rudolph in any year? It was only shown ONCE per season, and as a child, it often wound up being on the night I had dance class. Thank goodness for the Betamax and later the VCR.

5. Emmet Otter's Jug-Band Christmas- I haven't seen this in years and I don't think it's well-known anymore, but it was one of my favorites as a child. It was a sweet story about a little otter who wanted to make Christmas special for his mother. He and friends want to compete in a talent contest as a jug band. But in order to enter, he'd have to ruin the washtub that his mother uses to make all of the money their family has. At the same time, Ma Otter has a similar idea to make Christmas special for her son by entering the same contest.

6. The Nutcracker- There are a dozen versions of the Nutcracker out there, but the one I always watched as a child- and still prefer today-is the 1977 version with Mikhail Baryshnikov, broadcast every year on PBS among their year-end fundraising drives... By the end, I was usually twirling along with the Flowers. :)

7. How the Grinch Stole Christmas- The original Dr. Seuss version. Still blows Jim Carrey out of the water, in much less than half the time. :)

8. It's a Wonderful Life- It's funny, but I always prefer to watch this after Christmas, but before New Year's. It's so heartwarming at the end-- the perfect way to ring in a new year.

9. Moonstruck- Not usually thought of as a holiday movie... but the references are quietly in the background everywhere. The decorations, the first snowflakes of winter, the connection and celebration of family... it's a story of falling in love over the holidays, and love her or hate her, Cher is absolutely stunning when she meets with Nicolas Cage in front of the Met. Each time I watch it, I'm just a bit older... and I "get" more of the jokes.

10. Mickey's Christmas Carol- My favorite version of the classic... :)

11. A Mom for Christmas- It's actually a very corny movie. But it came out the year after my parents were divorced, and it was just the sappiness that my teenager heart needed. And I was (and still am) a big ONJ fan.

12. Miracle on 34th Street- Again-original version. It's never, ever Christmas without watching this. :)

13. Rudolph's Shiny New Year- This one's always been a bit more obscure, but it always signified the LAST holiday special of the season. I always got a kick out of Happy and his big ears... and loved how they visualized the progression of Time...







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Aaaaaaand... the pace picks up

It's been a very, VERY busy couple of days at work. I'm thankful I started during a slow couple of weeks, otherwise I would have gone insane yesterday and today. The admin department has had more individual projects brought our way in the past two days than in the past week and a half combined.

If I hadn't had the time to learn how to format the different styles of documents at a more relaxed pace, I would have really been freaking out today. Gah.

But all is well, and I continue to do very well here. I've been getting a lot of compliments about my work and my attitude, which is great to hear. I already feel like I've been here forever, and it's only actually been less than a month.

Tomorrow's the office party at a nearby pub. Then I have Friday off as part of my holiday weekend, in which I'll celebrate Yule and get the rest of my Christmas shopping done (whee... Multi-Holiday-Tasking!) It should be a fun, relaxing holiday weekend. Our friend Matt confirmed that he'll be coming down on Sunday to spend the two days. Erich's dad will also be coming down, but I don't know his schedule.

Perhaps tonight I'll be able to write the two entries I've actually been working on (as opposed to free-versing). It would be nice to use them to catch up on my Holidailies count. :)

Sending out the cards

With the exception of family, all of my cards are done. I need one more book of stamps, and I'll have the last batch out at lunchtime.

How is it that I always wait until the last minute to send these things? And why is it that I feel more inclined to send holiday greetings to complete strangers from my internet travels, rather than send them to my own family?

Is it because I see my family as stability- that they'll always be there? Do I take them for granted? Or do I just find more satisfaction spreading cheer through cards to random people than I do for the people I know and love, who know that I love them.

There's a weird disconnect here, and it's annoying me today.

I have a couple meaty entries in progress... but have some work to get done. Hopefully I can actually get my thoughts to make sense later today.

Holidailies Recipe Swap: The Turkey

I made this turkey for Thanksgiving for the past two years... and have had a lot of email & comment questions about it...

So, as a response to a Holidailies prompt, here's the recipe for the turkey. This is based upon the recipe from Alton Brown's Good Eats. I highly recommend it-- you'll get an exceptionally juicy turkey-- even when it's a few days old and has been in the fridge!

15-20 lbs turkey
1 gallon vegetable stock
1 gallon water
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 cup kosher salt
Peel of one navel orange.
1 tablespoon whole allspice
1 tablespoon whole black peppercorns
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
1 tablespoon dried thyme
Canola oil
One can chicken broth (optional)
1 large red apple, quartered
2 medium white onions, quartered
2 cinnamon sticks
2 sprigs of rosemary
2 sprigs fresh thyme (optional)

In a large pot stir together the stock, water, brown sugar, salt, all spice, black pepper, cinnamon, orange peel, and thyme. Bring to a boil, turn to medium heat and let simmer for 5 minutes. Remove from heat and cool completely. (this will take a while-- give yourself at least 3 hours before the next step).

Place the turkey in a clean 5 gallon bucket and pour the brine over it. Cover and let sit over night. Flip the turkey in the morning, a few hours before cooking. Remove it from the brine, rinse it gently to remove any excess salt, pat dry and place it in its baking pan. Rub the entire bird liberally with canola oil.

In a small microwave-safe bowl, place the red, onions, cinnamon sticks, and rosemary (and/or fresh thyme). Sprinkle with about 1/4 cup water and microwave on high for 7 minutes.

Place the apple, onions, cinnamon sticks, and thyme or rosemary inside the turkey cavity. If desired. place a long stalk of rosemary resting along each leg for additional flavor.

Preheat oven to 500F. Roast the turkey for 30 minutes until it gets a golden brown color. Turn heat down to 350F. Tent a piece of tin foil over the breast of the turkey. Add can of chicken broth to the bottom of the roasting pan (for help making gravy from drippings). Bake for 2 1/2-3 hours more or until the turkey has reached an internal temperature of 161F.

Remove turkey form the oven and allow to sit for 20 minutes or so before carving.

It's what date?

Ah yes, I'm alive! I know I was silent for a few days... I'm sorry. Insomnia kicked my ass last Wednesday night, carried through Thursday night, and by Friday I had a massive fatigue headache. It was bad enough that we had to cancel going to a friend's holiday party that night because I was just fighting to stay upright. Headache meds barely touched my pain... so it was a night to stay home. I was in bed (not exactly asleep... but pseudo-conscious) by ten.

Errands kicked off Saturday, in which we had a fabulous lunch of messy subs at Quiznos, followed by a trip to the liquor store that always has cops directing traffic. Seriously-- what could be so fantastic about a liquor store? Well... this one had EVERYTHING and then some. We now understand. Fruity drinky things (Smirnoff Ice drinks), fixings for blueberry cobbler martinis (including graham cookie rimmer), and 3 bottles of mead later, we understand the attraction to this place. For the basics, we'll hit the one close to home. But for those serious shopping trips, we know where to go.

The traffic getting there was hellish, due to the road layout. I think every single moderate-sized city has one of Those Roads. You know-- the ones that have every. single. commercial. property. on them. Everything. Two lanes on each side with the left turn lane in the middle (often sans lights, which means you sit there forever). The traffic is crawling because everything's so close together and everyone's out shopping. I wouldn't doubt that half of the population of Rhode Island was on Route 2 in Cranston/Warwick on Saturday. It's not like anyone in the state lives all that far away from it. But we survived, got our booze, and headed home.

On Saturday night, we drove up to Brighton, Mass in the neighborhood I used to live in during my final years at BU. Michelle and Maria, two of my sorority sisters, threw a holiday party. It was a nice little intimate gathering with lots of food & drink. We had a great time. I want Michelle to come decorate my tree next year-- or at least do my lights- because I clearly am not a master of tree lighting. I'm in envy. Anyway, in true collegiate fashion, the party went into the wee hours of the morning. Erich and I crawled into bed around 4:15 or so. We were not happy when Noby and Gus informed us just before 9 a.m. that we really needed to get out of bed because we were stealing their morning sunbeams.

Sunday was an amazingly warm day (as it has been recently) in the mid 50's. We took advantage of the sunshine in the morning and put up our Christmas lights outside. We were late in buying them-- so we're one of Those Houses this year. The front steps look pretty- we wrapped the two front columns in some lovely sheer red ribbon so each pillar looks like a candy cane. But our lights on the bushes are a little scary. Eh... 'tis the season. We put up lights. We're festive. :) Next year we'll improve on them.

So as I got up this morning, I realized that maybe I should get some shopping done.. since Christmas is a week away. Eep. Guess I know what I'm doing in the evenings this week!

- Mel.

Thursday Thirteen #14: Fun Addresses

For the past couple years, I've involved myself in some seasonal card exchanges-- it's always nice to receive some friendly cheer in the mailbox among the bills. :)

This year, I'm writing out a bunch of cards-- and I've come across some names of streets or towns that just strike me as interesting, unusual, cool-- or strange... all in a good way. :) So I'm sharing a few of them (no person's name attached) as this week's Thursday Thirteen:

Thirteen Interesting Addresses 1. Olive Branch, Mississippi - The name of the town just makes me think of "Old South..." one of those quiet little towns with live oaks draped in Spanish Moss. I'm probably completely wrong about the image... but that's what it makes me picture. :) 2. Cricklewood Drive - Is it a sound that the wood makes? Wood doesn't crinkle... but I guess it must be close. 3. Dyngley Close - It just sounds amusing to me. Dyngley... Granted, I'm pronouncing it "Ding-ley." Maybe it's "Dighn-ley" and I'm just being a stupid Yank. 4. Little Deer Isle - I really want to know how it got that name. It's in Maine. Which means there's a story behind it-- because everything has a story behind it in Mane. :) Next time I'm up there, I may just have to investigate. 5. Knotts Landing Drive - Wasn't this a TV show? 6. King James Way - based on where this is located, I wonder if it's in relation to anything to colonial Jamestown... 7. Fire Trail Road - again... is there history behind this? 8. Snoqualmie - I love funky town names. Native American influenced, I imagine? 9. Atascadero - One of the things that always amuses me about California is the Spanish (or Spanish sounding) town names. I honestly wonder how many are real, and how many are just sounds thrown to gether to sound Californian. :) 10. Pacific Avenue - located in a town that is over a thousand miles from the Pacific Ocean... 11. Manassas - Manassas, Virginia... I always envision molasses. 12. Lolita Street - The young girls on this street are probably kept on the straight and narrow by their parents, no? :) Still... I'd love to say I lived on Lolita Street... with a bat of the eyes, of course. 13. Babbling Creek Place - Is it accurately describing the road? Is it by a babbling creek? Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

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The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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SBQ catch-up

So I figured... hey, I have some quiet time. Let me catch up on the couple of Stitching Blogger Questions I've missed... and eep! There are nine of them.

Where has this year gone?

In any case, here's my catch-up!

9/28/06- When you find yourself making a lot of mistakes in various stitching projects do you find it better to muddle your way through or do you take a brief break from stitching? If you do take a break, how long do you take?

I usually muddle through, but I will take a break from the project with which I seem to be having difficulty. If it's just a row or two of miscounts, I'll just pick them out and redo. If it's something god-awful, then I do a ceremonious hoop toss across the room (no... really), unhoop the project, and move onto the next in my rotation.

Granted-- it all depends on my general life state, too. Lately, anything that stressed me out was just punted away for a while.

10/11/06- As we all know, stitching in the winter can really be rough on the hands. What do you do to treat your hands well in the cold winter months? Do you have any suggestions for creams or soaps? Or perhaps a special regimen that you would like to share?

I'll confess- I have none. I'm horrendously rough on my hands, and generally hate the feeling of creams or lotions. I've had friends recommend ones that they claim are great, non-greasy, "soak right in," etc... and I just hate them. The only lotion I generally use at all is the Aveeno oatmeal stuff that comes in a big tub-- it works well on my skin when I'm sensing I'm close to a hives outbreak. Otherwise, I'd much rather deal with dry skin than lotion.

10/18/06- Which way do you stitch, i.e. do you stitch /// followed by \\\ on top, or the other way around \\\ followed by ///? Are you left- or right-handed and do you think that this affects the way that you stitch?

I'm right-handed, but I don't think it affects the way I stitch. I've actually switched directions-- as a child, I stitched every-which way (because I didn't know better). As I started figuring out that they should all face one direction, I stitched \\\ then ///. When I picked it back up in college, somehow I switched to the other direction, /// followed by \\\. My guess is that I probably was thinking about what I was supposed to use, saw the diagram on a chart I was stitching from, and it said to stitch that direction. I stitch /// \\\ on all of my projects currently.

10/25/06 - If you were to come across a sampler chart that caught your eye and
appealed to you, would you or would you not stitch it if it had a
morbid or "creepy" saying on it? If not, why?

To be honest, I find almost all of the samplers that have sayings a bit creepy. Some are downright morbid. I guess it really depends on how weirded out I am. Some of the replica samplers from the 17th and 18th centuries can get VERY morbid. I still would love to try stitching them because of the historial aspect, though. So I guess my answer is yes, I'd still stitch it. Justifying the expense is another matter...

11/1/06 - How did you decide on the title of your stitching blog? Was it random,
or does it have a special meaning to you or about you?

It's dull and boring, I admit. I've never really been... happy... with it. I just never put the energy into a better title. (should I open this up for a debate? Start the new year with a new title?)

11/8/06 - How many different brands of "complete" embroidery floss sets do you own? How do you keep track of it? (i.e., spread sheet program, index cards, palm pilot, etc.)

None. I have a pretty good collection of DMC standard thread, but it's definitely not complete. I also have a decent collection of Dinky Dyes and Sampler overdyed threads, but not complete. I don't have any method of tracking it-- the different kinds are kept together, but that's about it. When I have to gather threads for a new pattern, I go to the overflow box first, then purchase anything missing from the overflow. As I finish projects, I put the remainders back in the overflow (unless there's really none to speak of).

11/16/06 - Do you stitch Christmas ornaments? If so, how many do you stitch each year and for whom? If not, why not?

I have not stitched any ornaments to date, but I do have some that I want to do. With the exception of perhaps my mom or Erich's mom, I would only stitch them for our tree, so I can do them on my own time.

11/29/06 - How do you secure your thread when you begin a new one? Specifically,
do you or have you ever used a waste knot?

I don't use waste knots-- I was taught to never, ever knot the thread (and to this day, I feel guilty knotting my backstitching thread, but can't figure out how else to secure it). If I'm stitching with a single color, I use one strand, fold it in half, and then loop through to start it. If I'm stitching with two colors at once, I just pull the thread through until I have about a five or six stitch-long tail, and stitch over the tail.

If I had to write one...

Thankfully, my family isn’t very big on the generic holiday letters. I do receive them occasionally from friends who haven’t been able to stay in touch due to their busy lives. I admit to having sent them to penpals on occasion, particularly during college, because I just couldn’t keep up with everyone. Generally, though, I’d rather just receive a little email from someone, rather than the “INSERT NAME HERE” mailmerge that often times isn’t even merged. They’re so dry, and despite my writing skills—I can’t make them sound interesting. They’re just… impersonal. Feh. But I guess that’s what makes holiday letters so uniquely un-unique.

However, in the spirit of Holidailies, here’s what I would write if I had to send a generic letter out for this year…

Dear INSERT NAME HERE,

Hey there! Happy INSERT APPROPRIATE HOLIDAY HERE! I hope that this card and letter find you and your family in good health and happiness. Hopefully you’re getting a bit more of a holiday-like December than we are here. It’s been in the low 40s to mid 50s since early December, and both Erich and I are wondering whether we’re looking at Christmas or at Memorial Day as the next upcoming holiday.

I’m sorry for not keeping in touch this year. It’s been horrendously hectic here. Thankfully, though, it’s ended up being a pretty good year despite some large bumps and bruises along the way.

We’ve been to five weddings this year. The first two had us traveling to new and exciting places- first to San Diego in April for my friend Melinda & her (now) husband, Kevin. Then in June, we headed to the Bahamas with the majority of our college crew for a week for Seth (who I used to refer to as Carge in college) and Gina’s wedding. The last four were thankfully closer to home- Frank and Teresa in August, Erin and Marc in October, and Dennis and Lisa in November.

All the while we realized that we really should start planning our wedding, considering that out of that group, only Seth & Gina had been engaged for longer than us. In September, my mother came up for what I now refer to as the “wedding crasher weekend,” where we managed to pick my date, pick a place, pick a caterer, and buy my dress in two days. ? The official date is September 23, 2007. I haven’t started to freak out yet, but probably will starting in April or so when I realize I really need to get stuff done. You know me—procrastinator? Nah… never. ?

On the sadder side, Erich lost his two remaining grandparents this year. His paternal grandmother died in early summer after a long illness. His maternal grandfather died suddenly in September. I never had the chance to meet his grandmother, but did meet his grandfather last year. I can only hope to live to 90 years and still have four close friends by my side.

