Tag, I'm it!

I've been tagged by the lovely Ms. Corinna.
So, just in case you wanted to know my holiday peccadilloes...

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?
This is a hard, one, but I'll have to go with the Chocolate.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
This Santa wraps, badly. My gifts always look like manic gerbil tried to wrap them.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
No house lights, and if we had a tree there would be colored lights.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?
Nope.

5. When do you put your decorations up?
15 minutes before company arrives

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?
My mom's creamed corn pudding. It is so sweet it is almost dessert, yet counts as a vegetable. Mmmm.

7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child?
My Grammie and Poppy would have us write letters to Santa, then they'd make a big fire in the fireplace. We'd put the letters in the fireplace and run out to watch the embers blowing out of the chimney, carrying our wishes to Santa. Sounds kind of strange, I know but when I was little it was as close to magic as I've ever seen.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
My mom told me when I was about 5.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
We always opened the gifts from out of town friends and family after midnight Mass.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
We haven't had a tree for years--but this year we bought a tree stand, so next year we are LOCK for a tree. I just know it.

11. Snow! Love it or Dread it?
I love snow. Makes being cold seem worth it.

12. Can you ice skate?
Are you kidding? You've met me, right? The girl who trips over dust? No--ice skating is not one of my Many Talents.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
1,001 Electronics Kit

14. What's the most important thing about the Holidays for you?
Reflecting on the year gone by, and the people who made it special.

15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert?
Punkin Pie. With Cool Whip.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?
I don't have too many--Rob and I have a solstice traditional ritual of letting go and bringing in which actually requires the use of cookies, so I'd have to say that is my favorite.

17. What tops your tree?
Likely a star, if I ever manage to get my crap together enough to purchase a tree. We do have TONS of LED lights though!

18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?
I'm rather uncomfortable with receiving gifts, but I really like to give them. If I were rich, I'd be like Oprah and constantly shower everyone I know with gifts. So keep praying for me to win the lottery!

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song?
O Come, O Come Emmanuel

A close second though, is Father Christmas from Warrant (long after the lovely Jani Lane left the band)
Here is a sample of the thought provoking chorus:
Father Christmas, give us some money
Don't mess around with those silly toys
Beat you up if you don't hand it over
We want your bread so don't make us annoyed
Give all the toys to the little rich boys
It is available on iTunes. I'm just saying...

(In case you care, my LEAST favorite Christmas Song? Rockin around the Christmas Tree. *shudder*)

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?
Love 'em!

The Ghost of Christmas Fake

We had Christmas this weekend with my family. Actually, Fake Christmas as my sister repeatedly reminded me, because Real Christmas is next week. *sigh*

We have to visit both families for major holidays--and they live states apart. Neither side is very charitable about visits to the other, and frankly I've had it up to here with the whole thing. We are going to see Rob's family over Saturday and Sunday and staying at our own home on Monday. I want to spend Christmas in a happy comfortable place alone with my husband. Is that so wrong?

Yeesh. We did have a nice visit however, which is an improvement over most Christmases past. This is the first big holiday since my father passed away, and I knew it would be difficult for my mom. I wasn't prepared for how difficult it has been for me. I never had a great relationship with my father--but the holidays seem to bring out the sentimental side of all of us, and we spend a lot of time talking about early Christmases, the ones before our family went completely down the crapper. It was somewhat sad, but somewhat nice, and I've had enough of the trip down memory lane for a while.

The high point of the weekend was going through our old record albums. My favorite oldie but moldy? Children for Dora Hall. Ms. Dora is considered the queen of vanity variety entertainment. Her husband founded the Solo Cup Company and apparently indulged Dora's dreams of becoming a star. From this wonderful album our faves included: Mr. Boogie Woogie, Tony the Pony, and the infamous Dr. Sniffle Swiper. Good stuff.

Next in line? The Disneyland "Addition and Subtraction" album with my mom's Most Hated Song--Ten Little cannibals. And for your enjoyment--here are the lyrics (the song itself repeated twice, and we played it at least 115 times daily) completely from memory. Yes, I remember the lyrics to the Ten Little Cannibals song, just don't ask my what my zip code is.

Once upon a time there were 10 little cannibals swinging on a vine
One tried to pet a big wildcat and then there were nine
One of the nine drank turpentine
Then there were eight
Then one more fell dead on the floor and seven was their fate.
One went in politics, then there were only six
One took a dive now five we see
One went to Singapore then there were only four
One turned green, and then there were three
One fell into some glue, then there were only two
They drank from a loving cup.
One became a skeleton, then there was only one and he...ate himself...all.....up!

Flashes...

And not hot ones, either.

I know I'm supposed to be giving up my gossip blogs, but I can't help myself--just a little peek now at then.

In so peeking, I got way more of any eyeful than I bargained for. As you may know, Ms. Britney Spears has been making a new career out of flashing her panty-less unmentionables to any and everyone. So now every one knows that what she has is very much the same as what we all have. Taa Daa!

But I digress. The real joy I've gotten out of this Series of Unfortunate Events is learning all the ways that people have of referring to the Thing that Britney is flashing.

Here are my faves:

• private parts
• nether regions
• her goods
• yoohoo
• her no-no special place
• her most intimate parts
• vajay
• coochie
• bagina
• vajayjay

I once would have said that we have more slang terms for male naughty bits than female, but Britney is on a one woman crusade to prove me wrong. To prove me wrong with her no-no special place...

Take some Bronchitis, add a wee bit of pneumonia and...

And you get Ameilabee lo, these last three weeks. What started out as a slight sore throat descended into bronchitis and ultimately, the merest hint of walking pneumonia. Hooray!
I'm mostly better now--still a remnant of the horrible whoop cough I had for weeks, but I'm no longer blowing my nose every waking moment. I think the receptionist was starting to think an errant flock of geese were living in our ladies room, what with all the honking and whooping I was doing. Every day my voice sounds more and more like me, and less and less like Brenda Vaccaro, which is a good thing.
Don't really have more to say about the disease except, Mucinex, Good Stuff.

Days of Wine and Turkey...
Or portabello mushrooms, homemade macaroni & cheese, zucchini, mashed potatoes and roasted root veggies, as the case may be.

I hope that everyone had a lovely and happy time on Thanksgiving, we certainly did.
Spent the day with our fab friends Sooz and Kev, as well as their adorable wee ones. Additionally, we got to meet some cool new people who I hope will become our fast friends--especially as one of them is Very Into Science Fiction in much the same way that Mr. Ameliabee is Very Into Science Fiction. A rare find indeed.

I think various and sundry members of my family are somewhat angry that we didn't come to visit, but with the aforementioned case of bronchitis in full swing there was No Way I could be in a house full of smokers. And bring both of my lungs home internally, at any rate. Also, we sisters are not all getting along at the moment so why push it? I'm thankful that I didn't have to get in a big ugly passive-aggressive fight with a sibling over the holiday. That's what I'm thankful for.

A Promise and Vow
From yours truly. I really need to get back on the blogging train, not only because I'll grasp at any little bit of fame I'm afforded, but because it helps my other, *ahem* serious writing too.

So, I have decided that I'm giving up my gossip blogs. So sad that I was addicted to them in the first place, but they took up the bulk of my internet time--which really should be my writing time. So, I bid a fond farewell to the likes of TheSuperficial and ASocialitesLife, because honestly, I just don't need to know that much about Lindsay Lohan. It is not getting my book published, that's for sure.

The promise? I'll be posting at least 4 times a week. Just typing that I realize that any normal person would have said every day, but hey--we're managing expectations here at Ameliabee.
And...I'll post some little chunks of my Big Project for you to peruse and hate, or love or be ambivalent about. Hooray? And I promise a near future return of the much-requested 911 report.

