29 April 2008

Secret Identities

As a writer, one of the more fun things I've thought about and discussed was a pen name. What name would I use? My maiden name? A made up name? A combination of family names? I just can't decide.

Then that pondering branches out to screen names. It took me awhile to come up with "Firegirl". Essentially, I just made a list of likes and attributes and viola! There was Firegirl. (the fact that it sounds like a super hero name? all the better)

Why is it so difficult to think of screen names and passwords? Or is it just me? They say you should have multiples of both in order to thwart identity theft. (again with the super hero thing..."thwart")

Use nicknames? yeah, that works but it's not very fun. I don't use my real name as I like to be Anonymous Girl (again, super hero theme) and my name (married & given) is plain.
Plus, I admire people when I see clever screen names. I'm always a little jealous.

And passwords, forget about it. I use two. Two are all that I can manage. (I heard that gasp, you IT people out there)
AND I have a list of them written down so I can keep track of which use which. How do people remember these things? I can't remember to pack my lunch most days. FOOD, I forget food. How can I remember the password for my cell phone account is Punkin93? (it's not...gotcha)

I thought I was so clever once and tried to just use the name or initials of the site and the actual word "password" but some of the password Gods would reject it so that didn't work. Sigh...it's just too hard.

So Firegirl it is.

Sneaky Little Bastard

Again, continued from a previous post...

I've found that Sneaky Little Bastard doesn't like a few things. He doesn't like:

Fresh air.
Iced Mochas.
Country Music. (insert snarky comment here, music snobs!)
Chiropractic adjustments.
Busyness. (activity...or okay, fine, you could call it exercise too)

While his ugly head still rears occasionally. He usually sulks off with the application of any of the above. Sneaky little bastard.

Street Wear!

Believe it or not, that's the actual name of a fingernail polish. And while you would think it was a scarlet color, it's actually a very mellow pink/skin color.

It was a donation that came into work the other day. After I was done mocking the name of it, I noticed that it was actually kind of a nice color. So I tried it. I know! A GIRLY thing, I did it! With minimal amount of fuss, nonetheless.

It looked okay. It was a little jarring to look down at my hands and see polish at first. I kind of grooved on it for awhile. But then...it chipped. Ugh.

I forget this. I every once in a while use polish. Usually based around some sort of an event: a wedding perhaps. But then it chips and I'm pissed.

And again, attention span of a small child, I forget that I have to take the polish off. I forget that there's maintenance. AND THEN I remember WHY I don't use polish.

It's not like it's rocket science, really but it just irritates me.

So, today I spent minutes scrubbing the damn stuff off. We'll see if I do it again later. Right now I'm looking at the bottle with disdain.

It ain't easy being green...

or is it?

Fred Meyer grocery stores (Kroger in some areas) are giving away the mesh grocery bags if you spend a certain amount this month. (commerce & environmentalism collide in a strange, satisfying way)

I have been intending for a YEAR to buy those bags. I am filled with guilt when I see how many plastic bags I bring home each Saturday. I try to remember to recycle them but c'mon you've met me (sorta) I have the attention span of a small child.

So it was with relief when the cashier gave me three bags! I've left them in the truck, with the theory I'll remember to take them inside.

There's really no excuse not to use these bags. They're CHEAP, under a dollar unless you want the decorated ones. (which I do, contributing to the said procrastination)

The other green thing we did that was fairly painless was when we bought this house. We took all the incandescent bulbs out and put in fluorescents. Ta dah! Happier environment, happier electricity bill!

We're on a well and sewer system so we recycle that way....ew factor, sorry about that.

We recycle our newspapers, magazines and plastics. Gold star = Us.

It's quite simple actually being green. Just a little green. Al Gore isn't going to come knock on the door and congratulate me but that's okay.

C'mon, all the cool kids are doing it.

My Name Is Earl

Not really....but it should be.

I really must figure out who or what I've cosmically wronged because I'm getting pretty damned tired.

Yesterday, the brakes went out on my truck. Yeah, Brakes. I need those. Especially when my work is on a HILL.

Now, a suspicious mind would wonder if I am trapped in a Lifetime Made for TV movie. I flip my truck and I survive with minor injuries. Wait a few months and my brakes fail...what the hell?
But I am confident that the MG is not trying to kill me.

So, that leaves Karmic Debt. Somewhere I owe Karma something. I must find out what and rectify it. Seriously.

Any suggestions? I didn't go see the Dali Lama when he was in town, was that it? Tickets were sold out! (that's a total assumption, I don't really know)

Division of Labor

Dear Readers who've paid attention and have good memories will remember my Division of Labor post from awhile ago...I wish I was patient enough to link it, really I do...

Division of Labor in our household is quite simple:
Inside = Me
Outside = Mad Genius

Vehicles = Him
People = Me

Anyone who balks at this idea...me, the lowly housewife while MG does stuff outside randomly, can unbalk... While I am here in my cozy office and listening to Jack Johnson, he is laying in our gravel driveway, under my truck fixing my brakes. For this, I will gladly clean his toilets, wash his clothes and pay his bills. For *I* am not laying in gravel, cover in grease and cursing profusely at the fitting that won't come lose.

And by him doing so accomplishes a few things: the lack of a huge repair bill, my continual state of cozy and oh, a truck that stops. For this, I will make him that nasty Hamburger Helper dinner that he LOVES and I retch at the mere thought of.

Way to Go Ashley!

First Female Funny Car Driver Winner & Points Leader


26 April 2008

You're Gonna Miss This...

Trace Adkins has a new song out right now, titled the above. It tells the story of a teenage girl as she ages to a mom. The moral being "You're going to miss this so stop wishing for the future."