Erich’s mom has been ill or in recovery for a good portion of this year. She broke her leg in late spring and has been in and out of a rehabilitation home due to complications that occurred with her diabetes. She seems to be in better spirits now that she’s able to go home once per week for the day. We’re hoping that she’ll be able to go home for good within the next few weeks—and then hopefully get up to see her, as she didn’t want visitors while she was in recovery.

Being homeowners has been great so far. We’ve now been in the house for over 18 months, and have really only had one major repair so far that needed immediate attention- the roof over the sunroom. We had a bad leak during one of the many severe rainstorms. We do have to replace the plaster on the ceiling and take a look in the nearby wall to seek out any internal damage to the house, but we’ve at least solved the leak problem. We haven’t done much else to the house yet—I’m hoping to be able to get wallpaper down in at least a couple rooms and repaint by the time the wedding comes around.

After six years at OLDCOMPANY, I decided it was time for a big change. In late November, I began a new job at NEWCOMPANY, doing similar work to what I did before. But the switch in industries and surroundings have been wonderful. I already feel like I’ve been here for a long time (except for still not having faces stick with names). I’m still commuting to Boston, but Erich and I can make the commute together. It’s not that bad with the two of us.

That’s about all for here. Please drop me an email at ADDRESS HERE, and I’ll make a point to stay better in touch next year. I’m sure I have your email somewhere, but you know me—always disorganized. Much love to NAME, NAME, and OTHERNAME.

Love,

Mel (and Erich)

Being a "macoddity"

My new job is going well so far. I'm settling in, and for the most part am finding my way around both the style guidelines that I need to follow and finding my way around the office. I still don't know most people's names, but some are starting to stick. I know that will happen with time.

I did find it amusing that the very night I go out with my old workmates last week for drinks - something I wound up having to avoid doing while I was working at that job due to false accusations about not putting in the correct number of hours - I get both a phone call and an email from my old boss asking me to come in to help in the evenings, since they still haven't hired a new admin. Never mind the fact that I made that offer twice before I left the job and didn't get an answer one way or the other until I contacted my boss during the last day that I was there to see what I should do about my ID and such on my way out the door. She said she'd get in contact with the internal temp agency to send me paperwork-- which wasn't done until the same day she called me last week. It takes three weeks to do that? Sounds like... exactly the kind of crap that I put up with for years.

My guess is that it finally hit that I did, in fact, do a crapload of work at that job. Now no one's there to do the work, and the shit is finally hitting the fan. Which makes me sad in some ways because I do care for the majority of the people I used to work with, and I don't want their lives to be hellish at work because there's no admin there. But then again, with the exception of only a few people... I never felt like I was supported. Appreciation was uncommon. Civility became uncommon over the last four months. I was always fighting from a corner, always on my own, and always at the bottom of the barrel where all of the shit flowed. It made me horribly depressed, both at work and away from it. I really was just going through the motions of life for the past year, trying to survive until my wedding so I could leave. In the end, I just couldn't push myself to endure all of the bullshit. I was sick of going home in tears, crying to Erich about how I just couldn't understand why it had to be this way. But in the end, it just... did. My manager played a lousy hand, and I called the bluff by getting a new job.

Since the week of Thanksgiving, I've realized just how bad my mental state really was at that job. As soon as I got the call last week, I started feeling the anxiety and the panic about dealing with her all over again. I think that was the wake-up call sign about what I should do, not to mention some strong doubts about how this really would work out, and how long in reality such a position would last. I mean-- I gave my notice well over a month ago, and they haven't hired even a temp to come in? Let's just say that I'm not exactly trusting that this would be a temporary position. I'm already trained to do the job. I forsee that I'd be getting dumped with the work for a long time to come-- only this time with no bennies.

Thankfully, I can honestly say that my new job is keeping me too busy. I've stayed late over half of the days I've been working there so far. It's the start of one of the busier seasons in my new industry, and lots of projects are needed to go out the door ASAP. I couldn't guarantee steady hours over there even if I wanted to-- which I honestly don't.

It's great to feel wanted, and that the work that I do is valued-- but in this case, it was way too little, way too late. I've moved on to much better things, and I don't regret it for a single second.



(title reference comes from a rather... odd... cartoon short here. Funny... with some great one-liners that have become very common in our gaming group.)

Cat-tastic Entry #2: Mephista

Fizzy
Originally uploaded by measi.

So... cat entry #2 is on Mephista, more commonly known as Fizzy.

Fizzy is our littlest cat-- she's all of 7.25 pounds. She appears black in person and in photos, but when the sun shines on her, she's actually a mink brown tabby (with very narrow stripes from head to the tip of her tail). She has one small white stripe of fur on her belly, white fur protecting her ears and a stray white hair here and there all over her coat. Her eyes are pale yellow. Her whiskers, nose, and paw pads are all black. She's five years old and the princess of the household. She needs to know what's going on at all times, but never really wants to be bothered. She is a human's cat, but not a cat's cat. She does NOT play, thank you very much. And don't dare pick her up-- unless you're wearing a full body suit of kevlar. Those claws will be digging firmly into the nearest body part if you try to remove her from solid ground.

Fizzy came to us in August 2001 as the second cat in the household. I'd started dating Erich only three months before. My first cat, Colley, was forced to be home alone more and more, and it was causing some temperment problems because he was so lonely. We decided to start looking for a cat (preferably one of the many "free to a good home" cats) to keep him company.

In early August, I was reading one of the many internet listservs that I belonged to. A woman and her husband belonged to a group that trapped, spayed and released the stray cats that lived around the Yard at Harvard University. One of the cats they'd caught was pregnant, so they waited for the cat to have kittens-- then posted the kittens on the listserv. If I recall correctly, they were a mix of black and grey cats. Some were polydactyl. We asked for a black poly-toed kitten, but by the time we'd replied, they'd been spoken for. They did have a very small kitten (of undetermined sex), however... were we interested?

We said yes, and planned to meet them later in the week at the T stop at Harvard Square. When we got there, Fizzy was latched in a little ball to the woman's shirt (I'm sure the sounds of the MBTA station were scaring the crap out of her). We exchanged the kitten-- Fizzy immediately clung onto my shirt just below my chin and nuzzled there. We managed to detach her and get her into Colley's carrier, wished the couple well and headed back to my apartment on the train.

My long-time readers will remember Fizzy as the cat that confused both Erich and me when she was a kitten. For the first six months, we thought Fizzy was male-- and so "his" full name was Mephisto. That changed during the appointment to have "him" neutered. So... a quick change of name, and Mephisto became an -a. :)

Fizzy definitely seems relieved that we finally clued into the obvious. She was rather dainty from the start, but we are stupid humans, after all. She got back to us by informing me for well over a year that Erich was HER human. She'd nip at his heels as he went from the bathroom to the bedroom after a shower, as well as perch and prance on all of his clothes for him, vying for his attention.

From the start, Colley was extremely gentle with Fizzy. They played together, and Fizzy would flip over on her back and profess how Huge and Vicious (tm) she was by splaying her claws and opening her mouth to show her tiny pointed teeth. This usually confused Colley, who would just stare at her and blink. It was quite cute. :)

Fizzy also imprinted on Colley- until she was nearly a year old, she would "nurse" on Colley. Granted, I was a bit concerned about my older neutered male cat and his gender issues... but he seemed okay with it. To this day, Fizzy will come and nuzzle on Colley for comfort.

Fizzy has the distinction of being the first cat I ever had who retained all of her claws. My parents, coming from both a generation and a social circle who found it acceptable to do front declaws on cats, had always had them declawed. But Fizzy quickly learned how to behave from Colley (who was declawed by my mother before I got him) and never was destructive. I might add that we've never declawed any of the cats since. Each of them has learned from the one before in some way or another, and we don't have that many problems with scratching.

Anyway... getting back to Fizzy...

She's the most high-strung of all of our cats. She tends to hide out when there's a lot of commotion. She's always been a "quiet" cat. She likes quiet places, and loves to perch. She gets frightened and anxious easily. For example, when we moved into our house last year, the stress of moving caused her to have a bout of temporary alopecia. She lost most of the fur on the backs of her hind legs, plus a huge spot on her chest, mostly due to overgrooming from the stress. Thankfully it grew back after a few months (but we were very concerned).

She doesn't like to play-- her least favorite cat is Gus, who has constantly taunted her since he was a kitten. He often wants to wrestle with her-- and pounces her, causing her to scream and hiss as if she were being killed. It's... unpleasant to listen to. Thankfully she's now found spots where she can relax undisturbed. And we also have Noby and Elly to keep Gus busy.

But aside from her aloofness, she is a loving cat one on one. Last night and this morning, for example, she was extremely cuddly. She perched on my shoulder a lot last night as I played computer games. This morning she weaved around both of our heads in bed, purring as we gave her little back scratches.

She's the fearless cat in our group as far as food goes. Her biggest craving is cheese (and not the "real" cheese, either). I found this out when she was a few months old. She would steal pieces of the Hamburger helper or Mac & Cheese that I'd be having for dinner at the time. She LOVED the powdered cheese... and would eat the pasta, too.

I can't fathom how she stays so small with such a love of junk food. :)

Big stitching update & goals

I never updated my goals at the beginning of the month, due to all of the craziness that resulted from starting my new job. Here's where I'm at, and where I'm looking to go, both in December and for 2007.

In November, I wanted to..

1) Complete my portion for Autumn's flower RR done!
2) Finish Home is Where the Cat Is nope... still not done. *sigh*
3) Complete 20 hours on Goldie's UFO RR piece done and mailed.
4) Work 10 hours on Apache I did around five...
5) Cook a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner and enjoy the day with family and friends. definitely done!

So for December, I want to...

1) Finish Home is where the Cat Is... seriously, this time.
2) Complete my flower on Linda's piece for Flower RR
3) Work 10 hours on Gina's piece for UFO RR
4) Finish the sunset & tree band on Apache Wedding Blessing.
5) Put together my stitching plan for 2007.


I had a good year stitching, although I didn't finish any of my stitching goals for 2006. :) They were (just for the record...)

- Finish two TW's I finished one, and another is now moving as part of the UFO RR.
- Complete both Wedding Samplers About 50% on one, haven't started the other. Should be done with #1 over the winter.
- Complete 5 other pieces (any size) I finished one other piece this year. The TW finish took more time than I expected.

For 2007, I hope to do the following:

Finishes
----------
Apache Wedding Blessing (sometime during the winter)
Teresa Wentzler's Floral Bellpull (traveling in the UFO RR currently)
Cats on Staircase stocking
Dragon Dream's elemental dragons still remaining: Spirit, Air, Water, and Earth

Starts
----------
Dragon Dream's Wedding Blessing
(Either) Spring or Autumn Queen
Why I Love New England
One Cat Leads to Another...

I know that keeping a solid rotation is going to be difficult the closer I get to my wedding in September, but I see stitching as my release from the planning stress! :) So I'll do the best I can.

Thursday Thirteen #13: Redux Entry

It's my 13th edition of the Thursday Thirteen. I really wanted to find something witty, but my brain has fried. :( So instead, I bring you to thirteen years ago, December 7, 1993.

Thirteen Things about Measi, Thirteen years ago 1. I was 18 years old. 2. I was a freshman at Boston University, planning on majoring in journalism but not allowed to declare it for three more semesters. 3. Classes for the semester had ended, and I was prepping for my first round of collegiate final exams (complete with the infamous blue books). 4. I was a new pledge to Tau Beta Sigma, having joined the organization through Concert Band. I knew absolutely nobody in the organization, but liked the idea of a sorority of bandswomen. Miracle of miracles, they accepted me. It was after I became a pledge that I began participating in Pep and Marching Band at B.U. 5. I wore size 14 clothes. (I'm now in a 24/26 *sob*) 6. I'd gotten a perm over Thanksgiving at my grandparents' house -- I recall it specifically because I had perfect little loose ringlets all winter. It was the last perm I ever had (to the present day). 7. My mom still lived in California at that time, so I spent Thanksgiving with my grandparents in Pennsylvania. They were my closest relatives to where I was attending school. (My mom moved to PA to be closer to my grandparents about a year and a half later). 8. I had just returned from my first ever trip to New York City. I went with a dorm floor mate who grew up in the Boston metro area and his mom. We took a bus to NYC, saw the Radio City Christmas Spectacular (the live nativity actually brought me to tears), went skating at Rockefeller Center, and got our pictures taken with Santa at Saks Fifth Avenue. 9. I lived in Warren Towers, which is a monster of a building on Commonwealth Avenue in Boston-- 1,500+ students in one dorm. My room was a standard double on the northwest corner of C tower, 13th floor. I never saw my roommate, Kathy, again after freshman year. 10. That December was the start of one of the snowiest winters in Boston-- over 100 inches fell in the city that winter. Coming from the eastern side of the Rockies (where the storms fizzled out before reforming over the Plains), I'd never seen so much snow at once. 11. I didn't yet know any of the people I now consider my college buddies. I didn't meet Ivanna until the next year (even though she's older than me), and everyone else was at least a year behind me in school. 12. I had a twice monthly excursion to all of the following places: Salem, Mass. (Pagan browsing), Tower Records (@ the corner of Mass Ave. and Newbury Street), India Quality restaurant (at its original location in Kenmore Square), Pandemonium Books & Games (at *its original location in Harvard Square over the German restaurant), the Harvard Coop (for no reason...except it was near Pandy), Arsenic & Old Lace (Pagan store formerly at Mass Ave between Harvard and Porter Squares), and Gypsy Moon (funky fantasy clothing store across the street from Arsenic). 13. I had never played any Dungeons & Dragons or any other role-playing game at that point. :)

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The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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Geek Week

The Heart of Hakkar
Originally uploaded by measi.

While a mild-mannered administrative assistant at work, I tend to fall into pure geekdom mode once I get home. Weekends generally have some sort of a Dungeons & Dragons-esque game going on- not always one I'm personally participating in, but as we have a house where there are no kids that need quiet time after a particular hour, nor time limits to wrap up due to parking restrictions in the neighborhood, plus a good amount of room (and an accessible grill for making food), it often takes place at our place anyway.

On top of that, there are nightly excursions in the World of Warcrackcraft, where Erich and I play - together - while sitting in our own offices. It's silly and odd, but we do have a good time running around together and causing general mayhem.

Last week, however, was a "beat the game patch" week, where we were constantly playing the same game within the game (Alterac Valley, for those in the know) so I could get some nifty items that would be lost with the patch, due to some major changes in how the game fuctions (it was a large patch-- about 450 megs worth). For a straight week, we got home, we turned on the computers, we'd play WoW for about four to five hours, and then go to bed.

If you've seen the recent World of Warcraft South Park episode? Yeah... it was kind of like that. (sheepish) What can I say? I can be a truly pathetic lifeless loser when I need want to be.

I have to admit- I didn't understand the addiction to these online games before I played WoW. I've known several people who were addicted to Everquest when it was at its peak popularity. I've lost friends (and my fiance) to hours of Halo Online. Even when I started playing WoW, I thought it was okay-- a bit cartoonish, a little cheesy. But the detail in the game was so cool. Plus I didn't have to rely on others to play-- if I wasn't in the mood to do XYZ, I could just go run around and explore for a while. Friends who had moved to other states also played, so we could still hang out and goof off together.

In late summer, Erich (alter ego Abudiabudie... because he wants to annoy everyone who tries to spell the damn thing) and I (alter ego Tennetty) joined a guild called Burrito Bandits on our server. They're a fun-loving, wide age range bunch who just like to have a good time. Conversation on the text channel and our audio channel tends to be quite silly. We work well together as a group on some of the more challenging high-level dungeons (which require 20 or 40 people on a team).

It's 21st century social networking at its finest. :)

Commuting is (not) fun!

Ah yes... now that it's winter, the MBTA is showing its stupidity again.

This morning, we had no heat on our car-- and the system was blowing the cold air into the car for the entire hour's ride in. At first, I tried to excuse it as "Oh, it's the first run for this train of the day... it's probably just cold from sitting overnight in the yard." But nope, it was still as cold as when we boarded. I needed to thaw for a few minutes in South Station before trekking over to work.

I could put a complaint in on the MBTA website, but based on the response I got this summer, all I'll get is a generic meaningless "we got your email, now bugger off!" response about a month after the fact. Then they'll add my email to an MBTA mailing list where they send occasional spam messages about how MBTA service is improving (riiiiight) and what they've done to improve things (riiiight).

So if I put in a complaint today about the unheated car-- I'd probably get a response in.. February or so.

I would blow it off for the most part, except that as of January, my monthly commuter rail pass is going from $198 a month to $250 a month. For that much of a raise, I'd like to have cars working properly.

But above all of these fare increases, the MBTA still whines that it's broke. Broke after years of neglect with stations rusting through, platforms pitted and in need of complete structural rebuilding, escalators constantly out of service with permanent "temporarily out of order" signs, and trains that never get cleaned. When I was in college, we were greeted on Monday mornings with recently cleaned trains that had the over-powering scent of lysol within. It was deadly strong, but at least we knew that they'd made some effort to at least mop the floors in the cars.