Tonight, on the Update...

So, here at long last is the Great Big Giant Update on what has been happening in the life of one Ms. Ameliabee.

Reunited, and it feels so good!

My 20-year high school reunion was a couple of weeks ago, and a good time was had by all--and if not by all, by me at least. We had the party with the two other county high schools, and so I got to reunite with some folks I haven't seen since 7th or 8th grade. We've had quite a range of life experiences, we 20 year alums, but most of us were relatively happy and healthy. What surprised me the most were the people who still remembered slights, fights and still held grudges all these years later. Just goes to show how jagged and deep the wounds of high school can be. My take on it? (Keep in mind that I did not have a particularly happy and joyous high school life. In fact, I had a rather sad, lonely and awkward one.) We were kids then, all of us. We never understood the consequences, the repercussions, the pain we could and did cause. There is no redemption in 20-year-old blame, no triumph in seeing someone in pain and failing. I want nothing more than that everyone could have a peaceful shelter in their lives, no matter how we got along in high school.
But off my soapbox now. If you want to see Way Too Many pictures of Ameliabee (and what is possibly the Best T-Shirt Ever) at the reunion, click on the big photo above.

The New Job
I've been working at my new job for some time now, and I still love it madly. It can be difficult, crazy and stressful, but this is a great company and there is a lot of potential for me to grow.

What I didn't count on was--a deer coming to visit our office, in fact visit MY office. We have a beautiful new office building in a newer office-park area. The building is designed to fit in with the partially wooded landscape, and with the many windows we get to see lots of flora and fauna. Yesterday however, the fauna came to see us. During a meeting (which thank you sweet baby Jesus I was not attending) a 4-point buck jumped through the conference room window. Said conference room is directly across from my desk, and the buck proceeded to jump around the room for a few minutes before finally finding its way out the window. The deer was injured in all this, and the conference room was awash in blood, broken glass, drywall and crushed furniture. Everyone in the conference room got out safely, thank goodness. As far away as possible, of course. Hey-- I lived in Wisconsin long enough to know that I want no part of a pissed off, panicked buck during mating season. No Way.

There is more to tell, I'm sure. But I'm getting sleepy, and incoherent. More sooner than later...

Is that a Zombie?

No, it is just me. Recalcitrant Ameliabee.

Dear, faithful readers...I really am Alive and Well. I haven't been blogging because:

1) I am Lazy.

2) I have been getting some Actual Writing accomplished. Not just my usual whining here and in my journal, but real, possibly salable writing.

3) I've finally gotten a handle on the insomnia somewhat, but it involves my going to bed very, very early and getting up very, very early. But hey, I'm actually on a sort-of regular sleep cycle for the first time in my adult life!

4) see #1 again. I really am That Lazy.

So, I promise. I truly P-R-O-M-I-S-E to update you on all the goings on very soon. Like tomorrow.

Oh Hail....

And not to the Chief this time.

Early this evening we had a ferocious storm--complete with the worst hailstorm I have ever witnessed.

The news said that a storm was coming, and that there was golf-ball sized hail, so I was on the porch watching the clouds blowing overhead. The wind picked up dramatically and then--whiz! Out of our backyard (or so it seemed) came huge chunks of ice. They were really moving fast, and smashing off the side of the house (and our big picture window, which I thought would smash for sure.) This kept up for a good 10 minutes--the hailstones were at least the size of golf balls, some were as large as oranges.

We headed into the kitchen, the only room without a window that faced the hail. Luckily, we didn't lose a window, in the house or the car, but poor Pearl the Mighty Honda took some lumps.

Here is our yard about halfway through the storm. It was raining too hard to get a good shot once the hail stopped, sadly. There are a few more in my Flickr album

I'm not someone who is afraid of storms, in fact I like them. Usually you can find me sitting on the porch, despite all warnings to the contrary, watching the clouds and rain.

This was different. I was truly frightened. The wind was tremendous, and the hail was coming down as hard as if pitched by a Little Leaguer. The lightning strikes were nearly continuous, and alarmingly close. I know several funnel clouds were sighted in town, but I don't believe any touched down. A pretty fierce storm this late in the season. Of course, I blame it all on the hot air belched out by the attack campaign ads.

Terror in the aisles--part the Third

I really have to stop taking my camera into grocery stores. I'm going to get thrown out if I'm not careful.

There is a new Ginormous Kroger near our house. It is not only a grocery store, but it sells furniture, towels, beds and other strange things. More grocery store than a Target, nicer than a WalMart, it is stuck in a strange in-between land, unsure of what it wants to be when it grows up. I hope they have good guidance counselors for young grocery stores.

Anyway. It is very Big and very nice Kroger with all new visual merchandising. Most of it is good--except in the Health and Beauty aisles.

First we have the Legs That Go All The Way...from the Hosiery aisle.
Is is just me, or is this WAY too much leg? I'm just glad she has her legs crossed, or we'd be having a Sharon Stone moment. This is on the hosiery aisle and it is indeed showing a Rather Lot of hosiery, but I just think it is too much.

Once I had recovered from the shock of the Legs, Mr. Ameliabee pointed me toward the Adult Incontinence aisle and this lovely image choice.

Wow. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed that someone, somewhere would think this a good photo for the Adult Incontinence end cap.

I've never seen a woman so, ummm fulfilled by peeing in her pants.

I understand what they were going for here, more lifestyle and artistic shots. The other cosmetics end cap has a Really Big Eye with mascara wand, and the hair care aisle has a lovely artistic shot of hair. This is a marketing strategy that makes sense--people are drawn to the big photos, the products showcase themselves, and you don't risk pissing off a vendor by not featuring them. All sound ideas.

Except for the near crotch shot, and the woman gleefully wetting herself.

On another grocery shopping note, I saw a man stealing at the store today. I was picking out potatoes, and the man across from me was looking at bulk candy bars. (they have an awesome selection of the little Hershey Miniatures in bulk, so you can get one--ha, ha--or one hundred) Actually he wasn't so much looking, as he was eating them. At least 5 candy bars. I just stared at him with my mouth open. He stared back at me, and wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed that I caught him stealing.

When I worked at a health food store, we jokingly called the bulk section "The Snack Bar" because so many people would just eat things out of the bins. I often said we should have scales at the door, and weigh people going in and out, just to make sure they actually paid for their food. My co-worker Gabe wanted to rig a siren that we could activate from the counter.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not against eating in grocery stores, I do it all the time. I'll open a box of cookies from my cart, a bag of pretzels, or during a recent sudden allergy attack, a package of toilet paper to blow my nose. What is the difference? These things are sold by unit--so I'll get charged for the box, bag, whatever at the checkout. Bulk and most produce is sold by weight--so there was no way for Mr. Goodbar to pay for the candy he'd eaten, even if he had saved the wrappers and not put them back into the bulk bin. So he wasn't just a thief, he was a Jerk too.

But, I wonder. How do most people feel about this? Having worked so very long in retail, I am sensitive to this sort of "shrink." Grocery stores (even the big ones, like Kroger) have extremely tight margins, and any theft really cuts into that. Plus it is just the principle of the thing--you can't pay for bulk food after you've eaten it.

So let me know--am I being an uptight prude?* And what, if anything, should I have done? For the record, after staring intently at him for a number of seconds, I gave an *aHem* so he would know I was watching. Didn't faze him.

*about stealing. We all know that in general, the answer is Yes. With a bullet.

President Bush is trying to f-up my life...

