I always get a good feeling when I visit my gynecologist--obviously not in a physical sense, but rather an emotional one. The truth is, I really like my gynecologist as a person. He is a shy, unassuming older man with a dry wit and sweet disposition. Given any other circumstance, he'd be the kind of person I would choose as my friend. Even though our association has been limited to regular office visits, I believe my doctor could be someone Max and I would feel especially fond of. I can't explain my sentiment. I just know.
But in reality, could we be friends? Would it be weird to befriend your gynecologist once you ended your doctor/patient relationship? And if so, why? I have friends--ex-significant others--with whom I have been more intimately acquainted and managed to retain platonic relationships. I also have business associates--with whom I have not been intimately acquainted--that became good friends. So, why not an ex-gynecologist?
Riddle me this, please.
Showing posts with label random thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random thoughts. Show all posts
11.21.2008
Mr. Blackwell turning in his grave...
As a hausfrau, I am certainly not one to criticize other people's fashion choices. But this?? If you were worth 50 gazillion, don't you think you could afford to wear something a little better or at least hire a new style consultant?
Honestly, folks, I see this photo and I'm not sure whether to pity or mow her.
Honestly, folks, I see this photo and I'm not sure whether to pity or mow her.
8.28.2008
Because That’s How I Roll
This week, I have been pondering unity, or rather, disunity. There is so much of it in the world, a person only needs to turn on his or her television to be reminded of it. Especially during a political season, disunity is so apparent. In the U.S., thoughtful and passionate people identify themselves as either Democrats or Republicans. The country is eagerly divided between red states and blue states when, in fact, it’s actually colored hues of violet.
But, political ideology isn’t the sole instrument of division and the problem isn't limited to the United States. Religion, race, gender, nationality, sexual orientation, educational and economic status have, for generations, been used to separate people from one and other.
And, I can’t help but wonder why it has to be this way. Because that’s how I roll.
I have my theories, of course. I believe many find it easier to hate than to love. It’s also easier to quickly throw our hands up in confusion, than take the time to understand something different, or to demonstrate fear rather than courage.
By choosing to cut a person up into categories--black, white, Muslim, Christian, Jew, gay, straight, Democrat, Republic, man, woman, poor, rich, native, or foreign--rather than seeing him or her as whole, we are being weak-minded and following a path of least resistance.
I don’t have to agree with a person in every way to be his or her friend. People don’t have to come from a similar background, share a faith, or live a particular lifestyle for me to value their existence. I wouldn’t want a world full of people just like me because it would be as interesting and beautiful as a monochromatic rainbow. And while I don’t turn a blind eye to stark differences between peoples, cultures, and ideologies, I believe in looking, first and foremost, at what is shared and common.
Because that’s how I roll.
Acceptance doesn’t mean agreement. Tolerance doesn’t always equal condonation. All I strive for is respect and understanding. It’s really not that lofty of a goal.
I support thoughtful and vigorous debate, but to disagree without being disagreeable. I believe my own truths as well people’s right to have and believe in their own truths. Rather than see the world in terms of black and white, I much prefer a pleasing sepia tone or any shade of grey. Unfortunately, I’m not seeing much grey matter-- figuratively and literally--in what is presented in the media, from the pulpit, and from world leaders these days. And I can’t help but hang my head in embarrassment and grieve for a better, more united, world.
Because that’s how I roll.
But, political ideology isn’t the sole instrument of division and the problem isn't limited to the United States. Religion, race, gender, nationality, sexual orientation, educational and economic status have, for generations, been used to separate people from one and other.
And, I can’t help but wonder why it has to be this way. Because that’s how I roll.
I have my theories, of course. I believe many find it easier to hate than to love. It’s also easier to quickly throw our hands up in confusion, than take the time to understand something different, or to demonstrate fear rather than courage.
By choosing to cut a person up into categories--black, white, Muslim, Christian, Jew, gay, straight, Democrat, Republic, man, woman, poor, rich, native, or foreign--rather than seeing him or her as whole, we are being weak-minded and following a path of least resistance.
I don’t have to agree with a person in every way to be his or her friend. People don’t have to come from a similar background, share a faith, or live a particular lifestyle for me to value their existence. I wouldn’t want a world full of people just like me because it would be as interesting and beautiful as a monochromatic rainbow. And while I don’t turn a blind eye to stark differences between peoples, cultures, and ideologies, I believe in looking, first and foremost, at what is shared and common.
Because that’s how I roll.