While some station improvements have been going, the MBTA has wasted its money putting an entirely new fare system in place for the system-- with electronic reader cards (known as Charlie Cards... because the current generation is so familiar with the Kingston Trio's song) to eliminate tokens. It's similar in appearance to the BART system in the San Francisco area of the late 1980's and early 1990's (no idea if it's still the same out there). You get a single ticket, on which you place your desired amount of stored fare money. Each ride, the fare is deducted.

Only problem with Boston's system is that the old one wasn't broken- other than the fact that the token dispensing machines were always broken down. This new system appears to have only been introduced to eliminate booth workers. The sliding glass panes at the fare collection stations are slower than turnstyles. They're a frustration to exit, and I'm just waiting for about a year down the road when they start breaking and the MBTA doesn't fix them.

I realize that for a while, the MBTA was the cheapest train system in the nation- it was 85 cents to ride it the entire time I was in college. I realize that fares have to increase. But if the fares are increasing, justify it with at least comparable service. With each increase, the quality of service goes down. Another increase, and it's quite possibly no longer cost effective for Erich and I to commute by train. Right now, we have two zone eight passes (so... $500 per month, just for tickets), plus $60 for parking (assuming $3 per day for 20 days a month). Parking in Boston is about $15 per day at the cheap lot now located close to both of our offices. It's $24-26 at most other lots. Sure, it's wear and tear on our car... but if the train continues to be a frustration- is it worth it?

I thought mass transit was supposed to encourage people to not drive to work.

(sigh)

Cat-tastic Entry #1: Nobanion

So for the first of my five - yes five - entries to introduce and discuss the true rulers of our household, I figured I'd start with the comedian of the group:

Nobanion (pronounced No-BAN-yon)

But before I start this, you'll notice a theme with our cats-- they all have long, formal names, and then they have daily nicknames. I'm really not sure why. But they all do.

Anyway... Nobanion, or Noby, as we normally identify him, is now just about 18 months old. He's an orange and white tabby - all of his orange patches are very distinctly striped. The spots over his shoulder blades make a perfect Mickey Mouse ears image. He has light copper eyes that are just a couple shades paler than his orange spots. His whiskers are white, and both his nose and his paws are pale pink. He's the twin of Elly, who I'll talk about in my next entry.

His name is the god of cats (and is represented by a lion) in the Forgotten Realms universe. I loved the name, and with his personality... it fit. Immediately.

Noby (and Elly) arrived in our house in September 2005 by pure dumb luck. On our way home, we turned from the main road by our house (a U.S. highway) onto one of several side streets that connect with our street. It was very dark, so it had to be well after seven p.m. As we passed a streetlight, I caught a glimpse of a cat with two kittens stumbling behind her. I just exclaimed "KITTENS!" and we pulled over.

We could tell immediately that all three cats were feral. The mother was quite young and thin. The kittens were not in good health- with a myriad of issues (the first we noticed was the severe conjunctivitis in their eyes). We managed to get the kittens, but couldn't get the mother as she ran off into the darkness. After asking at a couple houses if they knew who these kittens might belong to (if anyone), we were able to determine that yes, they were in fact strays. And they were in dire need of medical attention.

Three hundred dollars in emergency vet bills later, we'd bought ourselves two kittens. The conjunctivitis was a secondary infection to a serious case of herpes-- the cat version of cold sores. They had fleas. They had worms. They had ear mites. They were definitely scummy little kittens. But the vet, after a second checkup about a week later, said they were just fine-- despite being ill, they were romping around like any other kittens, eating well, and doing just fine.

Noby warmed up to us first- that first night at the vet, we were in the exam room with him sitting on the metal table as the vet went to get some flea medication & run the tests for mites. Noby turned around to groom himself, and we could just SEE the fleas run away from the pressure. But as soon as Erich reached to scratch his ear... he purred. Seven weeks old, around complete strangers, and he purred, leaning into Erich's fingers.

He's never changed. Noby is definitely the extrovert of the bunch- he greets anyone who comes over to our house. He tends to be the performer, investigating things or playing with things in front of guests for their amusement. He pounces fingers on the bannister as we head down the stairs. He attacks the wall for no reason as we come up the stairs. And most recently, he made quite an impression with the roofers last Saturday as they worked on the sunroom. The entire time they were there, he hung out in the bedroom window, fascinated with what they were doing - the leader of the crew remarked how "that orange cat was just so friendly."

He's also incredibly affectionate. He comes up between the two of us as we settle down to sleep and generally flops down on my head for attention. He cuddles as close as he possibly can (normally... on my nose). He has specific ways of being held, though-- if you try to pet him when he's not in the mood, he'll start chewing on your fingers and kneading your hands as if he's trying to nurse.

Per the photo above- he sleeps in weird positions. We've wondered whether or not he's double jointed, although the idea of a cat (which is already made of rubber) being double-jointed just seems odd. Then again, so are those angles in which he rests his front legs as he sleeps every day- chin flat down on the chair, front legs splayed out and bent backwards, back legs tucked under him, and tail stretched out long.

He has the most pathetic little mew of a voice-- it sounds like the cry of a tiny kitten needing attention. It's not the voice of a nearly ten pound male cat. Perhaps we snipped him a tad too early? (but really... it couldn't be helped... we had both a male and female kitten of the same age... we had to be extra careful with our dates).

He's our little monkey cat, and I can't imagine life without him.

Holiday Music

Before I can start writing my “here are my cats” entries, I need to decide upon and upload photos of each of them to Flickr. So for now, I’ll use yesterday’s writing prompt:

"Holiday music: essential part of the season, or 'no way, it makes my ears bleed'?"

For me, it depends on the music. I get very sick of “Feliz Navidad” and “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” over and over. I try to ignore most of the trendy renditions of the songs that appear on the increasingly sucky A Very Special Christmas compilations (ever notice the ones in frequent replay are off the first album only? There’s a reason for that…).

With the exception of Trans-Siberian Orchestra – who I really wish I could afford to see in a couple weeks when they come to Providence – I don’t care for a lot fo the current songs out there. Call me a purist. I want to hear Bing Crosby and Burt Ives. I enjoy most of the renditions off of the first A Very Special Christmas compilation. I’ll happily take some beautiful brass quartet renditions or the non-confrontational muzak or smooth jazz.

The one thing, though, that does make my ears bleed is hearing seasonal music before Thanksgiving. I don’t need Christmas music around Halloween, thanks. Nor do I want to see the decorations up in a store that early. If you have them for sale, well… I think it’s early but I’ll tolerate that. Christmas music shouldn’t be played through store speakers until Black Friday, in my opinion.

I do get tired of it, though, by the time Christmas comes around- and I think it’s because it’s the same stuff played over and over. There is so much Christmas music out there—I wish stores would both play a variety, and play stuff appropriate to the surroundings. When I’m going into the drug store, I don’t need to be blasted by a full choral version of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” or a Josh Groban’s over-enthusiastic rendition of “O Holy Night.” I need to be focusing on reading the warning labels at that moment. On the other side of the coin, hearing the songs from the Radio City Christmas Spectacular while skating at Rockefeller Center is great.

For me, holiday music isn’t so much about creating the atmosphere of the holidays—that’s accomplished just fine by the changing weather, the lights and the crazy schedules as we shuffle from one party to the next. Holiday music helps bring back memories from years past, thinking about loved ones now missed dearly, and enjoying a few more moments with them through those memories.

Winter arrives

Erich and I woke this morning to heavily falling snow. Only a dusting had settled on the ground and the roads were clear, but it was just heavy enough to give all of the trees a very pretty flocked appearance. It was also one of those snows that I know won't stay very long. It's going to be just warm enough to make anything white disappear by day's end. A bit of the slushy aftermath may remain, but that's about it.

It made me glad that we finished a good chunk of our yard cleanup on Sunday morning, just in time for the snow to fall. We've filled about eight of those large paper leaf bags so far this season and probably have another four or so to go. We also have lost several large limbs from our maple trees this season. Both of us are a bit concerned that the trees may be diseased. Sometime next year, we'll probably get a tree doctor out to check them out. It just doesn't seem right that a 15 foot limb with a 6+ inch span would just come down. It's been windy, but not THAT windy. I'd hate to lose the height of those trees, but at the same time I know it's better to just get rid of them if they're sick trees. We'd just have to replant.

We can make use of the wood from those limbs, however. We bought one of those outdoor fireplaces so we could safely burn off twigs and brush that we need to dispose of (rather than attempting to bundle them). Erich has used the chainsaw to create logs out of the larger limbs for foundation logs in the fire. So yesterday as one person raked and bagged leaves, the other stoked a fire and burned off some brush. We traded off after every couple bags.

It was also good timing because we had our roof over the sunroom replaced on Saturday morning. During one of the recent heavy rainstorms, a good amount of water went through the roof, down the wall, and right into our sunroom. The plaster on the ceiling is now in need of replacement, and we may have to replace part of the wall as well. Erich called our insurance company, and while they said the roof was due to normal wear & tear, they did pay a claim on the interior damage. Thankfully the things that got wet wasn't anything too valuable- mostly our Dungeons & Dragons notebooks, a couple books, etc. I have to rewrite character sheets, but that's no big deal.

In any case, the roofers came on Saturday and put a new rubber roof over the existing asphalt one. Apparently when they took off the lowest siding board, they found the problem- the channel that was supposed to wisk water away from the roof had been covered over during the last resurfacing of the roof, so the water had nowhere to go until it soaked through. (sigh)

In any case, it's done, and unlike the asphalt roof, this one is supposed to last for at least 20 years.

Ah yes... home ownership.

What was that about a money pit? :)

Weekend Wakeup Calls

I don't generally get to sleep in on weekend mornings. Most of the time, my brain decides that I have, in fact, forgotten to turn on my alarm clock and am about to miss my train. But in the off chance that the internal alarm clock doesn't go off, we have five other alarm clocks that generally start voicing their opinion by about 8 a.m. or so.

Cats really need love, of course. And as their humans, we should be catering to them on their schedules... dammit.

This morning's edition of Feline Alarm was paid for by Nobanion. Around 8:30, he sauntered up the entire length of my body, making sure to walk over my head. He then bit my nose, licked it, and flopped unceremoniously with his flanks on my face with enough force to make me sneeze. He then relaxed, slid down into the hammock formed by my shoulder and outstretched arm, and began to purr.

For a few moments, I thought that maybe he was just going to cuddle up and go to sleep there, and I could doze for a while. I can't think of many things that I love as much as the slow wakeups on the weekends curled up to one of the cats, just being lazy. It's relaxing, it's peaceful. And it's rare.

So I just stayed there, resisting my morning allergies as they started to kick in. But Noby had other plans for me. He decided that he needed further attention, and began chewing on my outstretched fingers.

So much for cuddling.

I got up, used the bathroom, and came back to bed. Noby hadn't wanted my attention at all.

He just wanted the warm spot that I'd leave so he could take a nap.

(sigh)

A Rare Opportunity

The sun is partly hidden. The skies are debating whether to clear or stay in that half-fog haziness that keeps everything feeling just a bit damp. The winds on the seaport are light, giving just a bit of a breeze to freshen the air every few minutes. It’s just shy of 70 degrees- absolutely delightful weather.

No one has a coat on.

In Boston.

On November 30th.

If I didn’t know better, I’d argue that I’m now working in San Francisco. The recent weather reminds me so much of the December weather in the Bay Area as I’d visit my mother for the holidays. Coming from a Rocky Mountain upbringing, to be able to go outside in a t-shirt and jeans on Christmas was such a novelty.

The same novelty applies in New England. Usually this time of year I’m swearing as I try to find where my mittens have run off to during the overnight hours. I’m shivering as I wait on the concrete platform for the train, wincing as that blast of air hits me as the train rolls into the station. And walking through Boston in late November to early December? It’s painful. The street planners made Boston a fantastic wind tunnel. In fact, it’s the windiest major city in the United States. During the winter, residents are reminded of this fact every day as they trudge to work.

Yet the night of November 30th, it was absolutely beautiful. It was downright springlike.

As Erich and I settled down to bed, we watched the Weather Channel to get the morning’s forecast. I knew a big thunderstorm was making its way east, and wanted a sense of what time it would hit. At only a couple minutes to midnight, it was 62 degrees with a low of something high 50s.

We slept with our bedroom windows wide open to catch the breezes. On November 30th.

It doesn’t get much better. :)

Friday Feast #4

I haven't answered the questions in the Friday Feast for a while...

Appetizer
Have you ever flown in a helicopter?

No. I'm honestly curious to do so, but I wonder if my fear of heights would come into play. It doesn't in a plane, but that's a tad bigger than a copter...

Soup
What color is your warmest coat or jacket?

It's a leather jacket with a very plush faux leopard interior. Supposedly the coat is reversable, but I can't imagine wearing the faux fur on the outside... it would be a bit... loud. But the jacket feels like literally wrapping a comfy blanket around you, even on the coldest days. But it's also so thick that it makes me walk a bit like Ralphie's little brother in A Christmas Story.

Salad
What is your favorite rainy day activity?

Playing World of Warcraft on the computer or stitching. I usually do a bit of both.

Main Course
Describe your hands.

I have small hands. I still wear kid sized mittens. My palms are fairly broad, and my fingers aren't that long. I'm a chronic nail-biter, so my nails are severely short. I have a few scars on them from cat scratches, and I'm starting to get the slightest age lines on them. They go through a lot of abuse. :)

Dessert
If you could eat only one nut for the rest of your life, what nut
would you pick?

Honey coated cashews. I swear they're laced with heroin.

The Gratuitous Introduction Entry

It’s Holidailies, which means that several people who don’t commonly read me may be visiting. To the newcomers- welcome! I hope you’ll enjoy my writing, want to share comments and hopefully read after January 1st has passed us by...

With the beginning of Holidailies, I thought it best to start with introducing myself. It’s been five years since I wrote my original bio for my blog. I’ve cut and pasted new info, but it’s due for an overhaul. So…

My name is Melissa. I usually go by Mel (with both co-workers and friends), or by Measi (a childhood nickname that stuck). I’m on the cusp of age 32, a double Capricorn (if you’re into astrology), lazy-about-practicing Pagan, geek, cat lover, and craft-aholic.
I’ve lived in New England for 13 years. I originally came to Boston to attend Boston University, fell in love with my new surroundings, and have settled in to a life I love.

I’m engaged to a wonderful man named Erich. He’s a native Massachusetts boy, with the slightest bit of the accent that has made the region so famous. He’s about 6’3”, giving him nearly a foot of height over me. I don’t even reach his shoulder. We’ve been a couple since 2001, living together since 2002, and homeowners since 2005. We live in the Providence, Rhode Island metro area in a pretty old colonial house with a decent yard. Both of us still commute to Boston for work, so we’re close friends with the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority, also known as “the T.” Driving our commute daily would be a nightmare. Erich works in IT. I work as an Admin. Assistant.

One of the biggest reasons Erich and I clicked so well is our mutual geekness (geekitude?). We both enjoy computer games immensely. He tends to go for the first person shooters and more violent games. I tend to lean toward the Sims, Myst, and other simulation/strategy games. We both play World of Warcraft a lot, and often together. We also enjoy Renaissance faires, tabletop gaming (think Dungeons & Dragons), fandom conventions, and all of the nerdy things from our youth that led into such interests. I have additional geekness coming from years of marching and pep band membership.

We are owned by five loving but very weird cats, who have come into our lives at an oddly clockwork 2-year interval. Colley is 7, Fizzy is 5, Gus is 3, and the twins, Noby and Elly, are 1. Photos and details about each of them will follow in later entries this month.

The major hobby I talk about in my blog (other than blogging) is my stitching. I’m an avid cross-stitcher, and tend to have about a half-dozen projects in the works at any given time. I originally learned when I was in 5th grade through a class art project. I enjoyed it so much that I kept on going. It helped me feel a bit more connected to my mother, who sewed all the time when I was a child. She loved that I was interested in embroidery, too, and helped me select materials and such until I was out of college. I went through a few years of disinterest, but found myself really getting into it again about two years ago. I tend to work larger pieces, so completions are few and far between. But I find that the journey of stitching is honestly more fun than the completion. Most of my current projects and all completed projects are located in my Flickr account (on the right hand bar).

So what do I normally write about in my blog? It depends on my mood. I tend to write about what happens during my days. Lately I’ve been on a bit of a meme streak due to an inability to sit down, think and do quality writing. When I do have the time to really think and write, I’ll talk about topics that are personal- adoption, faith, lukewarm attempts at politics, etc.

So who’s reading? Drop a note and say hi!

SBQ's

I'm honestly drained of writing ideas-- anyone have topic suggestions?


Until I find some inspiration, I'll catch up on my Stitcher Blogging Questions...

12/28/05: How do you balance your stitching time with your other obligations such as work, household chores, etc.?

It hasn't been a struggle for me. If I have too much to do house-wise, it annoys me so much that I just don't stitch. If I were doing more obligation stitching, I may feel a bit more stressed about it. But I stitch when I have the free time and feel like pulling my hoop into my lap.