He truly is. This is odd, as I bear the President no especial ill will. I just wish he would learn to chew with his mouth closed at State Functions and not act like he is sitting at the Jock Table in the high school cafeteria. It is embarrassing for all of us. But I digress…

Today, the president came to Columbus for a social call. A fundraiser for Congresswoman Deborah Pryce at the estate of the one, the only Les Wexner.

Don’t know Mr. Wexner (or Les, as we hip Columbus-ites call him)? If you’ve set foot in a mall sometime in the past 20 years, you do. Ever shopped at Express, The Limited, Victoria’s Secret, Abercrombie and Fitch, White Barn Candle Co, Bath and Body Works, Lane Bryant, or Lerner New York? Then you’ve met Mr. Wexner. He is indeed the force behind this retail empire, and as you might guess, a wealthy man. The kind of man who the President would come to visit.

And today, he did. He touched down at Port Columbus International around 5:00, and then headed for New Albany, the teeny-tiny farming community that was basically purchased by Mr. Wexner’s land development company about 10 years ago, and turned into a veddy veddy upscale community. Don’t get me wrong, they have done a wonderful job—the town is simply lovely, the houses don’t look as funeral home-like as many new homes do, and there is an actual downtown with stores, grocery, etc. I don’t know how all of the old-timers in New Albany feel about it, but it seems like a nice place. New Albany is also home to my job—in a beautiful building, just outside of town. It is right off the highway, which is usually super-convenient for me. I’m going the opposite way of most of the traffic during rush hour and can make it door to door in about 35 minutes most days.

I say most days, because the President f-ed it up for me today. I should say Deborah Pryce f-ed it up, because as much as I don’t really hate the President, I really do hate Deborah Pryce.

As I was saying, he came to town for a Pryce fundraiser at Chateau Wexner. Here is some info I didn’t know—when the President is traveling from say, the airport to say, Les Wexner’s estate, he is the only car on the road. Really. They closed down all the Very Major highways he was to use. No cars going in either direction, no cars driving on the bridges above him or on roads beneath him. Just lots of people backed up on exit ramps, and city streets, secretly fuming and (I hope) plotting just how they aren’t going to vote for Deborah Pryce.

As I mentioned, my office is right off the highway, about 2 miles from the Estate of Les. As the highway and the roads over it, as well as any road going near the estate were closed, and I have no other decent route home, I was stuck in the parking lot for well over an hour. And then the traffic. Sweet Baby Jesus Up in Heaven…the traffic. Worse that an OSU football game. Not counting the time in the parking lot, it took me over an hour to get home. An hour.

When I finally got on the road, slowly inching home I though about the President in his limo. I wonder what it is like as your car glides through the strangely empty rush hour. Buildings go by at a blur; a house, a church, an empty factory, an auto parts store. Does he wish that he could trade it in for just a day, trade it all in an live in one of these houses, work at the auto parts store, and not have the fate of the country resting in his hands like an empty eggshell?

1-2-3-4-5-6-7...

Eight?

Just another confirmation that I am right to drop Cingular as my wireless plan.
The customer service phone number listed on their website is:
1-866-CINGULAR

That is one number too many.
You'd think a phone company would know better...

(I know, I know, it works if you call it that way--but it is the principle of the thing here, people)

Translate this....

This is the Best Translation Website Ever!
I can finally fit in with the cool kids! Maybe I'll even send a text message to someone, once I figure out how to do it...
Thanks for the tip, Sooz!

Or, as the Kewl Kidz would type:
THES SI TEH BST TRANSLATION WEBSIET EVERI!!1111!!! WTF LOL CAN FINALY FIT IN WIT DA COL KIDS!!!1!! WTF MAYB IL 3VEN SEND A TEXT M3SAEG 2 SOMEONE ONCE I FIGURA OUT HOW 2 DO THX!1!!!!1!1!!!111 OMG LOL FOR TEH TIP SOZ!!1111!! WTF LOL

Check it out: English-to-12-year-old-AOLer Translator

Tagged--I'm it!

I've been tagged by The Laundress with the Seven Songs Meme:
"seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now". Just supposed to list 'em, don't need to link to them."

So I give you the Seven Songs of Ameliabee, Right Now.

Everything's Different Now--The Innocence Mission
A husband/wife group with simple, but gorgeous songs about faith and becoming.

So Like Candy--Elvis Costello
Elvis Costello writes the best post breakup songs, and this is one of them.

All Kinds of Time--Fountains of Wayne
I have Much Love for the Fountain fellas--in particular for this song. It manages to capture one of those brief moments when you are completely in the right here and right now. All while talking about a football game.

A Praise Chorus--Jimmy Eat World
I've been on a kick of doing "Positive Self-Talk" (I know, I read too many self-help books...) and this song is a constant companion for that reason. Plus, it rocks.

This Monkey Gone to Heaven--the Pixies
Just saw them on Austin City Limits, and they still got it. In fact, they got more of it than just about anybody else.

American Cancer--The Evil Queens
You probably don't know the Evil Queens yet, but you will. Check em out on iTunes. That's some great Rawk-n-Roll.

When You Close Your Eyes--Night Ranger
Hey, my reunion is coming up, and I'm feeling nostalgic...or I'm still way into the 80's, take your pick.

Avast! Ye Scurvy Dogs!

In honor of two things:

1. International Talk Like a Pirate Day, which was yesterday (tip o' the barnacle to E. for reminding me!)
2. My usual laziness in getting anything posted

Today is Crazy Association Day here on Ameliabee! So we'll start with pirates and end up in a Columbus cemetery. (I was going to link to stuff, but again, lazy.)

Ahoy! A nautical call used to attract attention from another ship, and favorite lingo of modern-day pirate talkers.

Hoy! Hoy! Modified version of Ahoy, proposed Alexander Graham Bell for use as a greeting when using his new telephone device. We collectively settled on "hello" instead. Except my husband and Mr. Burns, who both answer the telephone this way. (the Proper Way as Rob would point out)

Grover Cleveland 22nd and 24th President of the United States, and Ameliabee's favorite president. While in the White House, Cleveland personally answered the White House telephone. One assumes with, "Hoy! Hoy! White House, Grover Cleveland speaking.."

Frances Folsom Cleveland, the woman who married Grover Cleveland in the White House. The Clevelands are the only presidential couple to marry in the White House.

Super Presidential wedding was what one might call the union of Julie Nixon (daughter of then-president Richard Nixon) and David Eisenhower (grandson of Dwight Eisenhower)

Richard Nixon first served in the Executive Branch as Vice President to Eisenhower, although he was not elected upon Eisenhower's retirement from office.

George H.W. Bush is only the second vice-president to have been elected immediately following the term of the president he served. (the other is Martin Van Buren, who served under Andrew Jackson)

Samuel Prescott Bush, grandfather of George H.W. Bush was a noted industrialist and is buried right here in Columbus, OH.

Bush is buried in Greenlawn Cemetery which is one of the loveliest places I've visited in quite a while. You can peep more photos from the trip in my Flickr album.

Ahoy!

Rap Cat

You heard me, Rap Cat.

I post this for the benefit of those in the Upper Midwest who don't have Rally's or Checker's restaraunts.

Enjoy the awesomeness that is....Rap Cat.

As Time Goes By

20 years ago this summer, I graduated high school. 20 years ago. Seems impossible, but it is indeed true. I'm getting ready for my reunion, and I'm really not sure how I feel about the whole thing.

Okay, that's a lie. Here is how I feel about it--anxious. This is no surprise, as I feel anxious about going to the mall, calling to schedule appointments, and going to the library.