Acceptance doesn’t mean agreement. Tolerance doesn’t always equal condonation. All I strive for is respect and understanding. It’s really not that lofty of a goal.
I support thoughtful and vigorous debate, but to disagree without being disagreeable. I believe my own truths as well people’s right to have and believe in their own truths. Rather than see the world in terms of black and white, I much prefer a pleasing sepia tone or any shade of grey. Unfortunately, I’m not seeing much grey matter-- figuratively and literally--in what is presented in the media, from the pulpit, and from world leaders these days. And I can’t help but hang my head in embarrassment and grieve for a better, more united, world.
Because that’s how I roll.
6.19.2008
One more thing...
Max and I are still working out the details for our barbecue party. I am happy to report things are starting to come together. But I wanted to ask you for one more favor. I would like your suggestions for music. Max and I have already culled together some Caribbean music--mostly upbeat, classic reggae. But I also want to play other summer favorites from all sorts of genres and generations gone by.
So close your eyes and think SUMMER. Then, tell me what music you hear.
Again, all suggestions are greatly appreciated. I only wish you could be here to party with us.
So close your eyes and think SUMMER. Then, tell me what music you hear.
Again, all suggestions are greatly appreciated. I only wish you could be here to party with us.
6.17.2008
Appealing to the L.C.D.
Even though I got my start in television broadcasting with a small, FOX affiliate (back when the network programmed only a few nights a week), I always believed that the network tried to distinguish itself, not by appealing to the coveted 18-49 year age bracket, but by appealing to what those of us in the business referred to as the “L.C.D.” or lowest common denominator. After all, this was the network that launched the irreverent, but raunchy, Married With Children, which often got pulled from my South Carolina station’s Sunday line-up because of “objectionable content.”
I left the station and my association with FOX to go to the exciting world of computer software long before the advent of its news broadcasts. I couldn’t be happier with this decision, especially after seeing that, even with its so-called “news" programs, FOX still tries to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Check this out.
Seriously--Obama’s baby momma, which according to the Urban Dictionary is an "unmarried woman with whom you had children and are not otherwise involved with?" And FOX considers this appropriate and ethical journalism? Are you kidding me?
For an intellectual and thoughtful discussion of this topic, I recommend visiting Charlotte’s post. If you want a good, old-fashioned rant, just keep reading.
Honestly, bloggers, this isn’t about being Democrat or Republican, liberal or conservative. I respect thoughtful discussions about larger versus smaller government, national security, and the enviroment. What I can’t respect is outlandish ethnic, racial, or sexist slurs by an agency that fancies itself as being a respectable news agency. This sort of stunt by any news network certainly doesn’t measure up to my standards for solid journalism. Does it measure up to yours?
I left the station and my association with FOX to go to the exciting world of computer software long before the advent of its news broadcasts. I couldn’t be happier with this decision, especially after seeing that, even with its so-called “news" programs, FOX still tries to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Check this out.
Seriously--Obama’s baby momma, which according to the Urban Dictionary is an "unmarried woman with whom you had children and are not otherwise involved with?" And FOX considers this appropriate and ethical journalism? Are you kidding me?
For an intellectual and thoughtful discussion of this topic, I recommend visiting Charlotte’s post. If you want a good, old-fashioned rant, just keep reading.
Honestly, bloggers, this isn’t about being Democrat or Republican, liberal or conservative. I respect thoughtful discussions about larger versus smaller government, national security, and the enviroment. What I can’t respect is outlandish ethnic, racial, or sexist slurs by an agency that fancies itself as being a respectable news agency. This sort of stunt by any news network certainly doesn’t measure up to my standards for solid journalism. Does it measure up to yours?
6.11.2008
Things I don’t remember (but wish I did)
Your turn! What are some things you don’t remember, but wish you did?
3.21.2008
What I didn't blog about this week
Sunday - Max finally arrived and we decided to take advantage of the favorable exchange rate by going suit shopping for him. On any given day in Germany, I lounge around in hausfrau attire, while Max lives in 3-piece ensembles. During our afternoon shopping spree, Max purchased 3 suits, 1 sports jacket, 3 dress shirts, 2 ties, shoes, socks, and a belt.
Monday – With the cat away (a.k.a. Max back at the office), I decided what was good for the geese was good for the gander. The fact is I needed to improve my hausfrau wardrobe and went shopping at Ann Taylor for a new, more put together, look. Navy, kelly green, pale yellow—the colors and styles in the store remind me of the early-80s preppy fad. Can anyone tell me if there is a German word for “preppy?”