The Mad Genius mentioned the song the other day and said it actually made him reflective.
It reminded him of when he was younger and always had friends around. Now everyone has their own lives and he doesn't see them as often.

Or now that his parents have aged, how active they used to be back-in-the-day. MG's parents would go to our parties and dance the night away. They would go four-wheeling. Now they're both in their 70's, those days are long gone.

And as I think about it. There are times that I miss, mostly quite the same as MG's. Times when everyone traveled as a group. When there WAS a group of us, before adult responsibilities intervened. I miss just the plain spontaneity of being young, of being able to drop everything without planning or worrying.

It's difficult to see the right now from the future. But it's intriguing to think about. What about right now are we going to miss?

Yeah, What He Said

"I cannot hold up any book and say, 'Here. This is what I believe.' I do not know of any church where I would feel at home. But I do believe that what people call God refers to something real... I would even go so far as to say that this God of mine makes demands. To learn, to teach, to engage. To be aware of and respect the world around me. To acknowledge that there are things greater then myself and to be humble in their presence." -- Dan Jackson

And then there is this passage that made me laugh...nipped from Andrew Sullivan's blog...

Driscoll put this bluntly in his sermon "Death by Love" at the 2006 Resurgence theology conference (available at TheResurgence.com). According to Driscoll, "real men" avoid the church because it projects a "Richard Simmons, hippie, queer Christ" that "is no one to live for [and] is no one to die for."

Driscoll explains, "Jesus was not a long-haired … effeminate-looking dude"; rather, he had "callused hands and big biceps." This is the sort of Christ men are drawn to—what Driscoll calls "Ultimate Fighting Jesus."

14 April 2008

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

the view from my office...
If you look closely, you can see signs of *SPRING*

11 April 2008


This is what I love about baseball: tradition and superstition! A Red Sox jersey under the new Yankee Stadium. Love, love, love it! www.nypost.com


09 April 2008

Free Pass

The beginning of this post won't so much be timely but bear with me.

The Eliot Spitzer "scandal" has brought up a few conversations in this household. According to the New York Times, the scandal has kicked open the door for conversations in quite a few relationships regarding fidelity.

Firstly, this is kind of unrelated but it makes me laugh every time I think of it:
During all the press coverage the night the story broke, all I could picture was Hilary and Bill Clinton sitting at the dinner table eating when suddenly Hilary just bitch-slaps Bill without warning.
I can't imagine how PISSED she must have been that the whole Monica thing was suddenly again in the spotlight.

So, infidelity. It's usually quite the black & white topic. But for me it's not. Again, the time worn "There's three sides to every story" comes into play. I usually don't assume that the adulterer is automatically guilty. Do I place responsibility on the adulterer? YES. But there are usually reasons behind the actions. (sometimes simply the person is an ass)

There is a deejay in Seattle that often has his wife on the air with him. Her name is (I choose to think it's her radio name) Scallops. During this time, they discussed how Scallops has given her husband a one-time free pass. If he cheats, she would rather not know about it.

Before your head explodes, bear with me.

There are stipulations. It's a ONE TIME THING. The example she gives is that He makes a bad choice, puts himself into a bad situation, or they are simply not in a good space, whatever, and he has sex with someone. ONCE. Not a relationship: SEX.

AND only if he realizes that he's f*cked up literally and figuratively, and chooses to return to her forevermore.

I have to say I agree with her. If the MG lost his mind and did some chick but then realized his mistake and intended to never do it again, I would rather not know.

Of course, I say this knowing it's highly unlikely. (as he himself pointed out) But also, I know human nature and it causes us to do some pretty stupid shit. I would like to have a pass if that were ever to happen to me.

Dear Abby has written about admitting mistakes - inclusive of infidelity - and she says that sometimes admitting the mistakes only helps the person who made them. However, it destroys the other person. In that perspective: admitting it would be cruel and destructive when it didn't need to happen.

Of course there are many angles in which to look at this and I realize that I am probably in the minority. That's okay.

You may now proceed with the "WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU THINKING!?!" comments....

Jack Johnson

...could sing the Alphabet and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and I would buy the freaking album.

I'm just saying.

It's a sign

So on Saturday, the Mad Genius and I went on a small-ish road trip. Racing season is beginning soon so we went to pick up race fuel some distance away.

The two of us tend to get into deep conversations while in the car. I don't know why this is and it's not to imply that we have shallow conversations at home. It's just something we do. It's almost therapeutic. The topics can range from family to world issues to religion.

For some reason, the subject of God, faith and religion came up. As from my previous post, you know that this has been a regular occurrence lately. I am not sure why.

The Mad Genius is Agnostic. He, being hard-wired the way he is, questions Everything. He doesn't understand my faith....faith being the understanding that my beliefs just "are". Not "faith" as in I am Catholic, Mormon or Lutheran but as in I simply believe there is a power greater than us and I don't require extraordinary proof to believe.

So, as we speed down I-5, we notice a mini-van pass us. The passenger waves and gives us a thumbs up. Now, to risk sounding fat-headed, we've become a little used to thumbs-up in traffic but ONLY when towing the racecar. We were just in my truck. MG puzzled for a moment and then pointed out the back of the van. They had the fish symbol on their bumper. As did we.

For some reason beyond our explanation, they chose that moment to acknowledge our sticker.

Now if that's not some sort of sign, then nothing is.


She returns! In my most youngest-child, Saggitarian-like way I always eventually resurface.

I've had little to say I guess, but as I think about it: that's hardly possible. I *always* have *something* to say!

And I have had great (as far as you know) ideas for blogs. But *head slap* I failed to write them down. However, sitting at the computer for long amounts of time have not so much been possible. But now I seem to be nearly healed from that silly little roll-over.

So bear with me while I re-gather my thoughts................on we go..........