At the moment, I have a one-hour train ride each way to commute to work-- so when I'm awake, that's nearly two full hours of stitching every day. When the weather's lousy, I'll eat at work (now that we can buy food in the building) and possibly get in about 15-20 minutes of stitching. Evenings depend on what's going on at the house-- we rarely do any big cleaning projects on weekday evenings because we don't get home until 7 p.m. At this time of year, it's dark before we leave Boston anyway- so outdoor projects are definitely out. Dishes and a load of laundry are really all that can be done on weeknights.

On Tuesday and Wednesday nights, I'm guaranteed stitching time because Erich has "clan night" for one of two games with the guys-- World of Warcraft (Tuesdays) and Halo 2 (Wednesday). I usually plunk on the couch, turn on the TV, and grab a hoop.

So yeah... it's not a big deal. If kids factor in the picture, I know that will definitely change things.


1/4/06: Do you do your stash shopping at your LNS, ONS, or both? Which do you like better? Why?

I prefer to shop via the local store (LNS) because I feel there's really no substitute to surrounding yourself with the projects available, looking at sample work in person, and seeing the threads up close. But I have done a lot of online shopping as well. Ususally when I do online shopping, I don't go through a store, though-- it's usually through ebay or a person-to-person transaction off one of the discussion boards I belong to.


~ Mel.

A new year for craftiness

Sometime around Yule, I received a postcard in the mail from my local stitching addiction supply store that they were having a storewide sale on threads at the end of the year. As in, 30% off. Which meant that I could get the big-time supplies that add up in a hurry for a heck of a lot less money.

I quickly pulled out all of my patterns, and over Christmas weekend, developed my crafting plans for 2006. On Friday the 30th, I headed up to the store, gift money in hand, to have some fun. $80 later, I'm ready to go. I'm missing only two colors for one pattern, which I'll search for this Saturday. All of these threads were the more expensive kind- overdyed and hand-dyed silk threads that I'm honestly a bit nervous to stitch with because I know they're not colorfast and somehow I already sense a can of Diet Coke sneaking quietly up to them in the storage drawer, threatening to pour itself over them. But I'm also excited to try some new threads. It's a step up in the stitching advancement department. :)

My entire year of stitching is starting to firm up. I have several projects that are "works in progress" from last year. I have about a dozen others that have all supplies ready to go. And I'm psyched-- it's going to be a fun year of craftiness.

The big goals for this year are:

- Finish both wedding samplers (mine and Ivanna's)
- Finish two Teresa Wentzler pieces (The Castle and something else)
- Finish 5 other pieces (of any size)

This might get revised, but with the condition of my pieces, I think this is definitely do-able.

Here's my working rotation for the 1st round of 2006. I'm estmating that this will take me through about mid-February or so. I'm working it at 20 hour intervals:

Apache Wedding Blessing <-- current at home
TW slot (The Castle) <-- current traveling plus weekends
Cat slot (Staircase)
Wedding Blessing
Finishing slot/mini piece (will be used to backstitch. If no backstitching needed, I'll work on a really small piece here)

I started Ivanna's Wedding Blessing sampler this past weekend. So far, it's stitching up surprisingly easily and quickly- but it's still a mass of jumbled stitches at the moment, so I won't put up a photo until the weekend. At this rate, I may have it done within a couple of months.

I'm also still carrying my second rotation piece, The Castle, back and forth with me to work. It guarantees me at least one hour (and possibly 2, if my brain is awake enough in the morning to stitch) to work on the project every day. I only have about 10% left to go on it-- just some lower rocks plus the backstitching of the lower half of the pattern. And then it's done. Could I possibly finish this by the end of January?

It would be nice. :) Really, really nice. And it's very possible. (yay!)

My entire rotation might wind up going this way for a while: working a wedding sampler at home. Carrying the other pieces with me on the train. I honestly don't care, as long as the pieces are progressing. And I'd really, REALLY like to have some multiple finishes this year.

Once the wedding samplers are done, I'll take one of those slots and make it into a small to medium piece (any designer OTHER than Teresa Wentzler) slot. The other one will probably be open to whatever is screaming the loudest at me to start it. :)

It should be a very interesting craft year.

Changes in the Wind

It's been over five years since I've taken a look at the ol' resume. I honestly don't know where the electronic copy has gone. It's probably buried in the hard drive of a computer two cycles old.

But as I cleaned through our department files last week, I found a hard copy of my resume in my manager's files, still sealed in a pink confidential envelope dated July 2000. Never opened.

Interesting...

Anyway, I photocopied the resume and the attached materials and added the original into my personnel file. I took the photocopy home.

It's time to polish it and cast it out into the river of employment opportunities to see if anything bites. I'm stagnant here. I need to grow and don't have any opportunities where I am.

It's now been sent to a couple of friends who offered to pass it along. Cross your fingers.

One plus two plus two plus one

One fun and crazy New Year's Eve recipe:

24 (or so) gamer geeks
a plethora of booze
one yankee swap themed to "game night"
enough appetizers to feed a small army
one gothic revival mini-mansion
one murder mystery with parts for everyone

Press play.


We had a blast on New Year's Eve. A gentle snow was falling. The weather began relatively warm, but did get quite cold by midnight. Chris set up an outdoor fire in his grill for the folks who needed cigarettes throughout the evening. The babies in attendance were amazingly behaved and once asleep, stayed that way despite the party going on all around them.

Best yet, though, was that a new NYE tradition was quite possibly founded, and it happened in the best of ways-- on a whim. Dan and Toni, who are long-time folks in my outer circle of friends, were unable to get a gift for this year's Yankee Swap due to their Hanukkah celebrations with relatives. So instead, they went online to a website that had downloadable Murder Mystery games. Apparently the site has games for anywhere from 6 to 200 people, and you just select a game for the appropriate number. All of the pages are in PDF format-- you just need to print, compile, and distribute. So Dan and Toni announced this once everyone arrived and distributed characters.

For a party comprised of approximately 20 Dungeons & Dragons players, it took no time at all to get into character and have a blast. The scene was the opening night of a speakeasy in Chicago in the early 1920's.

The funniest thing was that despite couples being written into the different parts, no real-life couple was cast as a married couple. Instead, we were all joined through our character's romantic affairs. :) I was assigned the part of Donna Wannabe, a 24 year old flapper girl who loved the social life of the speakeasies and spending her time with actors and dreaming of going to Hollywood. Thankfully, we weren't required to come in costume for this-- because my size 24 body would not have been very good in the recommended flapper dress. :)

Throughout the night, certain characters were "killed", per a to-do list on each of our individual character profiles. My list had no murders, but I was able to do a lot of gossip and shit-stirring. Thankfully, the part of the flapper girl gave me the perfect excuse to help myself to one too many cosmos-- the alcohol definitely made me a bit more outgoing. As part of the atmosphere of the night, I was tempted to "kill" someone in the ballroom and leave a candlestick next to them, though. Just to be a brat.

:)

So much fun. I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a rip-roaring party with their friends!

Closing Down the Year

Each year, I've done this entry for myself to look back, month by month, and take stock of what happened, how I see it now (after the fact), and how I see things going.

This year, it's honestly impossible to go month by month. The events in my life this year have transpired over the months, overlapping like waves on the shoreline. One would begin to pull back for a while as another one came to the foreground.

Honestly-- I'm fucking exhausted. Thankfully, it's a good exhaustion for the most part. I think upon heading to the New Year's party tonight at our friends' house, I can't help but remark at how completely different things are from last year, when we headed to the same house to celebrate with the same group of friends.

It has been a hard year for so many people that I know, and so many hundreds of thousands that I don't know. 2005 definitely is a year of sadness and pain on a global scale - which makes me all the more squeamish about posting an entry that reflects on my personal year, which was surprisingly good.

I can't ignore reflecting on this, though-- it's been quite possibly the biggest year of change I've had in my life so far.

This year can be summed up for my personal life by three things-

Turning 30
Getting Engaged
Buying a House

Age is a number, or so they say... and perhaps, for most of the years, that's true. I'll call bullshit on that for 30, though. I do feel different at 30 than I did at 29. A lot different. It felt different the morning I woke up on my birthday. My 20's, which were a downright shitty decade of confusion and pain, were over. I was no longer the "kid" at work, or at home. I finally had reached adulthood in my parents eyes, and the need to please them and prove myself to them was no longer the important goal it once was. I met the invisible milestone-- to survive my twenties. Thank Goddess.

Eleven days after my birthday, Erich and I were in the Boston at our annual Geekfest, and decided that we'd go out for dinner Saturday night. What would become known as the Blizzard of 2005 was bearing down on New England, the estimates of snowfall changing by the hour as it approached, each time getting considerably worse.

In the storm's first hours, I experienced my most romantic night to date.

To think that tonight, one year ago, I was nearly in tears on the back porch of Chris and Sara's house, convinced that Erich would never ask me to marry him. (I was, in fact, very drunk... but also very stupid).

Even more amusing, to think that I had been convinced that I'd never marry. Six or seven years ago, Andi, our friend Jenn, and I were sitting in the living room of Andi's parent's house (the last time I've seen either of them in person, oddly), and we were discussing our relationships. Jenn was married. She and her husband were buying a house. Andi was in a relationship (although I can't recall if she was dating her now husband at that point). I was downright bitter and miserable about life, being in the middle of dealing with Yet Another Round of Jason Bullshit, and convinced that I was so worthless as a human being that I would never find anyone. At some point that evening, I recall making a comment that somehow, I always knew I'd never marry.

MmmmHmmm...

That alone should be the event that is used to remind me that I over-react way too often.

Event #3 of the year somewhat put a damper on the wedding plans, of course. We're just now in the initial phases. We'll have a date one of these days. Really. Honest.

*smiles sweetly*

And onto event #3...

365 days, give or take a few hours, ago... buying a house wasn't even on the horizon. Erich and I commented on how we'd LIKE to buy something someday. We'd pick up the flyers in the grocery store for the "for sale by owner" ads, and dream. Deep down, though, we figured we couldn't afford it. At least, not in New England, where we both wanted to stay. It would be years before we'd be able to put any money down on a house. Until then, we'd continue to grab those flyers at the store, discuss the type of houses we liked, and enjoy the wishful thinking.

And then Mid-March comes around, and we decide to throw all of that dreaming out the window as a house... THE house... came out of nowhere.

Here's the fucked up timeline...

Late February, 2005-- Erich makes a mention to Sara (our host for the New Year's Eve parties), that we might be interested in getting a sense of houses in the Providence area, since he liked our friend Frank's house, and was surprised by the price difference.

March 4th-- we head to Pennsylvania for my grandfather's 80th birthday (I put this here to drive the point that on this date, a house wasn't even in our MINDS). That same weekend, Minarae and Petrouchka get engaged.

Thursday, March 10th- Sara (our friend who hosts the New Year's parties) emails Erich a photo and listing of a house in Providence that just came on the market the day before that she thinks we really should see.

Friday, March 11th - I write an entry about things happening, acutely aware that something REALLY HUGE is on the horizon, but I can't figure what.

Sunday, March 13th- We look at the house and really, really like it.

Monday, March 14th- We make an offer on the house at the asking price. Within hours, there are multiple other offers on it, and the house is taken OFF the listing market and put into a "pending" status.

Tuesday, March 15th- Our offer is accepted. Oh wait... shit. There's that whole DOWN PAYMENT issue. Quick, start calling relatives!

April 26th- We close on the house and sign all of the papers.


Seriously-- it's the most fucked up thing ever. I would sit there at the apartment for hours and just stare at the wall.

I definitely don't recommend anyone try this method of house buying. It's not good on the brain.

It makes for some damn great stories and memories, though.

Six months after moving in, I still think we're insane. I often don't feel like enough of a grown-up to handle a house. I still can't believe that I'm a co-owner ON a house. Yet here I am, sitting in my own office, looking out onto my own yard where the New Year's snow is starting to softly fall. The excitement of it just hits me again out of nowhere. I OWN this. This is mine.

It's so fucking cool.

...

Against these things, the rest of my personal year seems so uneventful. THIS is what my life has been this year. I haven't kept in contact with people. I haven't read journals. I haven't made the phone calls or written letters.

And I apologize. I truly do. My introvert brain has simply gone on complete overload this year because it's been such a rollercoaster year of growth for me.

Life comes full circle, doesn't it? Perhaps as I get older, I'll sit on the couch and look back in wonder at 2005, where so many pieces of my life came together and miraculously, how I recognized it as things happened.

It's been one hell of a year.



Happy New Year, everyone. May 2006 be more interesting-- but hopefully calmer -- than 2005.

Hairy issues

I have a day off. A glorious, sunny day off... all for me. And said day off will kick off that glorious rare thing-- a four day weekend.

Whee!

Although it's starting off on an awkward note- I've needed a haircut for a while, and decided to trim my bangs up myself, since they need the immediate attention. This is, by the way, something I normally do because my hair is very strong and grows evenly. I've been allowing it to grow so it's longer for my wedding, and almost have it at the bottom of my shoulder blades, where I want it. To do this, though, I need to just let it grow for a while because the original cut had tons of layers in it since my hair was so thick. For eighteen months, I was good about going to the salon every six weeks. Each time, they'd trim it, but add more layers in-- some cuts facing the wrong way, and the stupid ski jump flips started showing up on my ends. I have STICK straight hair, so these cuts really are noticeable. Now it's at the point where I have so many lengths of hair on my head that I can't even get it into a ponytail without all sorts of retarded spikes sticking out. It drives me nuts.

I decided that to fix it, I just need to let it grow for a while. I'll go in sometime this spring to the salon, have the stylist do a straight cut across to clean up all of the ends, and then just continue to let it grow and get maintenance trims every six weeks so it's even and straight and can be put into an "updo" for the wedding if that's what I decide to do.

Anyway... this morning after my shower, I stand in front of the mirror, trimming comb and scissors in hand. Deep breath, even it out... cut.

Well, I trimmed the bangs a tad short. Not horrendously so, but they're about a quarter inch above my eyebrows. I'm kicking myself a bit, but with how fast my hair grows they'll probably be halfway down the lenses of my glasses again by the 10th. Thankfully, our New Year's Eve plans involve hanging out with friends, who already know I'm a goober and a klutz. *shrug*

*sigh*

If I weren't too chicken to grow out my bangs, this wouldn't be a problem...

2005 fill in the blanks

In 2005, I gained a fiance, a house, and two cats... and some weight..
I lost that post-collegiate feeling of not having responsibility for anything yet. (aka... twenty-something's over!)
I stopped dealing with tenants next door and downstairs.
I started realizing how much time maintaining a house takes.
I was hugely satisfied by accomplishing two moves (work and home) in the span of a month.
And frustrated by the miscommunication between my boss and me.
I am so embarrassed that I still suck in managing my money.
Once again, I attempted to find something positive every day, and remember to tell Erich I loved him every day.
Once again, I did not exercise as I should.
The biggest physical difference between me last December and this December is I've sadly gained some weight.
The biggest psychological difference between me last December and this December is a lot more stress and frustration, due to my work environment.
I loved spending time with Erich, the cats, and working on my stitching.
Why did I spend even two minutes dealing with J. bullshit.
I should have spent more time contacting my long-distance friends.
I regret buying expensive lunches that I really didn't need, both cost and calorie-wise.
I will never regret buying hired time with a moving company even though with that money I could have bought all of the supplies to strip and paint at least two rooms of the house.
I fret way too much.
I didn't stay in touch enough.
Work drove me crazy.
Was everything crazier than ever last year? Or was it me?
The most relaxing place I went was Maine.
I feel so reflective when I write that down.
Why did I go to that movie that I knew I'd hate just from watching the previews?
The best thing I did for someone else was give a listening ear and a hug when needed.
The best thing I did for myself was realize the problems in my life, and start to work through them to make things better.
The best thing someone did for me was (two things) propose to me; help fund the down payment on the house.
The one thing I'd like to do again, but do it better, is find a better job.

( Fill in the blanks.. courtesy of Chicago Tribune's Mary Schmich )

Only an aquaintance

** removing this entry ***

Andi dropped me a surprised and pained email about this entry. Apparently my thoughts did not translate well to screen, and it misled her to think that I was talking about her no longer being a friend. Because of that, I'm removing the entry-- if she can read it as applying to her, so could a lot of people that it doesn't refer to. Which means I really, really screwed up.

I've sent her an email, but wanted to post this here in case she read it first....

Nothing could be further from the truth that I was talking about you, Andi. You are, and always has been, my sister and closest friend (along now, of course, with Erich). What I'd intended to get across with my entry was that you is the example of a friendship that has not been damaged by time, or distance, or events in our lives. You and I have had bad times, but somehow, we've always worked through it and come out on the end in a position that's arguably stronger than before.

So Andi, no... I apologize for misleading you in my attempt to be vague, and most importantly for the pain it caused you. And hopefully my email to you will clear that up, and also why I was attempting to make the entry vague while also venting my frustration. And also to explain some other things that really needed to be said.