By the way, with our combined purchases, Max and I ended up borrowing a suitcase for the trip home.
Sunday - Thursday – Many wonderful, albeit short, visits with friends. I’ve run all over town, filling up every last minute, and have loved every minute of it.
Wednesday – A disturbing e-mail from a friend who is watching Charlie while we are away. She says he has been an uncharacteristically bad boy. Trust me--there is a weird twist to this story, which I am debating whether or not to share.
Friday –After we return to Germany, we will only have a few days before we leave for another vacation. Have I mentioned I’m going to Italy for 10 days? We leave next Thursday!
Monday – With the cat away (a.k.a. Max back at the office), I decided what was good for the geese was good for the gander. The fact is I needed to improve my hausfrau wardrobe and went shopping at Ann Taylor for a new, more put together, look. Navy, kelly green, pale yellow—the colors and styles in the store remind me of the early-80s preppy fad. Can anyone tell me if there is a German word for “preppy?”
By the way, with our combined purchases, Max and I ended up borrowing a suitcase for the trip home.
Sunday - Thursday – Many wonderful, albeit short, visits with friends. I’ve run all over town, filling up every last minute, and have loved every minute of it.
Wednesday – A disturbing e-mail from a friend who is watching Charlie while we are away. She says he has been an uncharacteristically bad boy. Trust me--there is a weird twist to this story, which I am debating whether or not to share.
Friday –After we return to Germany, we will only have a few days before we leave for another vacation. Have I mentioned I’m going to Italy for 10 days? We leave next Thursday!
3.20.2008
Tooth Fairy
If my hair appointment with Megan marked a highlight of my trip home, then yesterday’s visit to the dentist was the low point.
So you understand, Dr. Miller, a lovely woman, has been nothing but sweet, patient, and gentle with me during our 14-year doctor/patient relationship. Nevertheless, I loathe having to see her or anyone else in the office for that matter. My feeling is admittedly irrational, one of two phobias I have. This fear of dentistry is so extreme that, up until a couple years ago, I needed nitrous oxide (laughing gas) to get through routine cleanings. Once, my fear and emotions even made a dental hygienist cry.
It’s bad, really.
So you can imagine the delight when my dentist discovered I had developed a cavity on “number 30,” a back tooth on my lower, right side. As much as I would have liked to ignore the problem, Dr. Miller squeezed me in that day so I wouldn’t return to Germany untreated. This woman knows I would have let the tooth rot away rather than find a new dentist.
I was just a child the last time I had a cavity and couldn’t remember what this procedure entailed. In my hysteria, I sought comfort from friends and family. Everyone told me that getting a filling was “no big deal.” My sister Christina, who as a child was a dental disaster, assured me I’d feel little discomfort and be out of the dentist office in 20 minutes.
Yeah, right.
Because I locked up my jaw and made a tense face when Dr. Miller injected the Novocain, the first shot didn’t numb the right area of my mouth. It took three additional shots before my face felt like Pillsbury dough.
And because I made noises and faces after 5 minutes of drilling, Dr. Miller had to continue to stop and ask if I was doing all right. In other words, because of my phobia, a simple cavity took an hour and half to complete.
I left feeling a tad guilty when I saw the lobby backed up. I felt a little guilty that I had acted worse than most 6-year olds facing the same procedure. And when I got home after my ordeal with Dr. Miller, I took two aspirins to relieve a tension headache and a long nap to temporarily forget the experience.
How will I ever get through a root canal someday?
So you understand, Dr. Miller, a lovely woman, has been nothing but sweet, patient, and gentle with me during our 14-year doctor/patient relationship. Nevertheless, I loathe having to see her or anyone else in the office for that matter. My feeling is admittedly irrational, one of two phobias I have. This fear of dentistry is so extreme that, up until a couple years ago, I needed nitrous oxide (laughing gas) to get through routine cleanings. Once, my fear and emotions even made a dental hygienist cry.
It’s bad, really.
So you can imagine the delight when my dentist discovered I had developed a cavity on “number 30,” a back tooth on my lower, right side. As much as I would have liked to ignore the problem, Dr. Miller squeezed me in that day so I wouldn’t return to Germany untreated. This woman knows I would have let the tooth rot away rather than find a new dentist.
I was just a child the last time I had a cavity and couldn’t remember what this procedure entailed. In my hysteria, I sought comfort from friends and family. Everyone told me that getting a filling was “no big deal.” My sister Christina, who as a child was a dental disaster, assured me I’d feel little discomfort and be out of the dentist office in 20 minutes.