So, as I head into this reunion, I'm anxious. I wasn't a popular kid; my big activities in school were band (at which I was not terribly good) and Quiz Team (at which I was very good). I didn't have many friends, and was teased pretty badly by some of the other kids. I was fat (not really, but I was convinced that I was), insecure, unhappy, and lonely, living mostly in elaborate day-dream sequences that involved various members of Duran Duran and Rick Springfield coming to rescue me.

Thinking about the reunion is sort of like being rolfed by every bad memory I can conjure up--attending my first dance and having not one person talk to me, overhearing my name being used as a punchline for a joke among some boys, and some even more embarrassing things I can't bring myself to mention. I wish I could reach back in time to the girl I was, and hold her and tell her all the things she needs to hear. You are okay just as you are, there is a wonderful man who will love you even if you aren't perfect, you can't fix everything for everyone, you don't have to pretend to be happy all the time, and you are lovely--simply lovely. And I love you.

I've learned so much in 20 years. I have a wonderful life that isn't anything like the one I had planned--which involved again, various members of Duran Duran. I have a wonderful life that is what I want, on my terms, with the person I chose to be with, and who chooses (heaven knows why, sometimes) to be with me. But still inside is the gun-shy girl who worries that nobody at the reunion will like her because she is fat (for real this time), she isn't smart or important enough. I'm hoping she'll look out at the party and see how happy people are to see us, how she's the only one who cares about the other crap, and that, though fat, we look pretty danged good.

Dead Presidents

No, this isn't a post about Jay-Z.


It is about one of Ohio's own dead presidents. I love history and have been eagerly working on an urban history project about Columbus since we've returned, but I've made some time for an old hobby--presidential monuments. Ohio is a great place for this hobby, as 8 presidents were born here, and 4 are buried here. Which presidents?
James A. Garfield (buried in Cleveland)
Ulysses S. Grant (famously buried in Manhattan, although his parents are buried in Cincinnati)
Benjamin Harrison (buried in Indiana)
William Henry Harrison (buried in North Bend, OH)
Rutherford B. Hayes (buried in Fremont)
William McKinley (buried in Canton)
William Howard Taft (buried in Arlington National Cemetery)
Warren G. Harding (buried in Marion)

Oddly, of these 8 two were assassinated and two more died in office. Not such good statistics for the Buckeye state...


But on to the President of this Post--Warren Gamaliel Harding, our 29th president.
Many have considered him to be the worst president in history--but I reserve that honor for Andrew Jackson, by virtue of the Indian Removal act, among other things. That said, Harding was not a terrific president by any estimation. A handsome and well-connected newspaper man, Harding won the presidency with a well planned and publicized "front porch" campaign that included visits from stars such as Al Jolson and Mary Pickford.

Once in the White House, Harding left much of the policy work to his confidants and advisers--many of whom rapidly became embroiled in scandals such as the infamous Teapot Dome. Harding was responsible for several of his own scandals, most involving women other than his wife.

But Harding died in office before most of the scandals could come to light--which resulted in this terrific monument. Harding's monument is impressive Greek Temple of Georgia Marble. The inside is open (in a nod to the Harding's wish to be buried outside) and contains a lovely Japanese garden.

Also not to be missed is the spectacular Marion Cemetery. This is an old cemetery with some spectacular monuments and angels. No trip to the cemetery would be complete without a visit to the Haunted Merchant Ball. Erected in 1896, the two-ton granite ball rolls on its base at a rate of about 2 inches a year. Many theories are forwarded about this (most likely? Coriolis effect) but I say--Haunted! Here is a shot of the Merchant Ball with me worriedly watching some large birds circling us.

There are Tons more photos about both the Harding Monument and the Cemetery in my Flickr Album too!

Neighbors to the North

In the vein of things I like, which is as good a thing as any to write about, I would like to honor our neighbors to the north. No, not Canada. Some fellows from Ann Arbor, Michigan who are just about the most interesting and creative people I've run across.

Davy Rothbart and Jason Bitner are the creators and editors of Found Magazine. If you haven't had a chance to visit the website, please do so now. I will wait for you... See now, wasn't that cool? I highly recommend getting your hands on a copy of the magazine though, it is even more interesting than the website.

Both Rothbart and Bitner have recent "solo" projects that are every bit as good as Found.

Jason Bitner has recently published LaPorte, Indiana, a lovely, thoughtful glimpse into the heyday of a small Midwestern town. LaPorte is composed entirely of photographs--studio portrait proofs which span the 1950's and 60's.

It would have been all too easy for Bitner to publish a snarky, post-modern book that points out the lapses of fashion sense, hickishness, and just basically mocks the folks of LaPorte for our amusement.

But what Bitner has done is present these photos as little trinkets, little shards of other people's life without judgement, or comment. These little bits of ephemera can help us see the humanity in the extras that wander through the movie of our life. LaPorte gives us glimpses at the beginnings, middles and sometimes ends of stories, from people frozen at a moment in time, a moment they wanted to memorialize.

As a lifelong Midwestern gal myself, I felt the tug of home while reading this book, and once again was captivated by the beauty and life that surrounds us here in the heartland. No less than John Mellencamp, whom I respect greatly has said about LaPorte: “These are real people. The grace and dignity one sees in their faces should be a source of hope for us all.” I second that emotion, and encourage you to take a look

Davy Rothbart has released a collection of short stories, The Lone Surfer of Montana, Kansas.

This isn't to say that you won't laugh out loud while reading this book, Rothbart does an admirable job balancing pathos with just enough humor to keep it bearable, but not enough to make light, so that when the whole thing comes crashing down you are stunned by the suddenness and inevitability of it.

A wonderful book by a writer with a sure, clear voice and a command of the tricky language of non-preachy salvation. You can easily read this book in an afternoon, but you'll be thinking about it for days to come.

So, although I fear this will get me run out of Columbus on a rail, I tip my hat to the boys from Ann Arbor, and look forward to hearing much more from both of them.

And here, to appease the Godz of Buckeye, is a picture of Brutus. Please don't set my car on fire, thank you.

Eeergh..

Still having trouble posting photos, which is sad because I have some great photos from our trip to see President Warren G Harding and the Haunted Tombstone of Marion, OH.

So, until I can get the pictures working, I leave you with this:
Nathan Sawaya: the art of the brick

I know we've all seen weird lego art before--the brick testament, etc.
This is Head and Shoulders Above that stuff. I'm talking Han Solo in carbonite.
I'm talking an amazingly lifelike representation of an Eileen Fisher dress.
I'm talking much, much more.
And all made out of legos.

Rock.

Things that make me smile

As most of you know, it has been a rough week or so in Ameliabeeland. But, rather than wallow in a bunch of negativity and snarkiness, I've decided to focus on things that make me happy. So, for your edification, here are a few things that I adore.

(These were all going to have fun photos, but for some reason Blogger really hates me right now, so you'll have to use your imagination kids.)

Nature's Gate Herbal Conditioner
This smells like Heaven, and leaves my hair feeling lovely.

Hoover Floor Mate Spin Scrub
I purchased this wonderful appliance on a recommendation from Lynn, and I can honestly say I love it!! It not only scrubs the floor with rotating brushes, it sucks up the water, so the floor is dry when you are finished. No waiting! Now is that cool or what? Approximately 97% of our floors are non-carpeted, and I can do the Entire House in about 25 minutes. Which is good, because if it involved anything resembling hard work, I would only mop them once a year. As it is, I do them just about every week. If it can make a decent housekeeper out of me, think of what it could do for a normal person!