As I mention in the email-- give me the kick in the ass when I'm being one. Because coming from you, I'll definitely be paying attention.

~ Mel.

Mental list

Pay this entry no mind unless you want to see what a slacker I really am for not getting chores done-- I'm just typing this here to keep it handy and not lost on a piece of paper... somewhere...


Kitchen
-------
Dishes
Stove
Counters
Floor
Sort through all papers & recycle
Cans/bottles to recycling
Clean out fridge
Make grocery list for Friday
Reorganize dishes and pots, put back where belong

House chores
-----------
Vaccuum wood floors all rooms
Vaccuum upholstery on couches
Scrub bathroom
Take down tree on Monday & pack up ornaments
Check tree pickup times with Providence waste resources
Order new bottle/can recycle bin
Put away laundry
Take dry cleaning to cleaners (except ren stuff)
Rake remaining leaves on grass
Oil change for Jeep

Finances
---------
Bank deposit
Buy T-pass on Friday
Pay off credit card
pay off car insurance
mortgage check to Erich
bills to go elsewhere
cash in scratch tickets

Contacts/letters/personal
----------
Thank you notes for gifts
Thank you posts for cards on DX
Yahoo group swaps
Postcrossing exchanges
Order replacement battery for laptop
Return Ivanna's call from Tuesday
Find planner binder & set up 2006
Gifts for Yankee swap on New Year's Eve
Contact Sara re: food for NYE
Letter to Andi
Letter to Grandma
Find World's Largest Dungeon notebook & transcribe notes
Mail to mom and Jim

Wedding
----------
Discuss with Erich
Start attendee list
Call Mom

Boston at Dawn

As an aside- my server provider, Globat, has been annoying the crap out of me this week. They seem to be having server issues, and at times it's been bad enough that I haven't been able to load my own pages. If you haven't been able to read-- this is why. Hopefully the problem is fixed since my pages loaded right away this morning. *sigh*

If you've stopped here to read for Holidailies 2005, you'll want to find me over on Holidailies because I've been linking some older entries on my old journal and LiveJournals to keep my posting count up to date while this has been going on...

Anyway...

It's quarter to eight in the morning, and I'm sitting at my desk at work. When I arrived about 20 minutes ago, the lights were all off in the building, save the emergency exit lights. The sun was just rising, turning all of the building tops a bright, beautiful gold. None of it had hit the street yet.

The lights in the building are still off. I'm fairly comfy by the light of my screen and my desk lamp for now. I'll let the next insane "oh my god why are you here this early?!?" person find the switch. It's probably the person who normally turns them on, anyway. I'd like to be able to make the impression that I'm not yet here so I can get some work done in peace. :)

Mind you, this is the first time I've arrived at this office so early-- it's not something I want to repeat very often. It requires catching the commuter train from Providence at 6:10 in the morning, which also requires me to get out of the house at around 5:45 to get to the station. But Erich had to get in obnoxiously early today to cover a help desk shift at his office, since the vacation schedules have left coverage spotty. At least I can leave work at around 3:15. :)

I enjoyed the walk to work this morning, though. I treated myself to an entirely-too-expensive cup of coffee (Peppermint Mocha) from $tarbuck$ this morning, thoroughly enjoying the fact that there was no line at the counter. Copley Square was seeing signs of life, but nothing like I normally see at 8:45 or 9:30 when I normally get there.

If there is one place in Boston that I truly enjoy just to hang out in, it's Copley Square. It has a wonderful lawn to sprawl on when the weather is warm. A fountain on one side provides another warm, cozy spot for late spring through autumn lunch time. Trinity Church is so beautiful to look at with its ornate brownstone carving. Every time I look at it, I find something new that I swear wasn't there before. I'm also fascinated that such a huge building is supported entirely on sunken wood pilings... but it's the same as anything else in Back Bay built at that time. It's a beautiful church inside, too. I used to attend Sunday services there while I was in college. Being in an Episcopal church gave me some home comfort. The bigger reason, though, was that I loved the hymns being sung to a brass quartet and huge brass organ.

A stack of guard rails are leaning against a pillar in the square-- I presume they're for First Night this weekend, when there usually are two or three impressive ice sculptures out on the lawn of Copley Square for all to admire. The ice hasn't arrived, though-- I wonder when it will show up?

Oop-- someone's turned on all the lights. I guess it's time to get to work...

Reclaiming time and space

We're having a rather rainy post-Christmas. The snow from two weeks ago is finally being washed away, taking with it the piss-poor job we did in shovelling after the freak snowfall that left everything over a sheet of ice. Needless to say, next time we won't be so lazy about it and let everything freeze. As soon as we get home, out come the snow shovels.

We'd planned on today being a fairly lazy day around the house. Neither of us are gung-ho discount shopper fanatics. Would I mind picking up cheap holiday lights for next year? Nope... but I sure as hell don't want to deal with the hordes of other people out there.

Despite that, we did venture out to Sears briefly. Erich's car has been sitting silent in the driveway since Thanksgiving due to a dead battery, and the weekends were simply too busy to go out and get one. While the automotive section of Sears was fairly busy, it was mostly people taking advantage of the day off to get their oil changed. We got in and out of there fairly quickly.

It's quarter to three. We've done all of our errands. The rest of the day will really be a combination of laundry, kitchen reclaiming after celebrating yesterday, and personal things before the Pats game tonight. Erich's geeking out a bit on World of Warcraft. I'm going to be focusing on finishing up some penpalling swaps that are long overdue that I just haven't had the time or money to get done.

Other than an occasional swap to help cover something on my own lists, I will be quitting for a good portion of 2006. I'm just tired of it. I'm tired of dealing with a good portion of the people who swap via yahoogroups. I suppose it's because I've always been much more laid-back about things since I work full-time and respect those who also do, or who are running a household. But the longer I swap there, the more I see people who seem to have nothing else in their lives except swapping. The more I deal with them, the less interested I am in actually making an effort to swap. So I'm hoping to just get it out the door and focus on stitching-- I get much more enjoyment out if it, anyway.

It's interesting how interests can change. It really is. I never thought I'd be sick of swapping.

A quiet little Christmas

Christmas Day is winding down. The dinner plates are stacked by the sink to be washed. The presents are all opened and gradually moving from under the tree. What was a sunny and relatively warm day has turned to a fairly heavy night rain.

It's been a perfectly relaxing Christmas. I needed this so much, and despite "entertaining" for most of the day, I just feel comfortable and relaxed.

Erich's dad came around 10 a.m. We opened presents over coffee. I was thrilled with everything I received (yay money! yay new iPod!). If they were close enough, the cats were stuck with the bows from presents. We chuckled as we watched them try to figure how to remove them (they did successfully). Breakfast was fried eggs and some of the home-made venison scrapple that Mom and Jim brought early this month.

We watched A Christmas Story, then Serenity, and then most of the Green Bay vs. Chicago game. No stress, no real time table-- we just relaxed and hung out. Around 3:30, Erich called our friend Purkis to see what he was up to and invited him over for dinner and possible late night World of Warcraft goodness. He accepted and showed up about 45 minutes later.

Dinner was great-- cranberry stuffed pork roast with mashed potatoes, rolls, and steamed artichokes. I hadn't had artichokes in so long-- it used to be a common dinner treat growing up. I'm glad I managed to steam them correctly.

Erich's dad left about an hour ago. The guys are hanging out in front of the TV as they play WOW (geeks!). I'll probably do a little stitching and play some Sims before I head to bed. I'm sure the guys will crank a late night of WOW, which is fine... we're not going anywhere tomorrow.

I did miss going to my mom's this year, but it's always crazy and there are so many people. I enjoyed the quiet holiday this year. I definitely needed it.

Hope everyone else had a nice Christmas!

Best,
Mel.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

I'm off to get the kitchen in order for the day, but since I'm running a bit crazy, here's an exerpt of an entry I wrote back in 2001 regarding my family's traditional Christmas celebrations...



My grandparents, my mother, and my uncle came over from Germany after World War II. They are Polish, but were in a relocation camp (like so many thousands of people) after the war since they had no place to go. They were sponsored by a church in Easton, PA, which is now considered my mom's hometown. My grandparents still live there, and have lived the ideal American Dream through years of hard work. The metal plating shop where my grandpa got his job back in the early 1950's is now his company, slowly being passed down to my uncle. Unlike immigrants today who seem to refuse to blend into the melting pot of American society, my grandparents immersed themselves. They had to in order to survive. They learned English, and despite some breaks in grammar and thick accents, speak fluently. They joined a local Catholic church, and go to English-speaking services, even though there is enough of a Polish population in the area that there are Polish-language services available.

Yet even with their immersion, some things of cultural tradition remain sacred. Most of these traditions revolve around Christmas time, and the entire family gets together every year to celebrate because we know how special holding these traditions are. I rarely do a specific ritual for Yule and the rebirth of Father God. Celebrating with family for me is a ritual in itself, and in their own Catholic way, my grandparents open and close a ritual circle of love each year for the family. I am a participant, rather than the leader of this celebration.

Our big celebration is on Christmas Eve, known as the Wigilia. Everyone on my mother's side of the family gets together at my grandparents' house. We usually have around 14-16 people for dinner. Traditionally, one chair at the table is left open for the newborn Christ/God, but with how crowded we've been, it's usually a chair set off to the side these days.

Before dinner, we all are given a large square wafer called an oplatek. Oplatki are similar in consistency to the communion wafers at Catholic and other Christian denominational churches, only rather than about half-dollar sized, they are about the size of an index card. We walk around the table, and each person breaks off a piece of every other person's oplatek. We give each person a kiss or hug, wish them a Merry Christmas, and start the jumbled search around a busy, crowded dinner table to find another member of the family who we haven't hugged. It's a symbolic breaking of bread together, and unifies us as a family.

The traditional Polish Christmas meal consists of tons of potato pancakes, borsht, perogi (which are like ravioli, only they're filled with either potato or sauerkraut), galumpki (cabbage rolls filled with tomato and rice), fruit compote, and typical veggie side-dishes, depending on the cook's mood. No meat is present, but we usually have some sort of fish on the table. I've been told by Italian friends that they have a similar tradition.

After we eat, we sing a few carols. We have fold-out caroling books in case people don't know the words to songs. We usually do the entire song. Each person at the table is encouraged to pick one, and they rotate through Polish and the more familiar English-language songs. I always stumble over the ones in Polish, since I really never learned how to speak it, but fortunately I can get by somewhat with my Russian-language background. Erich's theory is that if he goes and has a couple shots of vodka, his singing will probably fit in just fine on the Polish songs. He's honestly not that far off.

Once we've gone through a few carols, we move into the living room to open gifts from each other. While we're opening presents, the less-immediate family and friends often stop by, singing as they go. Someone's usually dressed up as Santa for the little kids. The carolers pack into the hallway near my grandpa's bar for a couple shots of vodka and salutations for the season. Soon after, they leave for Midnight Mass, and the evening starts winding down as the individual families who aren't going to church start heading home for bed.

Christmas day is much more relaxed for us, with brunch and opening presents at home and such. The afternoon's a bit lazier... we hang out, watch the movies on TV, and goof around with the new gifts we've received. Dinner on Christmas Day rotates between houses, but it'll probably be at my mother's house this year. This dinner is much like Thanksgiving with entirely too much food, and either a turkey or ham for dinner.

Through these traditions, I am able as a Pagan to celebrate the warmth of family love through the darkest days of winter, while my Christian family members can celebrate "the reason for the season" without any interfaith wars coming up at the dinner table. We celebrate, we love, and we share. And just for an evening, everything in the family and in the world seems to come into balance.

I never thought I'd make it!

Yay! It's a long weekend. Please pardon me as I deflate into the couch and don't move for about 72 hours or so. Ugh.

I'm still decompressing and don't have anything that witty to write about tonight (do I ever, though?), so I'll catch up on some more Stitchers' Blogging Questions:

11/16/05: How do you feel about staying totally true to a pattern? Do you feel that you have to rip out stitches to fix a mistake or do you feel it's acceptable to incorporate a mistake into the design?

Several years ago as I was learning to stitch, I came to my mom with questions about being perfect with my stitching. She told me to strive to be as accurate as I can, but don't beat myself up if there are a few errors in the design-- "that way, you know it's yours," she said.

I guarantee that every project I do has at least one or two errors in it when I'm done. BUT... that's usually due to either not noticing it as I go along, or deeming it as not vital to the piece at large. For example, I have a complete miscount at the bottom of The Castle along the rock line-- I'm off by a full row for a part of it, and by looking at the pattern, it looks all screwed up. But looking at the piece-- eh, not so much. I just adjusted a few stitches to clean it up and left it as-is.

If it's something that will completely screw up a centralized count-- especially on a huge piece like a Teresa Wentzler, I'll rip the stitches out and fix it.

11/23/05: Do you always sign your projects? If not, why? If so, do you use your first name, initials or what?

This year was the first that I ever signed a piece. I'll probably continue it where I can find a good place to put it-- I think my first and last initial, plus last two digits of the year will suffice.

11/30/05: Do you have rules in the way you stitch? (i.e., Do you start in the middle? Do you determine which blocks to stitch first? Do you always start from the top or the bottom? Do you have special paths to prevent wasting thread?)

With few exceptions, I start in the middle and work out in whatever direction suits my fancy at the time. I don't stitch by the 10x10 blocks, but rather stitch by color. In any particular area that I'm stitching, I try to determine the primary color of the area and fill that in, and then put the complimenting and contrasting colors for that particular area of the pattern around it.

As for wasting thread-- I admit to being a bit careless at times, but generally I simply try to stitch until I physically can't get the needle through the fabric any more for a normal stitch without the thread slipping through the eye.

12/7/05: Have you done any charity stitching, been in one, or would like to organize one?

I haven't yet, but have heard of it. I"m not sure if I'd want to do any charity stitching. I think that between my full-time job and my sometimes very weird availibility to actually sit down with a hoop, I probably wouldn't be suited for charity work.

12/14/05: Take a minute to reflect on your blog reading habits and preferences. What do you prefer to read in stitching blogs? (Progress, tips, family life, experiences, etc.) How much do you think you are influenced by other stitching bloggers?

I definitely have been influenced by other stitchers in how to present my crafty updates. No doubt there. As for other things, I'm not influenced that much-- I started writing in my blog nearly five years ago, and didn't involve myself with stitchers' blogs until last December.

I don't have a preference on what I like to read-- if something doesn't interest me, I just move on... but I like a mix of just about anything. It all depends on my overall feeling for the day.



Off to bed and hopefully a chance to sleep in!

~ Mel.

No apologies given

First... watch this. Make sure you give it time to load properly so it doesn't lag. And have headphones.

Yesterday was one of my worst days of work here. I went home fuming, came back to work today in a slightly better mood, but I'm pissed off at some of my co-workers regarding yesterday. Thus begins my vent--

As an admin. assistant, I'm fully conscious that shit rolls down hill. I happen to be at the bottom of the pile, so therefore the shit usually winds up here at some point, and once it's here, it simply doesn't go further unless I manage to find the exit pipe. Traditionally, said exit pipe is generally labeled as "Mel knows her shit, and this ain't it."

I've been at my job for five and a half years now. I know my position. I know who to ask and who to contact to solve problems. I realize they come up, and that often times, I'm going to be the person pushed to deal with them because of my position. What I don't get is when I solve the issue, how lately it seems to be Still My Fault, despite all of the evidence proving to the contrary.

The biggest problem I've had in the last few months is our accounts payable department. To fall into geek speak for a second-- said department has taken on the form of a sphere of annihilation. Anything that touches it? Disappears. Gone. Who the hell knows where. I ask if they receive something, they say "never got it."

I solved that little tidbit by avoiding our interoffice mail pouch, and going straight to trackable UPS envelopes. Oh really? You didn't get it? How funny. UPS tracking #XYZ1230000X said you did, and that So-and-So signed for it at this time on this date in your mail room. And here's the scan of the signature. Yes, that's right-- THAT invoice. I thought you had it.

You'd think that would solve it with my managers, right? But no... clearly UPS is making stuff up, and I'm not doing my job and sending things to accounts payable to get paid.

Why the eff would I do that? Really-- would I seriously want to bring this bullshit on myself every day?

Yesterday was Another One of Those. Despite the fact that I'm in my final day of hell trying to get invoices out the door to accounts payable to meet their Dec. 23rd receipt deadline, I get dragged AWAY from all of my cross-checking to deal with two invoices. Neither is more than two weeks old, and no one will listen to me when I give them the date I sent it, and the tracking number. Nor will they listen to me when they hear that yes, AP does have the invoice. It's entered in the system and is scheduled for the next check run this Friday.

No-- the fact is that since vendor XYZ hasn't been paid, clearly I haven't done my job and it's still somehow sitting on my desk undone.

All I do is continue to explain the facts. I forward the emails confirming the information from accounts payable. But it's simply never good enough.