Yeah, right.
Because I locked up my jaw and made a tense face when Dr. Miller injected the Novocain, the first shot didn’t numb the right area of my mouth. It took three additional shots before my face felt like Pillsbury dough.
And because I made noises and faces after 5 minutes of drilling, Dr. Miller had to continue to stop and ask if I was doing all right. In other words, because of my phobia, a simple cavity took an hour and half to complete.
I left feeling a tad guilty when I saw the lobby backed up. I felt a little guilty that I had acted worse than most 6-year olds facing the same procedure. And when I got home after my ordeal with Dr. Miller, I took two aspirins to relieve a tension headache and a long nap to temporarily forget the experience.
How will I ever get through a root canal someday?
3.14.2008
What I didn’t blog about this week
Saturday – I could only smile when I saw foreign tourists lined up to take pictures with a life-sized, cardboard Barak Obama in front of one of the magazine stands at Washington Dulles airport. Granted I only passed Terminal C and D, but I found it odd that I didn’t see Clinton, McCain, or Bush in front of any shops.
Sunday - Globalization in Cary, NC. -- I did a double-take when I came across an ad for Aldi (a German discount grocery) in the Sunday edition of the News and Observer. It seems the chain has opened two locations in this part of North Carolina. According to the circular, I could purchase Deutsche Royal Ice Cream for $2.99 if I had a craving. Good to know.
Monday – My first ‘Norm from Cheers’ moment when Miss Lee, owner of my favorite Vietnamese restaurant and 14-year hangout, greeted me with hugs and tears. Talk about feeling special!
Tuesday – The difficulty of not having a cell phone…
Thursday – I have felt sick most of this week and decided to visit a local Urgent Care when a lower abominable pain felt worse over time. Despite my low expectation, a very thorough nurse practitioner discovered the cause after ordering a same-day ultrasound. More on that later…
Sunday - Globalization in Cary, NC. -- I did a double-take when I came across an ad for Aldi (a German discount grocery) in the Sunday edition of the News and Observer. It seems the chain has opened two locations in this part of North Carolina. According to the circular, I could purchase Deutsche Royal Ice Cream for $2.99 if I had a craving. Good to know.
Monday – My first ‘Norm from Cheers’ moment when Miss Lee, owner of my favorite Vietnamese restaurant and 14-year hangout, greeted me with hugs and tears. Talk about feeling special!
Tuesday – The difficulty of not having a cell phone…
Thursday – I have felt sick most of this week and decided to visit a local Urgent Care when a lower abominable pain felt worse over time. Despite my low expectation, a very thorough nurse practitioner discovered the cause after ordering a same-day ultrasound. More on that later…
3.12.2008
I'm a winner!
I don't recall entering the British Lottery, but somehow I won anyway. Notification came in the form of the e-mail.
"You won the sum of £1,000,000.00 GBP from our monthly sweepstakes,youare hereby advice to get back to us,Email:lotterybritish147@yahoo.se"
I believe this e-mail to be official. Typos aside, it uses "hereby" and only really important documents contain this word.
Coincidentally, I also won the Irish lottery. I almost missed out of this lucky fortune because my Hotmail account marked it as junk. Can you believe the nerve?
So now that I'm a £1,000,000.00 GBP winner, I'm all jittery inside. I can't figure out how should I spend my winnings. Got any advice for me?
"You won the sum of £1,000,000.00 GBP from our monthly sweepstakes,youare hereby advice to get back to us,Email:lotterybritish147@yahoo.se"
I believe this e-mail to be official. Typos aside, it uses "hereby" and only really important documents contain this word.
Coincidentally, I also won the Irish lottery. I almost missed out of this lucky fortune because my Hotmail account marked it as junk. Can you believe the nerve?
So now that I'm a £1,000,000.00 GBP winner, I'm all jittery inside. I can't figure out how should I spend my winnings. Got any advice for me?
3.06.2008
Bleh!!!
My world has been turned upside down. I discovered a falsehood in something I once thought was a universal truth.
All chocolate is NOT created equal.
Shocking, I know. This revelation came after biting into a bar that was, in fact, intended to be a gift after one of my recent dinner parties. While it looked like a tasty dark truffle mixed with cinnamon candy, it was actually a pairing of chocolate and some sort of cayenne pepper. I can take the heat, but the taste was truly terrible.
I apologize for not being able to post any more on this topic, but I must go and wash my mouth out with soap. Trust me, it’s certain to taste better.