Chuzzle Deluxe
I have never been much of a video game player--my reflexes aren't great, they were pretty violent and I always ended up stressed out. Time runs out, people are shooting at you, things are falling to crush you, I mean who needs it? I can get that kind of stress walking through campus after a football game. Enter Chuzzle, the stress free game. You don't kill anything, nothing shoots at you, and there No Time Limit. Besides, the Chuzzles are super cute! I'll warn you though, it is addicting.

OK Go
I just love this band. They play great power pop, they are fun, and great dancers. Be sure to check out the video for Here It Goes Again as well as their Table Tennis Program. Also, they are darned cute if way too young for me.

And last but not least...

YouTube
If you haven't visited yet, check it out. User-uploaded videos of, well, anything. People singing, skateboarding, eating sandwiches--you name it, YouTube has it, along with clips from your favorite shows (without cable, it is the only way I can get a Daily Show fix). Two of my faves: Mr Cat Loves to Dance, by my friend Sooz. Dang, that cat can dance! And We Built This City by some drunk guys in Chicago.
This my dears, is Exactly Why I love the internet.

Dangit

Why won't Blogger let me post any pictures?
What have I done to anger the Godz of Blog?

I hope to have my post posted soon, if I can actually get this to work.
Yeesh.

Be vewy, vewy, quiet....

I'm hunting jobs, still.

Yes, the job hunt continues apace. But much more fruitfully now that I decided to get professional help with my resume. Is there anything in the job hunt more daunting than trying to convince an employer that you are wonderful and that they simply must meet you? I honestly had no idea of where to begin. So I read some books, some websites, some message boards, and got even more discouraged and overwhelmed. Then I discovered Ladybug Design. They took my crappy, vague, barely one-page resume, had me fill out a questionnaire, did an extensive phone interview and produced a two-page masterpiece of me (and an excellent cover letter). Not a cheap service, by any means, but being unemployed isn't terribly cost-effective either.

It must be working though, as I've gotten more calls already this week than in the previous month...

I had an interview with a Center for Alternative Healing kind of place this week. They were looking for a receptionist/admin assistant/all around office person which sounded interesting. I have worked with Alternative Therapy folks in the past and I'm rather open-minded about these sorts of things. (Except for Reiki. That just cracks me up.)


I was asked only two questions during the interview--first "what is your sign?" Apparently, Aries was a Good Answer.
Second "Could you work with a Scorpio?"
I don't know, I'm a Days of Our Lives kind of gal.

For all my lack of talking, she liked my "energy" which I must give off by smiling and nodding politely, and wanted me to interview with the CEO. According to her, this interview would consist of the CEO staring at me for several minutes to feel my "elements." She apparently likes people who are mostly "water." Given how much I have to use the bathroom, I must be mostly water.

The real deal-breaker for me was the lack of health insurance (it is a really small company) and their attitude about those folks who need it. "Most people have way too much health insurance, that is a big problem in this country." I kid you not.
So...good energy aside, I won't be working with any Scorpios.

I do have an interview this afternoon with a law office...so wish me luck!

How the mighty have fallen

Geez, I knew the last Bond movie, Die Another Day wasn't a super hit, but I didn't know Mr. Brosnan had to change his name to get work...

Experience the Sofa

When we moved, we decided to get rid of our old sofa because:
A) It was really old
B) The cushions were torn
C) It smelled kinda funny
D) We didn't want to move anything more than we had to

I am a person who will almost always sit on the floor rather than on a piece of furniture. I'm klassy like that. I realize that most people are not like this, and that we've never really had adequate seating for visitors, so with this in mind we decided to procure The Sofa.

M. Ameliabee's late grandparents had sofa/loveseat/chair set in the Front Room in their house. Those of you from northern climes might not be familiar with the concept of a Front Room, but they are a common fixture in many homes where I grew up.

What is a Front Room? It is a formal living room, with an aggressively "nice" feel to it--it is as close to a furniture showroom as most homes get. Front rooms are located (naturally) in the front of the house, usually very near the front door. Bonus points if they are separate rooms off the front hallway, and not the room through which you enter the home. If the front entrance is in the Front Room, most traffic is diverted through a back or side door and the front door is used only for Front Room people.

This room is reserved for Company--and not just any Company. Your best friend or neighbor or kid's friends will be entertained in the kitchen or living room. My two best friends from high school had front rooms at their houses, and I never set foot in either one. Kids, regardless of age, are not allowed in Front Rooms. Clergy members, local bigwigs, teachers, people who need impressed with your above-white-trash worldliness and wealth are entertained here. Of course, these rooms are found only in the better class of homes or in homes which aspire to the better class.

We didn't have a Front Room, as my Mom's house is very old and has only one huge room downstairs, plus the add-on kitchen at the back. Instead, we had the Nice China which was hauled out for special occasions or when my Mom needed to impress someone. My most vivid memory of the Nice China was in my mid-twenties, being driven to my Mom's house by my boyfriend and his friend. This was the culmination of the worst time of my life, and I was in no shape to drive myself. I needed some time to pick up the pieces of what remained of my life and figure out where to go from there. Mostly though, I needed to feel comforted and safe--so Mom's house seemed pretty logical. But, I realized this wasn't going to work the minute we got there, because my Mom had out the good cups and saucers, teacups and glasses for my boyfriend and his friend. She was in all-out entertaining mode, impressing them with her wit and charm, looking daggers at the daughter who was resting her head on the table, crying as quietly as possible.
Okay, Wow. That got sad and self-indulgent there. Sorry about that.

Anyway. This is all to say that we inherited the Psychedelic Living Room Suite from Rob's grandparents. Mr. Ameliabee, as some of you know, has a fondness for Very Loud Colors. He inherited said fashion sense from his grandfather, Pop, who never met a loud floral pattern that he didn't like. Family lore has it that, back in the day, the grandparents were in the market for a living room suite. Pop saw this one at a furniture store, and without consulting Gee Gee, Mr. Ameliabee's grandmother, brought it home. Gee Gee was notorious for being picky in such matters, but in this case I think she had a point. She tried to coordinate the rest of the room with the couch, but it just wasn't possible. I've decided now that I too have The Couch, you can either spend a lot of time hating it and trying to cover it up, or learn to love it for its own unique charms. I'm going for the latter. Kind of like my relationship with my Mom--if you remove your expectations about what things *should* look like, you can start to enjoy them for what they are; a rather comfy couch, and a woman who loves in her own way.

Here is the couch, and yes, that is AJ in the corner. I asked him what he thought of the couch and he said "I died for this?" You did indeed. My apologies for the crappiness of the image here. Blogger will Absolutely Not upload images for me today. So, my only recourse is linking from Flickr. Click on the photos for better versions.












As you can see, it is a truly eye-bending combination of Gold and Bright Royal Blue. Wow.
Here is a detail of the pattern.




Whenever I spend a lot of time examining the pattern closely, I think of The Yellow Wallpaper, and make myself stop.

Terror in the Aisles, part two...

Once again, I've been terrified in the aisles of Meijer during a late-night trip.
This is, of course, the only time I'll go to Meijer, but 24-hour grocery/discount/garden stores are made for folks just like me.

Anyway. Do you remember Lucky Charms? The Frosted Oat Cereal with the fun little marshmallow shapes? Hearts, Moons, Stars, and Clovers? I'll bet you didn't know that the original marshmallows in this Magically Delicious cereal were tiny bits of my favorite treat, Circus Peanuts. I didn't until I read this. Ahh, Circus Peanuts, is there nothing they can't do?

But back on the subject of Lucky Charms and Terror. Remember when the Lucky Charms mascot leprechaun guy (formally known as L.C. Leprechaun) looked like this? Kind of cute, with a sparkly magic spoon.


Have you seen him lately?