By two, I was so frazzled that I was on the verge of tears. And then my manager has the nerve to say, "Melissa, don't take this personally... it's just business."

Like HELL it's just business-- you're questioning my integrity to do my job. You're accusing me personally of not doing my job, despite my proving the contrary. Don't give me that shit.

At the end of the day, I managed to rush the payment, have the vendor thankful and cool with me-- but my coworkers in my department? Nothing. It's as if the blow-up and accusations never happened. Everything's right with the world and with me-- until the next time there's an issue.

And then again, I'll suddenly be completely incompetent in my job.

*sigh*

Blessed Yule

Another year is turning back into light. Despite the bitter cold in the air this morning, it's the morning that reminds me that the sun's strength is again growing. The cycle of nature begins again...

Today is Yule, one of the eight Sabbats on the Pagan calendar. According to most books, it's marked as a "lesser" Sabbat (as is Ostara, Midsummer, and Mabon-- the spring equinox, summer solstice, and autumn equinox). Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasadh, and Samhain are the major Sabbats by most of these sources. Personally, I don't divide between lesser and greater Sabbats, and I disagree with many of the Pagan resources on what would aptly be declared “major” and “minor.” If anything, the equinoxes and solstices would be major ones—so many cultures around the world have celebrated them throughout the centuries. The “major” and “minor” division simply doesn’t make sense to me.

But unknowingly, Yule does seem to unintentionally take a bit of a backseat for me due to its proximity to the 24th and 25th.

Anyway… Krisztina asked that I talk about my celebration of Yule and the holiday history. Tonight, I’ll work on a history entry. For now, though, I’ll work through the awkwardness of Yule in my household, as it presently sits.

I’m one of the people to whom “Happy Holidays” applies on all levels. Without getting into the recent b.s. “war on Christmas” discussion too much—I celebrate a lot of holidays in December. “Happy Holidays” includes everything from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day, in my mind. It’s not offensive, nor stripping of any particular holiday, and I really don’t care what form of goodwill someone sends my way. It’s simply acknowledging that there are a ton of them. On the 21st (and ONLY the 21st), I say “Blessed Yule.” Likewise, on the 24th and 25th, I say “Merry Christmas.” Because those are the days to express such greetings, in my eyes. BUT… if someone does wish me good tidings for a specific holiday, I return the wish in kind.

Yule and Christmas are pretty blended in my household as one long holiday. At this point, I really don’t divide between them. This is partly due to culture, and partly due to my admitted apathy toward sitting down for ritual on a regular basis (Pagans can feel guilty about not going to “church,” too, afterall). With such deep-set traditions already in place for Christmas, I admit that I still haven’t quite found my yearly tradition for Yule itself. I have a personal ritual written that I love, but I don’t sit down for it. It’s mostly due to my uncertainty as to where I’d be the next year, so I wasn’t able to really start founding yearly traditions to mark the holidays. For the first four years, for example, I was in college. December 21=final exams. Since then, I’ve usually been so crazy working on Yule (like this year), that other than a short session of prayer in the evening on my own,I just haven’t acknowledged the holiday ON Yule.

Part of it is that, despite loving my written Yule ritual, sitting down for ritual just doesn’t seem to meet my spiritual needs right now. I’m in one of those transitory periods with my faith, where a lot of things that I feel should be important just… aren’t. I know my foundation is still within Paganism, but I’m going down a bit of a foggy path at the moment with faith, and I’m honestly not sure where I’ll be coming from when I enter the next quiet meadow along my Path.

For the past three years, my observation of Yule has simply been put off until Christmas Day, where I’m guaranteed to be off work and can just quietly observe both holidays at the same time (newborn sun/son… to me, it’s the same thing). I don’t particularly like that I do that, honestly—I was annoyed with the two-holiday Christians as a kid, and I see myself slipping into being an eight-holiday Pagan now—a bit of a hypocrite.

I know that many families either celebrate on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. My family has always celebrated both, and Christmas is as much a cultural holiday as it is religious. Christmas Eve is when the extended family all gathers together for a huge meal together, complete with traditional Polish foods and carols at the table after eating. We open presents that night from one another, and whomever is going to Midnight Mass then departs. Christmas Day has always been reserved for the individual family to spend together. It’s much more low-key, but still a busy day with tons of food and celebrations with friends.

Now that I’m distinctly settled (and that still is an odd concept to me!), the Yule traditions can start growing comfortably along with the Christmas ones. I see Christmas continuing to be a day to celebrate with family and my extended family (both through relation and through friendship). For me, that’s always been the most important part of Christmas, and I can’t see myself ever dividing from it. While I love giving and receiving presents, it’s the togetherness that I really love about the Christmas.

I want to develop Yule into a personal day of reflection, much like Samhain has become to me. I’m drawn to the concept of death and rebirth, which Samhain and Yule represent. I’m very drawn to a day of quiet contemplation- desperately needed in the season of craziness that Thanksgiving through New Years Day has now become here in the U.S. I just need to figure out how to arrange it within the holiday season, and start forming the foundation of what will become a tradition.

And ultimately, I really just want to figure out where my Path is leading—or at least find a park bench along it that I can sit on for a while and watch other travelers go by.

Cat-tastic

Kat asked me to talk more about... cats. And I'll put together a few entries over the next few days, but we'll start with an easy one--

My life history, by way of our family cats.

In my thirty one years less three weeks of life, I don't remember a time where there wasn't a cat in my family. The gaps do exist when I was really little, but only by a year or so, and mostly because we had a couple of problem cats before the long-term cats came in. And other than the six years of dorm/college apartment life, I've always had a cat physically living with me and considering me his/her slave. The five I have now is definitely the all-time record for current catload. It's about the max I'd want to have. I can't cater to any more than this.

I honestly can't imagine life without at least one of them, though. Those first few weeks of college without a cat purring on my pillow at night was probably the most difficult thing I ever adjusted to-- even more than sharing a bedroom with someone else.

The feline family lineage (from my side of the family) is as follows-

Moko- I don't actually remember Moko, but I've always heard stories about her. My mom and dad adopted her in the summer of '69 when they were living in a ratty apartment just up the hill from UC Berkeley. They were newly married. My dad was out of medical school and was starting his residency at Kaiser Oakland. My mom was a nurse. Moko was a "troublesome torti" in all senses of the word. She was cranky and full of mischief. But when I was only a few months old, she ran away into the night from our Dublin, California home one night and never returned.

Bilbo- Two years later, we'd moved to Montana where my dad was setting up a private practice. Mom brought home Bilbo, who was a male purebred seal point Siamese. I got along great with Bilbo. Tons of photos exist of me sitting in the toybox or on the couch (usually with something retarded on my head) with Bilbo. I'm certain that he taught me how to speak to cats, too. Being Siamese, he talked a lot. A bit too much for my mom. When I was five, we had to give Bilbo away, though-- when my brother arrived, Bilbo became extremely jealous and would try to attack Scott. :(

Callie- Callie was the first cat I picked out when I was six. Mom felt very guilty that she'd had to give Bilbo away, and she knew that I had loved the cat. So she took me down to the local pound and let me pick out a kitten. I fell in love with a little calico (aren't half of the Calicos out there named Callie?). For a while, she was the only cat. But she was extremely territorial, and once the next two kittens came in, problems started. It turned out that we simply weren't the right home for her. One of my dad's patients happily took her to her farm to become a barn cat, where she lived out her days growing fat on mice and having a ball.

Kelim and Kashan- The first pairing of cats. They arrived in 1982. They aren't littermates, but we got them three months apart from each other, and they lived their lives as brothers.

Kashan actually came first-- he was a beautiful shell cameo Persian (think all white with a sploch of coffee stain down the spine) with the deepest copper eyes I've ever seen. Unlike a lot of Persians, Kashan's face didn't look like he hit a door at 80 miles per hour-- he was a purebred, but his face was a bit rounded.

Kelim was a purebred seal-point Himalayin. Over the years, his points expanded and he developed dark patches beyond the traditional Siamese pointing pattern. My father said that it came from his father. Kelim had mist-blue eyes that were slightly crossed, and definitely had the Siamese in his voice.

Kelim and Kashan, as well as the next two cats, were all named from an oriental rug book. My mom thought that since they were Persians (of a sort) that it was fitting. :)

Kashan was Scott's guardian angel cat. He hung out all the time with Scott, soothing him when he cried, guarding him as he slept. Likewise, Kelim was my cat. He slept with me every night, letting me use him as a pillow. Both cats were indoor/outdoor cats and lived to healthy old ages (for the time). Kashan died at the age of 12 after a long illness. Kelim held on until age 14, finally dying of kidney failure.

Bijar and Kula - The day after the 1989 Loma Prieta quake in California, these two kittens were born. Bijar, or "Biji" as she's called, is a seal-point Himalayin and a bitch-on-wheels (affectionately-- she's so small, it's hysterical to watch her have temper tantrums). Kula, her slightly larger littermate sister, is a blue-point who is a complete and utter space cadet. Scott and I first met them for Christmas in 1989 when we spent our second Christmas with my mom after she returned to California. Kula has always been my mom's cat. Biji seemed to be the "anyone" cat, but has always beelined for me whenever I'm visiting. At age 16, both girls are still alive, although they are now aging and in decline. They still live happily with my mom and the growing family.

Colorado - Colley is the first cat I've had as an adult. He's a purebred Norwegian Forest Cat and is now six. He is the alpha male in our family, and lets everyone-- including Erich-- know that I am HIS human. Erich marvels at how Colley follows me around everywhere. He's like a dog. And he'll talk to me all day. The two features about him that always amuse me are his multi-colored toe pads (every single one is a different shade, ranging from light pink to black) and his mood nose-- it actually changes, depending on his mood. The more hyper or stressed he is, the brighter pink it gets. Mom and I bought him in Philadelphia on Thanksgiving weekend 1999.

Archie - Archie is my mom's golden tabby Maine Coon. He's a big boy-- 16 pounds of solid muscle and fur. He's a bit skittish, but still has all of the clownish qualities of a Coon cat. He's five, and the big man of mom's house, guarding Biji and Kula in their old age.

Ladigo, Susie, and Lily - At the same time Mom got Archie, two barn cats entered my dad's life. Laddy and Susie weren't littermates, but were born in the same barn only a few days apart. Lily came about six months later, when Susie decided that she much preferred the barn lifestyle. I've only met them once in person, but often hear them chatting away behind my dad whenever we chat on the phone.

Mephista - Fizzy is our little frail kitty. She's four years old, although she's fallen into middle age a bit young, I fear. She's quite timid, prefers quiet spaces, and likes gentle rubs. Perhaps it's because she's originally a Harvard University feral-- her mom must have enjoyed creeping around the library, I suppose. At first glance she appears black, although she's actually a mink brown tabby with a grey undercoat. We've had lots of adventures with Fizz, starting with Pronoun Crisis of 2002.

Augustus - Two weeks after my grandmother died in 2003, Erich rolled a random encounter on the tiny table (sorry, gamer speak... but really, it's the best way to describe it). We named him Gus. Gus, now aged 2, is proving all of the vets who age cats in "cat years" wrong. Gus has been a perpetual "troublesome two" since about six weeks old. Only now, he has somewhere around 14 pounds of weight to throw around to cause chaos. He's a lover cat, though, with the most amazing rumble of purr you'll ever hear. He's also completely gay. He only loves the boys. He'll settle for me in desperate times, though.

Nobanion and Eldath - The most recent twosome to come into our lives are now five months old. They're also known as the Cow Kittens (reason obvious once you see their markings). These two tag team like crazy-- usually on Gus, which Fizzy appreciates because he's not pestering her as much anymore.

Noby is the larger of the two at about 5.5 pounds. He's already a lap cat with me, and a big lover boy to everyone. His favorite way to express is to run right up and give you a full slobbery face rub. His most amusing feature is a group of spots that distinctly look like the Mickey Mouse logo on his shoulders.

Ellie is a gentler kitten than her rowdy brother, but she also has a tendency to romp wild at times. She's the softest cat I've ever touched-- her fur is so dense and plush, and she feels like a cotton ball. She's also imprinted on Erich as a dry nurse. It's quite amusing. No one believes me until they see it-- and then they just crack up laughing. Poor Erich's not sure what to do, but he often cries out for help because he's being "attacked" by cuteness.


Thank Goddess I don't have cat allergies (*knocks on wood*), eh?

A quest for ideas...

Dear Readers--

With many days left on Holidailies, and a new year starting, I'm reaching out to get ideas for topics to write about for the next few weeks. I can ramble all day about the boring stuff I do every day-- but is there anything YOU want me to write about?

If it's one of those big, important topics, I may even stop my usual off-the-cuff writing style and actually COMPOSE entries for a while, editing them and cleaning them up. :)

So please-- give me ideas! Chances are, I'll use every one of them.

Or if you don't have ideas, let me know you're reading... because maybe I'll come and get inspiration from you. :)

~ Mel.

Holiday Football

I'm loving the Saturday and Sunday game schedule over the next three weeks. Between NFL and college ball, our TV is probably going to be on from morning until night on the weekends.

I was afraid for a moment, though, that my presence in front of the TV was jinxing the San Diego-Indianapolis game. Erich and I sat down in the 3rd quarter when the score was 16-0 Chargers. Within the next few minutes, suddenly Indy was on top. I was afraid I'd have to send Minarae and Petrouchka a personal apology for screwing the Chargers by watching the game.

Thankfully, they turned it around. But damn, that was a wild two quarters of football.

After the ups and downs of this season, I'm genuinely shocked the Pats are going to the playoffs, but it's a simple case of how bad the division sucked. As much as I'd love it, I don't expect them to get past the second round. It seems to be Indy's year. Today, as my dad just said on the phone a bit ago, simply reminded Indy that they're human. But they'll keep steamrolling on, I think.

Still, it's nice that there's some routine to Pats football. If it's December, the Pats win. If it's snowing, the Pats seem to have divine help on the field. We love the snow for a football game. The Raiders helped create that love for us with the Tuck Bowl.

Meanwhile, my dad is quietly mourning his sacred Eagles yet again. He's a devoted Philadelphia boy out in the region of the Denver Broncos. The "there's always next year..." chant has begun yet again.

Mmmm... football.

Present Procrastionation

Fear not, all of you who aren't done with your shopping for next Sunday. You are not alone. I, for example, haven't even STARTED my shopping. It's a new record for me, I believe. I'm usually not done until a couple days before Christmas, but this year has taken procrastination to an entirely new level of patheticness.

Did I notice a calendar, perhaps? The invisible, yet LOUDLY SCREAMING date that signifies one week until Christmas?

Why yes, I did. And yes, I'm concerned. But it really couldn't be helped, honestly. Between my cash flow and a lack of ideas from the few people who I will be buying for this season, it simply hasn't been feasible until this weekend.

Erich and I will be rushing out tomorrow, our holiday shopping padded armor strapped on, to purchase the rest of the presents that don't have to be sent anywhere. Then we'll come home and drop the obnoxious money for Amazon to hopefully (!!!) get presents to their destinations on time (although I doubt it'll happen at this point).

And then, after all of that insanity, I'll get that last batch of cards addressed and stamped, and quite possibly get them over to a post office box so they can shuffle out with the rest of the card procrastinators who hope their cards will arrive by the 24th.

And then... I'll need a drink.

Partied out

(Yay! I got a "Best of Holidailies" nod for my New York entry! *beams*)

The silent auction at our company Christmas party was a huge success. Tons of items were brought in, and the bidding was fierce on a few items. My cookies turned out to be good items. One basket went for $50, the other went for $45.

I'm not sure which was which, but I saw the auction organizers walk one basket over to the president of my company. THAT should be interesting. I hope she likes them! :)

It was strange being in the Park Plaza hotel for the Christmas party. The only other times I've been in that hotel have been for Arisia, and the hotel is a much different place when a couple thousand geeks aren't taking over the joint.

Everyone looked fabulous. Although officially it's not a formal event, almost everyone dresses up. I wore a black blouse, red silk embroidered jacket, red skirt, and ruby velvet mary jane style slippers (which I LOVE, by the way... I highly recommend that every woman on this earth splurge in at least one pair of ruby slippers. You'll feel like a princess.)

I left the party with a basket of cookies from my competitor and a wonderful gift basket of handmade candles and bath fizz balls scented with tea. I plan on having a wonderful soak in the tub at some point in the next few weeks! :) I tried for a couple other things, but quickly was outbid and the prices were going up a bit too fast for my tastes.

As things were winding down, I gave Erich a call to see what he'd like to do after work. He agreed to meet me at the hotel bar, have a drink (which we so rarely do after work that it really is a treat), and then grab dinner at the oyster bar before heading home. It would work out perfectly since I drove the distance from Providence to Boston this morning to avoid going out in the rain as much as possible. By around 5, the rain had almost stopped, but traffic would still be bad for a while.

Erich arrived at the hotel sometime just before six. We had martinis, and Erich mentioned that although oysters sounded good, he really wanted sushi. We decided to head back to the car and find something around Providence.