All chocolate is NOT created equal.
Shocking, I know. This revelation came after biting into a bar that was, in fact, intended to be a gift after one of my recent dinner parties. While it looked like a tasty dark truffle mixed with cinnamon candy, it was actually a pairing of chocolate and some sort of cayenne pepper. I can take the heat, but the taste was truly terrible.
I apologize for not being able to post any more on this topic, but I must go and wash my mouth out with soap. Trust me, it’s certain to taste better.
2.29.2008
What I didn’t blog about this week
Saturday – Going head-to-head with a Russian and Guatemalan in shooting a very poor quality tequila called “Sierra”.
Sunday – The resulting hangover, staying in bed until 1pm while Max cleaned up the house post-party and never once made me feel guilty about it. Having my husband tell me that I attempted to give my dog, Charlie, tequila (at the urging of the Guatemalan), and not having a single recollection of this event.
Tuesday – Theresa not showing up for salsa class. Strange, no?
Wednesday – Finally having a working satellite connection for our television (yey!), also known as 57 Channels and Nothin’ On (boo!). We do have three English channels—BBC News, CNN World, Aljezeera English—Nickelodeon Germany, MTV Germany, a host French, Spanish, Austrian, Swiss, Turkish, and Arabic channels, and at least 15 different porn channels.
Friday – The fact that it's leap day and my second babysitting job *ever*—two 2-year old twins. I am afraid, very afraid!
Sunday – The resulting hangover, staying in bed until 1pm while Max cleaned up the house post-party and never once made me feel guilty about it. Having my husband tell me that I attempted to give my dog, Charlie, tequila (at the urging of the Guatemalan), and not having a single recollection of this event.
Tuesday – Theresa not showing up for salsa class. Strange, no?
Wednesday – Finally having a working satellite connection for our television (yey!), also known as 57 Channels and Nothin’ On (boo!). We do have three English channels—BBC News, CNN World, Aljezeera English—Nickelodeon Germany, MTV Germany, a host French, Spanish, Austrian, Swiss, Turkish, and Arabic channels, and at least 15 different porn channels.
Friday – The fact that it's leap day and my second babysitting job *ever*—two 2-year old twins. I am afraid, very afraid!
1.25.2008
1.14.2008
Seven Random Things
I’m it--tagged by Tenacious D. I don't consider myslef a meme snob, but it’s been a while since I’ve done one because memes usually make my brain hurt. This one gave me one hell of a headache. I mean, really, what don’t you know about me?
7. When we left Raleigh, I didn’t think I was ever going to get over the loss of my true love, Keurig. A couple months in Germany and I’ve discovered that time does heal all wounds. My relationship was just a crush. Instead, I have fallen in love with a younger, Italian model. He makes waking up in the mornings oh so worth it!
6. Max and I allow our pets, Charlie and Rascal, to sleep in bed with us. It’s odd. Here we have a spacious house, and my little family cuddles all together into one tiny room at night. Especially now that we are in Germany, this has become a ritual. We go to bed, Charlie follows right behind us, and two minutes later Rascal is crying at the door. Fortunately, everyone has his or her own side. Max sleeps on the right; I take the left. Charlie sleeps at the foot of the bed; Rascal snuggles us toward the pillows.
5. My family boasts many artists. Both sisters, a cousin, my niece and my mother all paint beautifully. My brother plays drums and sings. I can’t do anything artistic. In fact, I failed scissors on my kindergarten report card. The teacher said I had bad dexterity.
4. I’m not a picky eater, but I do despise the following: mayonnaise, bleu cheese, ranch dressing, sausage, and ham.
3. Bruce Springsteen once told my mother I was a cute baby. Our parents were friends, and he was just a teenager. My mother’s response? “Bruce, what do you know about babies?” But, what does this say about my mother? Wasn't I a cute baby?
2. Talk about a small world! I went to a Mexican restaurant in Athens, Greece, where Max had worked as a waiter. Weird, huh?
1. I once played Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Donatello, in a weekend television promotion at a mall. Mother was so proud.
This is where things get tricky and I am suppose to tag folks. But I can’t choose between you all! So if you are reading these words and would like to play along, consider yourself tagged.
7. When we left Raleigh, I didn’t think I was ever going to get over the loss of my true love, Keurig. A couple months in Germany and I’ve discovered that time does heal all wounds. My relationship was just a crush. Instead, I have fallen in love with a younger, Italian model. He makes waking up in the mornings oh so worth it!