He jumped out and scared me while I waltzed down the cereal aisle. Whoa. Is it just me or does old LC look, kinda creepy evil in some way? He's looking in a magic mirror, which for a leprechaun is probably not so weird, but his face is just, well, scary.

I think this would have scared the crap out of me as a kid. Granted I had/have an extremely active imagination, and barely made it through the boat-rowing-in-the-tunnel-scene from Willy Wonka...but this would have been Way Too Much. In fact, it still might be. Here's hoping I don't have nightmares about evil leprechauns tonight...

Hot Hot Heat

Not only the name of a cool band it is the current state of things here in Ameliabee land, and most of these United States.

Thankfully we have air conditioning, without which I think I'd have had a million asthma attacks--as it was I've only had one, which wasn't too bad.

But getting off the heat for a minute, I've been sending out resumes and resumes and applications and interviewing. I got an offer today for a data entry job that is a lot less than I wanted, and for which I am way overqualified. I have the potential of an interview for a job I really want, and I'd hate to have to call in sick to the data entry job for the interview. I'm debating about taking it, but I know I'd be looking for something better the whole time I was there, and I don't need to get a survival job just yet...

Also, I am getting a weird vibe from this job. I can't really put my finger on it, but something is just creeping me out powerfully. The guy who interviewed me was nice enough, although I think I learned more about him during the interview than he learned about me. Just something is really feeling odd about this whole setup, and I really believe in trusting your instincts in these sort of situations. Times when I haven't, I've seriously regretted it later.
Just don't know what to do. Advice?

Terror in the Aisles...

Late this evening, we stopped by Meijer (big grocery/discount store) for a few groceries.

Walking aimlessly down the dairy aisle, I was nearly run over by this bus...

It is Dick Cheney!! A Happy Dick Cheney, death-grip on the wheel, driving this high-fructose corn syrup powered bus full of children straight to hell.

Straight. To. Hell.






Mr. Ameliabee thinks I've finally lost it---what do you think? Bus drivin Cheney, or Delusional Ameliabee?

911..what is your emergency?

Hi everyone. Time once again for the 911 report! As always, culled from police blotters around the midwest, and a few special gems from other parts of the newspapers. So--pick up the phone and dial...

9:58: Advised male subject stole his revolver, subject possibly armed
**Make that a Very Strong Possibility…**

2:33: Request officer in reference to three male subjects in a car gave her a fake $100 bill at a yard sale **If you have enough in the cash box to make change for a fake $100 bill, you’ve had a pretty successful yard sale…**

9:57: Suspicious person/ vehicle: Advised there is a van parked beside the church that shouldn't be there **not The Church That Shouldn’t Be There! Eeek!**

10:42: Advised one of the renters there was possibly intoxicated, talking about black cats and snakes **Caller advised renter might have just been watching too much of the Nature Channel…**

4:00: Public drunk: Intoxicated male subject has messed up a bench
**All I can say is…Eeeew.**

10:45: Road hazard: Large orange barrel in middle of road just past the bridge,
**Caller advises barrel is located at the area where construction guys have the road all torn up…**

2:56: Advised he wrote a script, patient left with it, then came back and the script had been changed. **Caller advises editor/patient took out two whole scenes of backstory which are really important…**

5:35: Criminal mischief: Advised of vandalism on some equipment on a strip job. **Advised someone broke the heels off caller’s see-through plastic stripper shoes…**

4:37: Advised there was a Bellsouth pay phone in the small alley between the bowling alley and the building beside it **Caller advised she hasn’t seen a public pay phone since 1998…**

11:42: Criminal mischief: Rock throwers are back, M&R Towing **and this time, it’s personal…**

6:29: Burglary, unknown when: Someone broke in through a window trying to steal a pie **Subject was lead to house by clouds of steam resembling a crooked finger, beckoning him to the scene of the theft…**

And a few comments of note from a city council meeting:
"Randy Tylerson criticized the Landlord's Association for not showing up at some committee meeting held on the issue."
**What committee, was that Randy? Crap I don’t know, some committee…**

“It is kind of like a two-pronged sword here,” she said **Or maybe more like a double-edged fork?**

The Otherwise Girl, by Keith Claire

For a person who loves to read as much as I do, I own few books. I'm mostly interested in the reading, not the having. So if I have a copy of a book, it is usually a favorite.
I discovered my copy of this old favorite while unpacking, and gave it another read. I'm so glad I did!

The story opens with our narrator, Matt rolling into a quaint northern England village for a holiday with an old family friend, Dockhurst. Dock is an eccentric painter who is like an uncle to 15-year-old Matt and has invited him down from London for some drawing lessons.

Matt is met at the bus stop by a fire-haired beauty named Chloe who leads him out to Dock's studio/barn on the edge of town. Matt is instantly attracted to Chloe, who isn't all that she seems. In learning what it means to be "otherwise," Matt helps Chloe find what she has been looking for, and learns that sometimes love means letting go.

Honestly, I can't tell you much more without giving away important plot points.
I would absolutely recommend this book for an older middle-school/high school aged girl. I've always been an Anglophile, even as a kid, and Claire weaves in enough details of village life to make me want to go the Elverly on vacation. Although originally published in 1976, the story is in no way dated as it doesn't mention technology or anything that would sound clunky to modern teen ears.

Claire also does an especially good job with the awkwardness of being a teen--when you feel all elbows and knees, words don't come out like you think they should, and you are filled with longings you don't understand. While "otherwise" has a very concrete meaning in the story, there is a deeper level here--growing up is becoming otherwise, with the childhood you left behind only a shadowy memory.

I absolutely adored this book as a teenager, and again as an adult. This is the sort of book that stays with you and I have often thought about it through the years. My copy is beyond tattered and torn, so I'm going to order a new copy from Amazon. You can get one for a penny (plus shipping and handling, so about $3.50 total) well worth it in my mind.

Just in case my glowing praise didn't convince you, Google "the otherwise girl" (don't omit the quotes) and see how many people mention this as a fave book.

the otherwise girl
Originally uploaded by meshel.

I also learned from doing this that a British company is trying to make a film version, as well as this terrific picture on Flickr.

Technical assistance

Hey, since several people have asked, I thought I'd just make a quick post about adding comments.
If you have something you say about a post, you can comment on it. (or heck, if you just have something to say period--doesn't have to be about a post)

At the bottom of each post it says
posted by Ameliabee@ 10:15 PM 0 Comments
Just click on the 0 Comments (or 2 Comments or whatever it says) and join in!
If you want to leave a name, click on "other" and type your name and comments. You can post anonymously if you want to, I won't be mad.

So feel free to comment, read the comments, or not as the spirit moves you.
Or you can email me directly by clicking on my picture in the top left, and then the email field.

Wedding Dresses and Nekkid Men

One of my darling dearest friends is getting married this summer, and Beth dear I know you have everything picked out, but here is a wedding trend I think you should pay attention to.

After all, it is your fault I found this stuff...after you said that "All Eye's On You" was a bridal/formal shop, I decided to find out if they had a website. They don't, but I ended up finding this amazing new tradition.

Yes. You aren't seeing things. That is a nekkid man and a bride. (believe me, he is nekkid. you can zoom in Very Close on the website, and I zoomed and zoomed. No undies.)

This isn't the only time Mr. Be Natural appears--

If you want to see the originals for yourself, take a peek here and look in the catalog under wedding gown.

So Beth, I really think that you and Chris should consider this new tradition. You--look beautiful in your lovely wedding dress. Him--nekkid. (And I suppose, the groomsmen would have to be nekkid too, or at least in bikinis)
Too bad I didn't see this in time for my own wedding :)

More Phun with Phones

Oh Lord. After an hour, she's back.
Lulled by the false sense of security that the silent phone offered, I answered without looking at caller ID.