We returned home just before eight o'clock. While I freshened up upstairs, Erich turned on the TV-- the Charlie Brown Christmas Special was on, which we both plunked on the couch to watch. Some weird newer one followed, which we weren't interested in since it didn't speak to our childhoods. The TV went off, and we headed back out into the cold.

One stop down I-95, we came to a Japanese steakhouse and sushi bar. Erich had never experienced the extremely entertaining steakhouse style cooking before, so we sat at one of the tables surrounding a grill. Our chef went crazy with the cooking-- I always love watching the hibatchi cooks and the beautiful art of their grilling style (I know there's an offical name for it... but it's past midnight and I'm at a loss).

The food was great. We brought tons of leftovers home.

And now I only want to crawl into my comfy bed with Erich, the cats, and sleep until whenever my brain decides it's time to get up!

'Night...

~ Mel.

My New York Christmas memory

On a miserably rainy day much like this one, I visited New York for the first time. Driving into work this morning reminded me of that strange trip that is perhaps one of my fondest memories of college.

Two guys on my dorm floor and I were developing a fairly close friendship by December of 1993. We were the three geek outcasts on our floor of communications majors, and as most outcasts do... they find the other outcasts and join up, even though they didn't have much in common. One of them, Sean, was a journalism major from Stoughton, just south of Boston. Early in the semester, the three of us began heading down to Stoughton on some weekends, spending the nights at Sean's house, and doing a little exploring of New England.

In early December, Sean stopped by my room and asked if I'd be interested in tagging along for a trip to NYC. Apparently his mother and two friends went down every December, but the two friends had to cancel due to some church event at the last minute, and Sean's mom had given him a call. It was a tour package that couldn't be cancelled on, and she figured that maybe the two of us would like to go.

We got up before dawn that Saturday to climb into an express bus to New York. (I'd never been on a coach-style bus before, either, so that was... weird). Four hours later, the bus went over a bridge, and I saw my first glimpse of New York as the road wound its way through the Bronx, and then the bus took a turn into Manhattan. I'm not sure what route we took, but I remember seeing a sign for "Harlem" something.

My eyes were glued to the window in fascination. I was in New York. Look at it all! All of the old buildings. People walking everywhere. Neighborhood markets. Little bistro restaurants. A sea of yellow taxis.

I drunk it all in.

You have to realize that while growing up, New York was literally a mythical city of wonder. It was so far away that it existed only in movies, books, and dreams. I honestly wouldn't have been able to see a difference between the exotic locales in India and New York as a child. Now here I was, looking out at the city with my own eyes. It was a complete rush.

The bus finally reached the Port Authority, where we exited the bus and started a walk to get to Radio City Music Hall (another fabled place). We were going to see the Christmas Spectacular and the Rockettes.

Radio City Music Hall is huge. And incredibly detailed in a way that can only be in New York. As we went to our seats in the balcony, I could only gape up at the towering ceiling and consciously fight to keep my mouth from dropping open.

And then the show started. It started as a normal play. Pretty cute. I started to recognize songs with a reaction of "Oh, so THAT's what that's from...". And then the weirdness of New York, and of that amazing stage at Radio City, came in. An ice rink came up from the underbelly of the theater-- and a couple began ice skating. (on stage! Goo!). The Rockettes danced several numbers throughout the performance, bringing memories of quick costume changes to my mind from my position in the upper troupe in my dance recitals. I honestly wish I'd had a chance to see them as a child-- because all of a sudden, I understood why my dance teacher had been emphasizing all of the formations. From up in the audience, they really did look amazing. Perhaps I could appreciate them that much more than Sean, since I'd spent my Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights in junior high and high school trying to do similar things on high-heeled tap shoes.

At the end of the show, the stage went dark and the veil curtain closed, providing the stage crew a way to change the scenery while action continued in front of the curtain. A story from the Gospels about the birth of Jesus was read over the speakers and accompanied by soft music from the orchestra. As the story continued, an actor playing Joseph led a donkey, carrying Mary, across the stage toward the unseen Bethlehem. The actors moved behind the curtain into the darkened stage, past the ghostly outline of what would become the stable.

The spotlight widened as the announcer finished the story of Jesus. The holy family was complete as a baby was placed in the manger. It was quite touching, honestly.

A choir begain to sing "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing" as the backlit stage lights began to slowly brighten. People began walking on stage, leading animals on to the stage- goats, donkeys, camels (they had camels!!). The actors positioned themselves and the animals as the song continued. As the crescendo of the song crested, the sight before me literally thumped my chest, and for the first time at a theater, tears came into my eyes.

I was looking at a life-sized Nativity. Every peace was there. Every. single. piece. With humans as the pieces, perfectly still. The effect was instantaneous. The audience roared in applause- clearly others were moved as I was.

My life was moving into a non-Christian path by this time in my life, but everything about what I saw was so beautiful and spiritual, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't doubting my choices at that moment.

I didn't want it to end, but it did have to, as all great performances do. We shuffled out into the street and headed over to Rockefeller Center. People were leaning over the wall to look at the skating rink below. People were everywhere. There were lights everywhere, and the largest Christmas tree I'd ever seen placed before us. It was quite cold and raw, though, and Sean's mom led us to Sak's Fifth Avenue for a little browsing (no shopping... dear lord, the costs were deadly!). Sean and I noticed that they had Santa at Saks, and decided to get our picture taken (my last one, of course). He was, in fact, a very upscale Santa... wearing the finest of velvet clothing and was a man with a real Santa beard.

Only the finest Santa can be found at Saks, after all.

By the time we were done with photos and shopping, it was starting to get late. But Sean really wanted to go back to the ice skating rink. We walked right up-- completely oblivious of the fact that there was probably a line to get onto the ice-- and got right in. We rented skates, and were swirling around Rockefeller Center's ice rink in front of Prometheus within a matter of minutes. It was softly raining, which helped keep a fresh zamboni'ed surface on the ice as we went around. Music from the Christmas Spectacular played. A few more talented skaters did perfect spins in the center of the ice.

We headed back up to Boston that evening on a return bus. Both Sean and I slept most of the way back.

I'm sure the visions of sugar plums came dancing in my dreams.

Cookie Battle

Every year, my company's holiday party includes a silent auction for two employee-picked charities. I find it to be a refreshing mix of celebration while also thinking of others less fortunate, and trying to make a small difference somewhere en masse.

About two weeks before the holiday party, the call goes out via flyers and emails for donations for the silent auction. A little bit of everything gets donated- bottles of alcohol, glassware and serving platters, toys, sports tickets, a hand-knit scarf or two.

Two years ago, a new entry joined the fray- a big basket of homemade gingerbred cookies. The bidding was fierce, if I recall-- and the winner dropped a pretty penny for that basket of goodness. Last year, three of the baskets were entered. I was lucky enough to scurry home with one of them (where it was consumed pretty quickly). This year, I kept in touch with the baker, and we jokingly decided to both enter cookies and have a friendly "cookie battle."

I talked to J. last week and asked her how many baskets she was planning on including. She said four. I decided to enter two. Last night, I ran over to Michaels to pick up a couple of cute baskets, shreddy stuff to fill the basket, some ribbon, and some individual cookie bags. I then set up shop in my kitchen to make a bunch of cookies, bag them up, and then make gift baskets to enter into the auction.

Erich came down about an hour into the process, and remarked on the one-woman assembly line I had going. My key was making sure that I started the next set of cookie sheets as soon as the first set went into the oven. That way, I could do a quick switch every 15 minutes. In two hours, I did a double-batch of cookies, bagged 36 of them up, and divided them between two baskets.

One came in to work with me today to be put in the silent auction preview. I also brought in some sample cookies for my department-- they were inhaled within an hour and a half. (I credit a department of 38 women and 6 men to that record). The other basket will come in tomorrow morning, and then the bidding begins.

I wonder if a cookie basket will go higher than the $50 from last year.

It's all for a good cause, after all. And calories this time of year don't count.


;)

Feeling Crafty

It’s crafty day! Due to NaNoWriMo last month, I wasn’t participating in the Stitcher Blogging Questions on a weeky basis. I also didn’t have my camera to post updated photos of my work, so I’ll have those updates, too. :)

Measi.net was being extraordinarily cranky with photo uploads last night. I finally gave up at 11:50 p.m. and moved everything onto my old Kodak Gallery account. Over the weekend, I’ll work on posting photos and updating my Work in Progress (WIP) pages on the site, since they haven’t been updated since before my house move. For now, though, all of my updated WIP photos are here.

I’ve been working almost exclusively on The Castle this month and have ditched my rotation for the time being. I’m so (-oooo) close to finishing. The tail is almost completely done. Then I have a small section of rocks to do, and then a mess of backstitching. It definitely won’t be done by the end of the year, but the end of January is very feasible, and I’d love to get it done to start 2006 off with a great finish.

The week between Christmas and New Years will most likely be spent between stitching and sorting through all of my projects to prep a plan for 2006. I already know that 2006 has two wedding samplers (so far!) that are must-completes. Everything needs to rotate around those for now.

Onto some of my backlog of Stitcher Blogging Questions…

9/28/05- Have you ever just quit a project while in the midst of it? (We're not referring to UFOs (unfinished objects) here, rather projects that you know that you'll never work on again.) Why? What did you do with it - throw it out, give it away, put it away?

I’ve had two projects that I’ve completely stopped. One was put away, but eventually thrown away because it became damaged. The other was just tossed immediately. I didn’t like how it was looking at all.

10/6/05- When you have almost finished a pattern and start thinking about the next one to stitch, how do you select it? (a list, most recent purchase, etc.)

Ironic, since I’m focusing on this right now. First comes any “obligation” stitching (for example, the wedding samplers I know are in-line). Then I go to my list of projects that I’ve kitted with all supplies. Since I love Teresa Wentzler’s designs and have a dozen or so that I want to stitch, any TW project I finish will almost certainly be replaced with another TW.

10/12/05- How do you `non-hoopists' who use a rotation system handle it (as it seems to be lot easier if you are in good terms with hoop)? Do you have several scroll frames? Do you use Q-snaps or maybe something completely different? Or do you just have one or two big projects and others are small enough to be kept in hand while stitching?

I usually prefer a hoop, but a couple projects just won’t work with one, so I’m adjusting. One project is on a scroll frame. The other is an in-hand project. If I were to move into stitching on multiple projects on hoops or stretcher bars, I’d probably adjust my rotation so I had a travel piece on a hoop for my commute and keep the larger scroll frame pieces at home to work on in the evenings.

10/19/05- Do you mark or hi-lite your patterns or can you follow them without any markings? Do you make copies to mark up, or do you mark originals?

I make copies of all of my projects to work from. I usually set the photocopier so that the pattern is enlarged and easier to read. If it takes more pages to copy, it doesn’t matter to me. My photocopies and the original pattern are then kept in poly envelopes with the tie-button closures to keep everything together. (Kitted patterns that I haven’t started have the bobbins of thread enclosed in the envelope, too).

As I go, I highlight. I can follow without markings, but when working the more complex patterns, it’s so much easier to work with a marked copy.

I then use the original copy to follow for backstitching (but don’t mark it as I go).

10/26/05- Have you ever stitched something as a gift and later realized that receiver doesn't respect your stitched gift a bit (for example it's never on show, or you have other reason to suspect that it may even be nonexistent or at least placed in some dark storage room corner)? If so, what have you done? If you've been lucky enough to avoid such people what would you do if it'd happen to you?

Hasn’t happened yet. But to be honest, I don’t see myself doing a lot of gift stitching for people that aren’t either stitchers or knitters themselves—people who will appreciate the time that goes into making something by hand.

11/2/05- If you have stitched for a while, can you usually pick out the DMC colors you need from memory when you go to your LNS? (For example, you know that 610 is a brown.)

(LNS, for those reading and not stitchers, is a Local Needlework Store)

Not all, but there are a couple strings of numbers that I know. The 500 greens that are common in TW projects. The 790’s that are my favorite colors of blue. The 3345-48 string of green because I have TONS of them for some reason in my excess stash and probably won’t ever have to buy them again in my lifetime. I usually just bring a written list to the store, though.

11/9/05- When comparing large projects versus small projects, which do you get more excited about finishing?

Definitely larger projects, due to the time involved.

***********

More SBQ questions in tonight’s entry to get me caught up on questions! :)

~ Mel.

Not a creature was stirring... thankfully.

Erich and I set up our tree early last week. We bought a real tree this year, cheating by going to Lowes to purchase it rather than at one of the many lots in the area. We probably paid more for the tree at Lowes, but it's a pretty Noble Fir, nearly perfectly even all the way around, and was convenient on a day that we were a bit tight on time.

Our tree is decorated with a mish-mash of ornaments from our childhoods, plus some others that we've received in more recent years from my mom or friends, plus others that we've bought ourselves for one reason or another. There's absolutely no theme to it. It's not designer-decorated. It's definitely a hodge-podge tree. :)



Noby's under the tree, checking out ornaments. He's been a bit hyper with the tree so far, but honestly not too bad. I've only had to collect maybe six ornmanets so far.

Gus has moved on from attacking the tree to relishing the crack-cocaine for all cats: tree water.



No real tree in a house full of cats is complete, after all, without cats drinking the tree water. It's the only water bowl they'd drink out of, if it were available 24/7 this month.

Setting up the tree was a bit of an adventure, however, and its tale is today's Holidailies entry...

Last year, we didn't put a tree up. We knew we'd be going to Pennsylvania for Christmas and didn't feel comfortable leaving a tree up for days on end with the cats unattended, particularly since Gus had managed to kill the Christmas tree the year before by literally body slamming it to death. So our ornaments were packed away in those fantastic Rubbermaid ornament boxes in our storage space for two years.

With trepidation, we began decorating the tree this year. Gus is now two and slightly past his completely crazy kitten stage, but he still gets "the rips" rather often and can do a ton of damage now that he's MonsterKitten. Add to that two nearly 5-month old kittens, and the tree is a recipe for disaster.

So to avoid some of the issues, we set up the tree in the sunroom, which has a door that can lock the tree away from frantic felines, yet is a glass door so we can still enjoy the sight of it while sitting on the couch. This gives us peace of mind when we're at work, too, because the cats are simply not allowed in the sunroom right now.

The super fragile and old ornaments that we didn't want to risk with kittens were kept wrapped in the ornament boxes. Everything else is either shatterproof or up on the tree high enought so as not to have to worry about them.

We have two boxes of ornaments. Erich was working through one box, and I was going through the other. These boxes have the cardboard compartments for ornaments, which I love. Out of habit, I still wrap everything in tissue paper and put them inside the cubbies, though. My parents had lots of those handmade beaded ornaments (with all of the pushpins), and to make sure they didn't come loose while carrying boxes, everything was well-wrapped.

I completed the first layer of cubbies and got to the lower layer. To my relief, it was mostly an old set of pink satin & lace balls that my parents had used on garlands going up the hallway stairs. Most of these balls were unwrapped. But in the center cubbie, I noticed a shredding of tissue paper that filled one single cubbie all the way to the top of the square.

"Erich, did you have some frustration with tissue paper when we packed these up?" I asked, intending to tease him about some inner tissue anger management issues, pointing at the cubbie.

Erich looked at it, confused, and said no.

I said something joking in return, but noticed he was looking at it quietly.

"You know, that looks like a mouse house," he said.

I stop smiling. Wait a minute... was this the box that had the broken snap lock on it? I thought.

I nervously took a dead twig from our branch scraps and poked it into the top of the tissue paper, and lifted up. Almost immediately, the tissue paper broke to reveal a pillowy, gauzy material that looked shredded and very... nestlike.

Oh. My. God.

Then I saw the traces of mouse in the bottom of the tub-- small mouse droppings. Honestly not many at all- whatever mouse was living in here must not have stayed too long. But enough to prove that yes, it was, in fact, a mouse house. Erich moved over, and pointed out that there were holes across the top of the cardboard cubbies.

"Let's get this tub to the kitchen now," he said.

A good idea, too-- because a couple of kittens were starting to get mighty interested in this tub and the smells of rodent that remained within.

We carried it to the kitchen, where Erich grabbed a set of cheapo tongs and a trash bag to start pulling out the nest. It quickly became apparent that the pillowy material was the remnants of one of the satin balls-- shredded into its softer, warmer form. About a half-dozen other balls were partially shredded, too, and had to be tossed out.

The majority of the balls, thankfully, were untouched and unstained. Erich put them aside in another box. Sometime before we pack everything up, I'll go over each of the balls with the rubber gloves, Lysol, and Nature's Miracle to clean them thoroughly. For the time being, the now empty box is out in the garage-- also to be Lysolled thorougly before we pack the ornaments away again.

*shudder*

It makes for interesting memories, though. That's for sure.

Movies

Erich and I saw The Chronicles of Narnia last night as an impromptu date-night. Honestly, I thought the movie was just okay. Beautiful to look at, but the entire story seemed rushed and superficial to me. Erich's comment was that he didn't think the main characters really seemed all that important-- I have to agree. It seemed like most of the detailing of the main plot was skipped over. Perhaps it was a time thing, but honestly, I'd rather the movie be longer with more depth. Kids can handle long movies if what's on screen captivates them. Harry Potter and Star Wars come to mind.