6. Max and I allow our pets, Charlie and Rascal, to sleep in bed with us. It’s odd. Here we have a spacious house, and my little family cuddles all together into one tiny room at night. Especially now that we are in Germany, this has become a ritual. We go to bed, Charlie follows right behind us, and two minutes later Rascal is crying at the door. Fortunately, everyone has his or her own side. Max sleeps on the right; I take the left. Charlie sleeps at the foot of the bed; Rascal snuggles us toward the pillows.
5. My family boasts many artists. Both sisters, a cousin, my niece and my mother all paint beautifully. My brother plays drums and sings. I can’t do anything artistic. In fact, I failed scissors on my kindergarten report card. The teacher said I had bad dexterity.
4. I’m not a picky eater, but I do despise the following: mayonnaise, bleu cheese, ranch dressing, sausage, and ham.
3. Bruce Springsteen once told my mother I was a cute baby. Our parents were friends, and he was just a teenager. My mother’s response? “Bruce, what do you know about babies?” But, what does this say about my mother? Wasn't I a cute baby?
2. Talk about a small world! I went to a Mexican restaurant in Athens, Greece, where Max had worked as a waiter. Weird, huh?
1. I once played Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Donatello, in a weekend television promotion at a mall. Mother was so proud.
This is where things get tricky and I am suppose to tag folks. But I can’t choose between you all! So if you are reading these words and would like to play along, consider yourself tagged.
11.20.2007
Updates
I don't have time for a proper post, but I wanted to give you a quick update on what's going on.
* Max returned on Friday and life has been much easier. Of course, it doesn't hurt that he brought me a necklace from Tiffany's as a token of his appreciation for all my efforts. Smart man!
* The neigborhood developer came personally to see my house yesterday and I *think* he just might buy it. I should know one way or anther right after the holidays.
* Max and I are living with Jules for our last 10 days and having a wonderful time of it. Given the fact that my $900 sheets are on a boat to Germany, Jules did what she could to make her home feel like mine and went out and bought satin sheets for our guest bed. What a friend!!
* I'm late. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I think it's the stress of the move, but Max is going to bring home one of those pee-on-a-stick tests. We shall see.
Stay tuned.
* Max returned on Friday and life has been much easier. Of course, it doesn't hurt that he brought me a necklace from Tiffany's as a token of his appreciation for all my efforts. Smart man!
* The neigborhood developer came personally to see my house yesterday and I *think* he just might buy it. I should know one way or anther right after the holidays.
* Max and I are living with Jules for our last 10 days and having a wonderful time of it. Given the fact that my $900 sheets are on a boat to Germany, Jules did what she could to make her home feel like mine and went out and bought satin sheets for our guest bed. What a friend!!
* I'm late. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I think it's the stress of the move, but Max is going to bring home one of those pee-on-a-stick tests. We shall see.
Stay tuned.
10.10.2007
What a difference a day makes
Today I ate a tossed salad and grilled steak.
As hard as I try not to simply recap the daily on-goings in my life, I can’t avoid a simple summary these days. My life is just too hectic to take the time I need to reflect on my life and relationships in any meaningful way. And without reflection, I can’t even begin to write a coherent paragraph. For this, I apologize.
But I do have some news to report. My home was shown for the first time since early September and the feedback I received was positive—something along the lines of “the client LOVED it, but thinks he needs one more bedroom. You have a beautiful home and I think it will sell very quickly.” No, it wasn’t a sale. But least I wasn’t told the home is priced too high, the paint job is gaudy, or otherwise defective. The other bit of good news regarding the sale—a woman I showed the home to weeks ago called to tell me she was seriously interested in buying it, but had to make sure another property closed three weeks from now. Again, the call was not a signed contract, but it taught me not to become too anxious. Sometimes things can happen very quickly. Any day can bring a change.
Speaking of the difference a day can make, I can share even more exciting news. After fourteen years of living and working in the United States, my husband has been granted permission to become a citizen. He will be sworn in before month's end. What a huge relief to us both!
As hard as I try not to simply recap the daily on-goings in my life, I can’t avoid a simple summary these days. My life is just too hectic to take the time I need to reflect on my life and relationships in any meaningful way. And without reflection, I can’t even begin to write a coherent paragraph. For this, I apologize.