Me: Hello?
Her: Okay. Is this *ameliabee's cell phone number*
Me: Yes.
Her, repeating it very slowly: Is this *ameliabee's cell phone number*
Me, equally slowly: Yes...It...Is.
Her: Well, I'm looking for Robin
Me, trying not to sigh audibly: I know you are. But, here is the thing--there is only one person at this number, and that is me. My name isn't Robin. I don't know anyone named Robin. Whoever Robin is, they gave you the wrong number or something. There. Is No. Robin. Here. Okay?
Her, apparently awakening from a coma: But this is *ameliabee's cell phone number* right? I mean, that is this number, right?
Me: Yes. That is my number. That is this number. The only thing missing is Robin, and I don't know where you can find him or her. Okay?
Her: Him or Her?
Me: You know Robin. The Robin who does not have this telephone number.
Her: But this is *ameliabee's cell phone number*
Me, with a sigh this time: Yes, yes it is.
Her: Fine.

And....click.
I'm thinking about calling her from my land line and asking for Robin.

Eyes Only

Wow. Beth just simply rulz.

Contrary to her comment on a post below, she is not useless--but in fact one of the coolest, smartest and funniest people I've ever met. And as I've actually seen Carrottop in the flesh (in Wausau, at a low-income housing conference...long story) that is saying something.

Just how awesome is Beth? She sent me this great sign photo!

Not only a great salon name (it is a hair salon, right Beth? Not an eye bank or laser eye surgery place, I hope)
it also is a textbook case of inappropriate use of the apostrophe S.

What does the eye own? On?

Cell Phun

Just got the weirdest cell phone call...
It was from a Wisconsin area code, so I picked it up thinking it might be a long lost friend or something.

Me: Hello?
Her: What?
Me, confused: Um, Hello?
Her: Is this Robin's number?
Me: Robin? No.
Her: Robin, is this Robin's number.
Me: No, this is not Robin's number, sorry.
Her, bithcy: Put Robin on.
Me, politely: I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number, there is no Robin here, just me.
Her, getting wound up now: Put. Robin. On. Now.
Me, starting to get testy myself: You have the wrong number, this is not Robin's phone, nor is anyone named Robin here, okay?
Her: Is this *ameliabee's cell phone number*
Me: Yes, it is. But there is no Robin here.
Her: Whatever

And then, she hung up.
And then, the phone rang again. I didn't answer...figuring hearing my voicemail would wipe away all lingering doubt of Robin's presence at this number.
And then...the phone rang again.
Now we are on round 4. All I can say is Robin, would you please call this girl? She is driving me crazy!

Life goes on

I'm baaack! We finally, finally have our internet hooked up at home and I realize now exactly how addicted I am. Wow. There are worse things I could be addicted to--heroin, for instance, or collecting used mustard jars--at least I can learn some things on the internet, right?

Anywhoo. Here are some lovely photos from our trip to Kentucky.
As I mentioned before, we stopped at one of my favorite places on earth, the Falls Creek Paveillion. It is a Great Big gas station with a Wendy's, Taco Bell, and Baskin-Robins inside. Local wisdom has it that the couple who own this particular truck-stop went to Disneyland and were entranced with a building there called something like the Sun Pavillion. They took lots of photos, came back to KY and had their gas station built as a replica. In addition to being a truck-stop, the Paveillion serves as a sort of country music museum. There are about 20 TVs in various parts of the place (it is pretty big inside) and all are tuned to some country music video station. And that is not all. There are glass cases randomly placed throughout with relics from famous country stars. (Although a disproportionate number are in the Taco Bell, which I don't pretend to understand)

Here are two of my faves, all from the Taco Bell area's Elvis Collection.


Relics of the King are highly sought-after, and consequently worth a lot of money, even Elvis' Underwear which are being sold for $2200. So, any authentic memorabilia of Elvis is rather valuable. At the Paveillion, they have the requisite lock of Elvis' hair

And something a little weirder.

This is an Exxon gas credit card issued to Elvis, complete with the welcome letter and envelope. This doesn't appear to be a card he applied for, but one that the company sent out to try and get new customers (back in the days when they just sent credit cards to anyone who would use them) So--Elvis didn't sign this, or use it, and in fact there is no evidence that he ever actually touched it. Not such a hot collectible in my book.

There are some more photos (including the Giant Guitar! You don't want to miss that!) in my Flickr photos...including one of AJ in front of the 1900 megawatt coal generating plant near Louisa. He looks angry...

When it rains, it pours...

First, the good news: They fixed the bathtub and I can take a bath now, so there is a possibility of my calmer self emerging in the near future.

Now, the bad news:
1) Due to the aforementioned dining room waterfall, a patch of the ceiling in our dining room has crashed to the floor. This is not a completely bad thing, as the dropped ceiling there is Really Really Really Ugly and from the looks of it (the plaster underneath looks pretty bad) they'll have to replace the whole thing.

2) When the Penske was parked outside last night. Someone tagged it with spray paint. We'll have to pay for the damage, and heaven-only-knows how much that will be. If I ever catch the kid that did it I'm going to wear them out (as my mom would say). Little shit.

3) We spent another 8 hours in the truck yesterday, driving to Kentucky and back. The good part is we stopped at one of my favorite places--the Louisa Paveillion (yes, that is how they spell it) and I'll have photos to post when our internet gets hooked up at home.

4) Our internet does not get hooked up until Wednesday. I am having severe withdrawal episodes.

I've asked AJ (Answer Jesus) what all this means, but he is conspicuous by his silence. I'm truly on the verge of a Big Ugly Moving Breakdown, complete with Monumental Hysterics. I only hope it does not happen here in the public library...but as Nonanon and the Laundress can tell you, that does indeed happen.

Super Quick Update

Hi y'all.
I'm writing from the public computer at the public library, and the little ticking clock tells me I only have a few minutes left, so I'll be brief. (Or I'll intend to anyway, as you know I'm notoriously long-winded...)

We did indeed make it to Ohio in several large pieces, although about half-way through Indiana I wasn't so sure.

I want to give a huge, I mean HUGE shout out to one Ms. Lisa F. She came over and helped us load the truck--by which I mean did most of the loading herself. Rob and I would still be loading the god-forsaken truck if it weren't for her. She even politely neglected to mention that I was being Extra Super Whiny And Bitchy about the whole thing.
She is a goddess, and I have never had a better friend. Ever.

Our first night in the new place, I decided to take a bath. As I was soaking, Mr. Ameliabee noticed some splashy sounds coming from the first floor. Indeed, there was a waterfall coming from the ceiling, into the dining room, and continuing through that floor into the basement.
Big mess. I still don't know what the heck happened--we'd taken several showers and that was fine. The landlord is coming over to have a look this afternoon. In the meantime a big chunk of the ceiling fell down. All of this narrowly missed our computer, Mr. Ameliabee's books and our spiffy new sideboard. Thank God.

I asked Jesus what the heck was going on, and if this means the move was a big mistake. He said he needed to ask his Dad, so who knows?

But, other than floods and collapsing ceilings things are so far so good. I'm hoping to have our internet hooked up by week's end so more photos will be forthcoming.

What would Jesus do?

I don't know, but now I can just ASK HIM. Directly. No Middleman/Middleangel.

How can I do this? Because I have just received what is possibly the Greatest Gift Ever.