Granted, I haven't read the book in twenty years or so and never read the entire series (I started book 3, but never finished it). So honestly, I'm not that familiar with C. S. Lewis' writing anymore. But it just seemed kinda... there. I admit that I was a bit confused as to all of the hoopla about Christian allegory leading up to the movie, since I didn't recall it in the book. Yeah-- well, I'll chalk that up to being a kid and having it fly over my head. Because the movie was full of it, and I'm sure the book has even more. It doesn't bother me, of course.

Tilda Swinton blew me away as the White Witch. I find her to be such an intriguing actress. Visibly, she's a chameleon. Very beautiful and graceful, but with this underlying air that can turn her to an image of absolute horror simply by changing her experession. She brought this coldness to the White Witch and played her perfectly-- seductive and evil. I loved it. I was introduced to Ms. Swinton in Constantine last year, where I was extremely impressed that they'd found a woman who could play Gabriel as the androgynous character (s)he is alluded to be. Beautiful and handsome together at the same time. It's a rare feat.

I guess I just wanted more from this movie. It definitely had potential. And as I said, it was beautiful to look at. But it just. didn't. go. far. enough. It does, however, make me want to read the book again. :)

One thing I did notice last night? The theater was dead. For a holiday movie - and a family movie - at a 7:30 showing on its opening weekend? Dead quiet. The theater was maybe a quarter full. The theater we go to is a nice one with stadium seating right next to the mall (which was PACKED, of course).

But yay! to the new Pirates of the Carribean trailer. That should be fun next summer. :)

I expect to be at the theater a lot over the next few weeks. Lots of movies out that I want to see-

- Walk the Line
- Syriana
- Memoirs of a Geisha
- Harry Potter 4 (again... preferably in IMAX)
- Pride & Prejudice

Maybe Erich and I should just spend Christmas Day at the movies... ;)

Cookie goodness

It's snowy. It's Christmas-ey. My beautiful, rarely used Kitchen-Aid Mixer calls for the annual CookieFest. This Saturday, I bake.

Oh yes, I will bake. In my own kitchen.

*rubs hands together excitedly*


Tomorrow's baking treasures will include the following:

Michelle's intriguing Apple Caramel cookies

My modified Neiman Marcus cookie recipe (yes, I've actually made the cookies from that damn forward)

Some basic, good ol' Nestle Toll House cookies (with added holiday shapes in the bag)


The two recipes not Nestle related---


Chewy Caramel Apple Cookies (by Michelle)

1 cup butter, softened
1 cup packed light brown sugar
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
3 tbsp apple cider
1-1/2 cup flour
1-1/2 cup quaker quick-cook oats
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 cup packed dried apple rings
30 caramel candies

Unwrap caramels and quarter. Measure out apples-- pack as tightly as possible in measuring cup. Then chop into small bits.

Preheat oven to 350 deg. F.

In mixer, combine butter and sugars and blend until creamed. Add eggs, one at a time, mix gently. Add cider.

In separate bowl, combine flour, soda, salt, and oats. Slowly add to sugar mixture, blending well. Once mixed well, add apples and caramels. Stir until well mixed.

Drop by rounded tablespoon-full onto a non-stick or well-greased cookie sheet. Leave at least one inch between dough balls.

Bake for 15 minutes or until golden. Let set on cookie sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to cooling rack.


-----

Modified "Neiman Marcus" cookie recipe (by Measi)

** note-- this makes a ton of cookies. If not making for a party or a group of male gamer geeks, I highly recommend halving.

2 cups butter, softened
4 cups flour
2 tsp baking soda
2 cups sugar
5 cups Quaker oats, blended
24 oz. chocolate chips
2 cups packed brown sugar
1 tsp salt
4 eggs
2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp vanilla
3 cups chopped nuts (optional)

Preheat oven to 375 deg. F.

Using food processor, blend oats into a fine powder. Set aside in bowl.

Using mixer, combine and cream butter and both sugars. Add eggs and vanilla. Mix together well.

In separate bowl, combine flour, oats, salt, baking soda, and baking powder.

Slowly cobmine sugar mixture with dry ingredients. Mix well at low speed.

Add chocolate chips (and nuts, if desired).

Roll into 1" balls and place on parchment paper-covered cookie sheet (or non-stick). Place balls 2" apart on sheet.

Bake 10 minutes, or until golden. Cool on racks. Makes 80-100 cookies.

----

Anyone else have cookie recipes to share? :)

Um... goo?

Okay... time to go home. Seriously.

It's THUNDERSNOWING out there.

I'm walking down Boylston Street after an oh-so-good lunch of sushi and lots of miso soup, when this HUGE pink flash goes off. I'm wondering who is taking photos out in this weather, when I hear the boom and ongoing rumble.

Ah, yes. That freak weather event.

Thundersnow.

And now wind that's blowing the snow sideways.


*sigh*

And the world crashes to a halt

Newsflash to New Englanders: You live in a place with snow in the winter. We go through this routine every year. It's not the end of the world when it snows. School doesn't need to be cancelled with three effing inches of snow on the ground, even if the white stuff is coming down.

Drive a little slower, especially when making turns. Use that strange stick off of your steering wheel that creates that clicking noise and the yellow lights... BEFORE you actually start to change lanes ('cause it really doesn't do much good if you're already halfway into mine before you put it on-- I got that you're shoving over at that point, thanks).

And for the love of all that is good and holy, put your damn headlights on. I realize it's a bit much to ask you to brush a couple inches of wet, fresh snow off of your windshields-- because that is simply far too logical.

But dude, seriously. Lights.

And not just the fucking runners. The big white -- or those eye-blinding blue, if you insist - orbs in the front.


Grazie.


-----

My office is fairly abandoned today. I think that most of the schools have closed, so today's attendance is revealing the childless among us. The snow's coming down at a good clip in big gobs of white. It's sloppy. It's wet. It's everything that a pre-Christmas snowstorm should be. Although I have to say, it's actually not too bad right now in Boston. The wind hasn't kicked up yet, so you can walk fairly easily across Back Bay.

I don't expect to be able to repeat this feat this evening, when the wind tunnel effect kicks in and blows people down the slushy sidewalks into the alleys near Back Bay Station. I'm seriously debating altering my route to meet Erich at South Station and hop the #10 bus to Southie 'cause I can pick that up right across the street, rather than walk several blocks.

I'm just hoping that the reports I saw last night don't come true. If it's going to snow, stay as snow. I'd rather be able to at least enjoy the pretty whiteness tomorrow morning as I have coffee next to the Christmas tree, rather than deal with a mess of rainy and icy slush. Pretty please?

Cold December Morning

I first woke up this morning before dawn as I heard a weird noise in the neighborhood. Oh, it's Thursday. Recycling truck. Meh. But then I noticed something-- that's all I heard. My brain quickly started processing things as it forced me to physically sit up and take note of my surroundings.

Dead to the world Erich next to me. Check.

Four of five cats sprawled or curled up in various positions on the bed with us. Check.

Early morning radiator sounds? (crickets)

Ahem-- early morning radiator sounds? (still crickets)

Shit. Okay-- did we run out of water in the boiler? Gotta get up, go downstairs to the basement. Fuck it's cold. What time is it, anyway?

Time? Alarm clock's blank.

So's the cable box clock. Oh. Power's out. And it's really fucking cold.

At this point, my body's starting to wake up, so I need to use the bathroom. I practically hop back to the bedroom afterward because the wood floor is painful to my bare feet. Colley, who normally accompanies me anywhere I go, is still the lump of fur on the bed where I left him. The bed, at least, is relatively warm. Especially with a 6'3" tall human male (translation=furnace) and three other cats.

I scoot back into bed and nudge Erich. "Hon, where's your Blackberry?"

"s'downstairs, why?"

"The power's out. You need to set your alarm."

"mmmnnnfffff."

He gets up. He gets the Blackberry. He sets it. We mumble a couple more things. He falls back asleep. I try to, but the residual morning cough from last week's cold decides to stir up. I grab a cough drop, curl my body around Colley, and start dozing.

"Errrrk..." *sounds of things whirring as the furnace kicks in two floors below*

'sabout time

fall back asleep...


It was a slow morning, needless to say. We finally left the house around 8:45. I got to work at 10:30.

Honestly? I'd rather have stayed in bed. Now I'm practically attached to my space heater because I swear it's only 50 degrees in here. Maybe.

I think the problem is that I'm in denial of the whole winter thing right now. I normally enjoy the cold weather. This year, it seems to have hit way too fast, even ignoring the reality that it's December in New England. Despite the cold at night, I refuse to wear long PJ pants to bed. So by around 4 a.m., once Colley has taken over the middle of the bed and the comforter is all skewed so that my ass is barely covered by only the thin bedsheet, I'm freezing. (if only it implied that my ass would actually fall off, I probably wouldn't mind so much!)

How many more months of this weather before I can bitch about heat and humidity again? ;)

Drowning in Rivers of Satin

Growing up, I had the typical girly-girl dreams of marriage in a church, a long flowing train behind me, with all of my family and friends beaming as I walked up the aisle in some completely poufy, princessy dress. Somewhere along the way, I'm sure I also dreamed that flowers would sprout from the imprints of every footstep, and fairy godmother-like billows of glittery love would spread out during the wedding, too.

To sum up, I seemed to want a Barbie doll wedding.

And that's rather odd, considering I never was big on Barbie dolls as a kid. Poofy dresses however, I craved. If my parents would have allowed it, I guarantee I would have been wearing 50's era circle skirts complete with criolines to school every day. As it was, I was able to get out of the house wearing them fairly often. :)

So when it came to dreaming of a wedding dress, something completely utterly (insert swoon) romantic would be the only thing that would do, right?

Well, fast forward about twenty years, and the entire concept of wedding dress hunting has become a nightmare. I no longer have the slender, dancer’s figure that I did in high school. I’ve definitely swerved from girly-girl to tomboy. I avoid almost all things frilly, glittery, and most of all… pink. I swear that Cinderella's evil stepmother is physically in the dressing rooms, ready to cackle and condemn me-- only me, for both my size and horrible appearance in a wedding gown. Nightmare in White Satin-- that's sure to be me, once I get a dress. Whomever goes to a fitting with me is sure to have her eyes burned out of her sockets by the horror of the vision in front of them.

My friends, being the wonderfully patient women that they are, insist that I’m over-reacting, attempting to calm me down while at least visibly resisting the urge to roll their eyes at my frenzy. A couple of them offer to go with me, especially after early signs of my mom becoming Motherzilla-of-bride this summer.

I was fully prepared to be calling them in a panic this spring because omigoditsonlysixmonthsawayandidonthaveadress would be setting in.

But then the first dress sampling came with no fanfare. We walked right into a salon, no appointment, completely out of the blue, last Friday. We did this while we were on a hunt for shoes for my mother for her holiday party. The store next door to the dress salon was a specialized shoe store, and my mom wanted to “just pop in” to the dress shop “since we were there.”

It was quiet, being around 11 a.m. on a Friday. The woman working at the shop was quite welcoming and not at all pushy. They had a limited number of plus-sized dresses. Everything was sold off the rack there, so it was a “what you see is what you get,” plus alterations as needed.

The largest dress they had was a size 24. The woman also recommended trying on a size 22. This surprised me because everything I’ve read about wedding gowns suggested that they tend to run small, and I wear a 24 or 26 in street clothes. The dresses that were available were all in their protective bags, so we eliminated gowns by the decoration on the bodices to start. We came up with two to try.

And almost immediately, I groaned as I went into the dressing room—because this just HAD to be the day that I was wearing my comfy slack-off day leopard-print mesh underwear. JUST what I want to be showing off to my mother and some complete stranger as they help me step into wedding dresses.

Ugh.

Ah well, suck it up and deal. It wasn’t like I was wearing the right kind of bra for this, either. It was a basic utilitarian white day.

The first dress was the size 22. It was very pretty and light fabric, which I was specifically looking for. It was a straight-cut neckline with tiny spaghetti straps, champagne colored, and elegantly beaded all over the bodice. The a-line skirt and train were plain. The train was designed to bustle nicely in back.

My mom helped me into the dress—I was surprised just how much help was needed to get into it. But it closed! A Size 22! And it wasn’t pulling! Mentally I was bouncing and screaming in glee that a 22 was fitting. Because THAT meant I had some size room for dresses, and I wasn’t doomed be trying on sizes 28 or 30, as I was lead by the bridal magazines to believe would be happening.

The dress now on, I tiptoed, dress hem lifted in hands, over to the alteration area and up on a dias. Mirrors surrounded me. And there I was, standing in my first wedding dress ever, looking in the mirror at the reality of what was coming up in my life for the first time, my mom beaming as she helped adjust the train to trellis down the stair.

Holy shit, this is weird.

And I really, really liked the dress. I’ll put it on just a smidge off of feeling like a princess. It fit quite well, too—in my incorrect undergarments for the special occasion, only a few spots would need tucks and alterations. Nothing needed to be let out. It was all taking in. The sales clerk gave me some ideas on how they could alter it, including adjusting the back if I preferred to have a ribbon lattice look, but did declare that it was fitting quite well for a first try, especially for wearing an everyday bra.

My mom loved it, too.

But I resisted the urge to do “THIS ONE!” immediately, given it was the very first dress I’d tried, AND we hadn’t checked out the reputation of the salon or their policies.

I went back to the dressing room to try on the second dress.

To sum up the second, it didn’t fit well at all—the fabric was heavy and sat on me even heavier. The cut hit me wrong. Although for the first time in years, I felt very tiny in the boob department—whomever this dress was cut for must be a fat chick porn star who’d gone over to Europe for the huge implants—because the bustline was easily four times the size of mine. That, or it was designed for me to rest one of our cats during the wedding ceremony. Because… damn. It had to be somewhere in the M-range for cup size.

That is about all that should be noted about that second dress.

So back to the first dress…. ;)

Last night, I talked to Mom briefly just to catch up on things from the weekend after she left, thank her again for all that she did for us for the house, and share some amusing stories about the combination of a Christmas tree and four month old kittens.

I mention to her that I did really like that dress. She gushed about it over the phone. But then I said "But I don't want to rush into it too quickly. I mean, it's the first one that I tried on..."

She replied, "Well, you bought the first house you saw, didn't you?"


She does have a point...

;)

Holidailies commences

It's December 7th, which this year marks the beginning of the Holidailies season. There might be some strange entry writing here, but I'll be forcing myself to write every day... hopefully multiple times every day... for the next month. :)

Since it is the beginning of Holidailies, and I've also met several new people online in the past several months, I'll start this year's challenge by simply reintroducing myself. Whatever bio is linked to my journal probably hasn't been updated for years at this point, and well... it's been a life-changing year.

Those who know me, stop snorting due to obvious-ness of that statement.


Anyway... hi, how are ya? :) My name's Melissa. I normally go by Mel, or by my childhood nickname-turned-online handle, Measi. I'm 30. I’ve been blogging online for just shy of five years now, and I literally write about everything and anything here—so if you pop by every day, you’ll find completely random topics to read about.

I'm engaged to a wonderful man named Erich. We're coming up on a year of engagement next month and are just starting the wedding plans. (we're shooting for next October, but we haven't finalized a date yet). Erich and I bought our first house this year, moved in at the end of June, and now are adjusting to life as homeowners , long distance commuters, and that odd sense of settling down into that life that we saw our parents living, but didn't think we'd ever quite reach.

We live in Providence, Rhode Island, having escaped Massachusetts and the frightening housing market that exists there. Rhode Island, being the smallest state in the United States, also has the longest official name: State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations. I have not yet seen any evidence of plantations in Providence. Perhaps, though, my idea of great southern mansions isn’t quite what they mean by “plantation.” In any case, I like it here. It’s a very small state—only a bit more than 30 by 40 miles. But because of its location, it’s a huge melting pot of generations, cultures, and economic classes. Diversity is good. Erich and I both still commute to our jobs in Boston, however, so in many ways, we still haven’t left Massachusetts.

We're owned by five... yes, five... cats. Numbers four and five joined us this past September, and we recognize that we’ve finally reached official “Crazy Cat People” status. You’ll see entries about them throughout the month, but to sum up, we have Colley, Fizzy, Gus, Noby, and Elly.

My hobbies include writing (blogging, stories, penpal letters, etc.), reading, cross-stitch, computer games, and movies. Both Erich and I are bonafide geeks—we play Dungeons & Dragons every month. We go to Renaissance Fairs in period garb. Occasionally, we hit the fandom convention circuit.

So that’s me in a nutshell. Welcome into my little corner of the internet. I love to hear from anyone who’s reading, so please drop a line in my comments to say hi or drop me an email! And please let me know if there’s a topic you’d love to have me write about over the month, whether holiday-related or not. With few exceptions, I’m up for anything!

Best,
Mel