But I do have some news to report. My home was shown for the first time since early September and the feedback I received was positive—something along the lines of “the client LOVED it, but thinks he needs one more bedroom. You have a beautiful home and I think it will sell very quickly.” No, it wasn’t a sale. But least I wasn’t told the home is priced too high, the paint job is gaudy, or otherwise defective. The other bit of good news regarding the sale—a woman I showed the home to weeks ago called to tell me she was seriously interested in buying it, but had to make sure another property closed three weeks from now. Again, the call was not a signed contract, but it taught me not to become too anxious. Sometimes things can happen very quickly. Any day can bring a change.
Speaking of the difference a day can make, I can share even more exciting news. After fourteen years of living and working in the United States, my husband has been granted permission to become a citizen. He will be sworn in before month's end. What a huge relief to us both!
10.05.2007
Happy Friday
Being in the delivery room with my dear friends, witnessing the birth of new life, proved to be an amazing experience. Just before 6pm last night, my new little “niece” arrived, fashionable late, but in spectacular form. She was 8 pounds 4 ounces, 20 inches long and absolutely perfect. Mom and baby are doing fine. I had hoped to drop by to visit them today, before I head out of town to see Marc Anthony and Jennifer Lopez in concert in Washington, DC. Unfortunately, I have developed a nasty head cold. It would be best not to spread my germs to the little one.
My sore throat and hectic schedule this week also prevent me from finishing today’s podcast. I even purchased a new, more professional microphone and pop filter to improve the sound quality of the recording. But not even new technology could improve my froggy voice today. Boo. I know it will be difficult to wait another week for the latest installment, but you’ll just have to be patient. ;-)
Happy Friday and good weekend to all of you.
My sore throat and hectic schedule this week also prevent me from finishing today’s podcast. I even purchased a new, more professional microphone and pop filter to improve the sound quality of the recording. But not even new technology could improve my froggy voice today. Boo. I know it will be difficult to wait another week for the latest installment, but you’ll just have to be patient. ;-)
Happy Friday and good weekend to all of you.
10.03.2007
Rubbish
I had to take a couple hours off from the office this morning because the man responsible for moving our furniture to Germany made a visit to “survey” the house.
Room by room and with clipboard close in hand, he toured our home, asking which of our worldly possessions would be shipped to Europe and which would go to purgatory (some nondescript storage unit in Washington DC). Max and I offered our best guesses as to designation. After all, we haven’t found an apartment yet, so it’s hard to say with any certainty whether my white tiger print chair with rustic chenille throw will make the final cut or not. It’s just too close to call.
After the mover’s visit, however, I couldn’t help buty feel my years spent gathering home décor had been diminished somehow. I tried not to take this personally. Still, piece-by-piece, the mover reduced my life’s collection to nothing more than a detailed inventory spreadsheet. It’s hard to describe how this felt. I can only liken the experience to divorce—similar to how a simple signature is supposed to erase (legally) years of pain, sweat, and tears.
Odd. Very odd.
I’m not sure if you can tell from my posts, but my stress level is pretty intense these days. If it could be likened to the National Threat Advisory, my level would be in the red zone. (And, like every other American citizen who hears about this ridiculous warning , I haven’t a clue as to what I can do to reduce the threat.)
Enough already!!
In other news…
*My BFF hasn’t delivered her first child yet, but we’re expecting baby girl any day now. I’m still planning to be in the delivery room. Wow!!!
*If all goes well, Max and I will travel to Washington DC on Friday to catch the Marc Anthony/Jennifer Lopez concert. I’m not a J-Lo fan, but I love her husband’s salsa music. In fact, we have front-row seats (at $150 a piece) for this concert. What can I say—it was a going away present to myself.
* Finally, I’d like to get your thoughts on the silliest song in music history. Here are my choices:
“Girl, You’ll be a Woman” by Neal Diamond
“MacArther Park” by Donna Summer
“Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats
Who would you choose?
Room by room and with clipboard close in hand, he toured our home, asking which of our worldly possessions would be shipped to Europe and which would go to purgatory (some nondescript storage unit in Washington DC). Max and I offered our best guesses as to designation. After all, we haven’t found an apartment yet, so it’s hard to say with any certainty whether my white tiger print chair with rustic chenille throw will make the final cut or not. It’s just too close to call.
After the mover’s visit, however, I couldn’t help buty feel my years spent gathering home décor had been diminished somehow. I tried not to take this personally. Still, piece-by-piece, the mover reduced my life’s collection to nothing more than a detailed inventory spreadsheet. It’s hard to describe how this felt. I can only liken the experience to divorce—similar to how a simple signature is supposed to erase (legally) years of pain, sweat, and tears.
Odd. Very odd.
I’m not sure if you can tell from my posts, but my stress level is pretty intense these days. If it could be likened to the National Threat Advisory, my level would be in the red zone. (And, like every other American citizen who hears about this ridiculous warning , I haven’t a clue as to what I can do to reduce the threat.)
Enough already!!
In other news…
*My BFF hasn’t delivered her first child yet, but we’re expecting baby girl any day now. I’m still planning to be in the delivery room. Wow!!!
*If all goes well, Max and I will travel to Washington DC on Friday to catch the Marc Anthony/Jennifer Lopez concert. I’m not a J-Lo fan, but I love her husband’s salsa music. In fact, we have front-row seats (at $150 a piece) for this concert. What can I say—it was a going away present to myself.
* Finally, I’d like to get your thoughts on the silliest song in music history. Here are my choices:
“Girl, You’ll be a Woman” by Neal Diamond
“MacArther Park” by Donna Summer
“Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats
Who would you choose?
10.01.2007
Suggestions, please.
I’m not a morning person. It takes every fiber of my being to wake up, get going, make sure the shoes and socks match, and arrive at the office within a reasonable hour. Add to this list the task of having to clean my house every morning while it’s on the market, and you have total and complete chaos.After marrying Max, I had another important, albeit simple, item to add to my morning routine—remembering to wear my wedding and engagement rings. And to be honest, in the blur that is my mornings, I forget about 30 percent of the time.
It’s bad, I know.
Fortunately, Max doesn’t take my absent-mindedness personally. He knows it’s just an oversight, but I feel terrible just the same. So as not to forget (or rather, not to have to remember) I started wearing my rings around the clock until a friend told me her jeweler had discouraged the practice (something to do with wear and tear on the prongs and the risk of losing diamonds). Then, I tried leaving the set out on the dresser so I would see them, but my cat Rascal started using the rings like air-hockey pucks. Now I need Plan C.
I have to believe some of you out there have experienced morning forgetfulness. Any suggestions for me?
9.11.2007
Please give us your thoughts!
Jules slept over last night. She and her latest bo broke up, and we honored the occasion with a bottle of vino and a little chit chat.
In light of her man troubles and my recent sting from Max’s sister, we had a lot of material to dissect. If Jules and I are so completely benign as people, why do these sorts of things happen? Why did her ex behave like he did? How could Max’s sister misinterpret my words so badly?
“Sometimes after a breakup, I wish I could go back and get feedback from the guy,” Jules said.
“You mean like a comment card?“ I asked incredulously.
“Why not? I usually feel completely in the dark about how I’ve come across or what went wrong. It would be a whole lot easier to learn from the relationship, if there were some actual data to study.”
I started thinking about Jules idea, which reminded me of a dating suggestion box that could capture one person’s relationship history. But then, I decided that the feedback didn’t have to be limited to ex-boyfriend. Family, friends, co-workers, could all provide answers to specific survey questions.
But what sort of format would the comment card take? I’m not a fan of fill-in-the-blank, preferring a ranking system instead. So, if I wanted to know how people judge my character the questionnaire might take this format:
On a scale of 1 to 5, with 1 being strongly disagree and 5 being strongly agree, please answer the following.
So, now that I have the format, all I need are some questions.
If you had the opportunity to ask people's feedback on you, what would you want to know? What questions might you ask?
In light of her man troubles and my recent sting from Max’s sister, we had a lot of material to dissect. If Jules and I are so completely benign as people, why do these sorts of things happen? Why did her ex behave like he did? How could Max’s sister misinterpret my words so badly?
“Sometimes after a breakup, I wish I could go back and get feedback from the guy,” Jules said.
“You mean like a comment card?“ I asked incredulously.
“Why not? I usually feel completely in the dark about how I’ve come across or what went wrong. It would be a whole lot easier to learn from the relationship, if there were some actual data to study.”
I started thinking about Jules idea, which reminded me of a dating suggestion box that could capture one person’s relationship history. But then, I decided that the feedback didn’t have to be limited to ex-boyfriend. Family, friends, co-workers, could all provide answers to specific survey questions.
But what sort of format would the comment card take? I’m not a fan of fill-in-the-blank, preferring a ranking system instead. So, if I wanted to know how people judge my character the questionnaire might take this format:
On a scale of 1 to 5, with 1 being strongly disagree and 5 being strongly agree, please answer the following.
So, now that I have the format, all I need are some questions.
If you had the opportunity to ask people's feedback on you, what would you want to know? What questions might you ask?
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