Ladies and Gentlemen, please say hello to Answer Me Jesus. Not only is this fellow a lovely shade of pink, he answers questions too! Just ask a question, give the Saviour a slight shake and turn him over to see the answer:


Here Jesus is telling me "The Holy Water Will Sting" This is not a good answer.

I have decided that Jesus will accompany us on any new and exciting adventures--including riding up front in the Penske on Monday as we drive across Indiana. You never know when you might just have a question!

Okay, who turned off my brain?

Lately I feel like someone turned off my brain and forgot to tell me. Or maybe I left it on for a few days and forgot the charge the batteries?

Here is just a short list of the things I haven't been able to remember these past two weeks:

• The last name of one of my dear friends from high school (Mr. Ameliabee finally came up with it)
• My mom's phone number (it hasn't changed since I was 8)
• The name of the band that sang "Blister in the Sun" (thankfully Mr. Ameliabee remembered that it was the Violent Femmes)
• Karly's last name
• How to get to Cub Foods from my house
• Why I came to Cub Foods
• What I did with the thing I was Just Holding, Right Here in My Hand for-the-love-of-god
• What I was looking for. I was looking for something, right?

And this is just the beginning. I know I'm really stressed out about moving, employment, etc in addition to my general background mental problems--but this scares me a bit. There are some serious mental illnesses in my family and I'm constantly on the lookout for symptoms in myself, which may or may not be a mental illness in and of itself, but I digress.

I don't think this is anything serious, maybe I'm just like Homer Simpson: "Besides, every time I learn something new, it pushes some old stuff out of my brain. Remember when I took that home winemaking course, and I forgot how to drive?"

I can still drive, so I guess I'm ahead of that curve...

They're the kids...

I found this whilst trolling around on YouTube. If you haven't discovered YouTube yet, you are really missing out...

This is the theme from a Saturday Morning Show that I loved, Loved, LOVED as a kid. It was called The Kids from C.A.P.E.R. (Civilian Authority for the Protection of Everybody, Regardless)

Here is the theme song from the opening credits: (Dial up warning, this is a big-ish file)


The premise of the show was that the Kids weren't just a lean mean crime fighting machine (who drove around in a van with a hot dog on the roof) they were also:
A) Very Cute
B) A Rock Band
C) Not such great singers, really--but refer again to A

There was a Kids from C.A.P.E.R. album, which my cousin Theresa had which included their only "big" hit...The Hurricane Song (which I dedicate to Beth).



Believe it or not, I remembered all the lyrics. 30 years later. I'll bet Theresa would too. We played that album so many times, I'm surprised it didn't melt. Or my Uncle didn't melt down and break it in half.

Theresa had the game Payday, which can only be described as a blatant attempt by our parents to get their education all mixed in with our fun. Any middle schooler can tell you-- these are two great tastes which do not taste great together. We of course, thwarted their evil learning plans by playing the game in our own way. That was, divide up all the cards (which were bills, loan payments, etc) and the money, and act like we (as wives of one of the C.A.P.E.R. Kids) were balancing our checkbooks.

I always picked PT, and Theresa picked Doomsday. (even as a kid I went for the smart guys!) We'd bitch about how much our husbands were spending on dry-cleaning, carp about "surprise" bills that we didn't know were coming, and harp about how our hubbies needed to bring home more money. We talked about raising our kids, how they needed haircuts, talked back and were a real disappointment. We must have sounded like little Peg Bundys, but I suppose we were learning after all...learning to become nagging housewives?

Wha??

I don't know wha my Ski Her is, but I'm sure it isn't good.

She has returned

Hey there. Long time, no type.

I could make excuses about my$*?%@ computer and long trip to Ohio, but...okay I will.

For some reason that I cannot understand, my computer aged approximately 100 years in a week. Seriously, I think I could chisel word documents out of stone faster than type them on this thing. For once though, I purchased the extendo-warranty from Best Buy...and I'm glad I did! I took it in, the Geek Squad had a look, and they fixed me right up. Now we are back in reasonably good shape, still running a little bit slow, but nothing I can't live with. What was the problem? I believe it had something to do with gremlins, space radiation and eggplant--or something like that. Seriously, I think that the fellow was not speaking English to me at some point. I suppose that is why they are Geek Squaders, and get to wear the nifty uniforms and I'm the girl on the other side of the counter saying, "then the screen was all like, black you know? And this thing was blinking? Right? and so I panicked and hit F10. Then it like took over and did something to the memory. I think."

Long trip to Ohio...well, it was long. I mean Really LONG. It is about a 9 hour drive one way, which by midwest standards isn't that bad. But since January I've driven it 4 times, which is way too many. Plus, most of the trip is driving diagonally through Indiana, so as not to miss one square inch. Woo hoo.

Only one more trip to go! We signed our lease for the new place, and got utilities all set up, etc. That was the easy part. The hard part was *dum, dum, te dum* The Bathroom.

As we all know, I am not in contention for any Housekeeper of the Year award, and Martha Stewart would probably start drinking drain cleaner straight out of the bottle if she saw my bedroom (I haven't made the bed since, lets see...how long have I been married? 11 years?) but my motto is clean enough to be reasonably healthy, without requiring much effort on my part. Like Nonanon, I love to read books about "nesting" and organizing your home, then toss them in a big pile in a corner somewhere. But...I look like the Avenging Angel of Good Housekeeping compared to the folks who lived in the new apartment. How bad was it?

There was mildew Inside the Showerhead.
Inside. the Showerhead.

And don't even get me started on the toilet. I am the girl who worked in nursing homes, cleaned up after many, many drunks in the bars I worked at and never batted an eye. The toilet seat made me gag out loud.
It was Green and Fuzzy around the hinges.
Green. and Fuzzy.

We went to Home Depot and bought a new toilet seat and showerhead. God Bless my sister Martha who helped with cleaning the shower and tub despite several bouts of gagging and getting a little high on cleaner fumes...

Seriously though. I get not being super clean. I get that. But how they could feel like they were getting clean in that shower stall is beyond me. Goodness and light eventually prevailed though--along with a lot of bleach. It is not possible for that bathroom to be cleaner if it were made out of Solid Bleach. Still and all, I'm going to paint it. I just won't feel good about it until I know that the Funk of Forty Thousand Years can no longer touch me.

Two more things of note--we went Glow Bowling, which was just about the most fun I've had in a long time, and Julie got 4 strikes in a row! I know three in a row is called a Turkey, and apparently anything more than that is a "bagger." So Julie had a 4-bagger. Is it just me or does that sound vaguely insulting? I like Super Turkey better.

Also had a trip to Mickey's where a fellow asked if he could drink our liquor remainders, another guy named Ben became our new best friend, and many White Russians were had. Good times.

There are quite a few new photos in the the Flickr account if you want to have a look-see. Just click on the Flicker button thing over in the right margin area. Some more of the new apartment, some of the trip, a few new signs and Glow Bowling!

Quick,call 911!

Its time again, for the 911 Report! Actual police blotter reports culled from newspapers around the Midwest. (snarky comments provided by me, of course)
Enjoy, and don't forget--no problem is too small for a 911 call!

3:51: Extra patrol: Bee Branch.
Wow! I didn’t know I had a whole Branch dedicated to me!

2:36: Prowler complaint: Advised he saw the shadow of a person around his residence, Rt. 689.
Caller also reports, a face through a window, crying in the night, the night which turns into morning… (that was for all you Barry fans out there!)

7:25: Advised subjects were fighting chickens across from Country Market past 201 Speedway.
Caller advises that the chickens are winning…

7:40: Request officer to check out female with short blonde hair at Hill Top Market, running the cash register, had trouble giving change.
Caller wants to know what is wrong with kids these days? Don’t they learn math in school? They can’t make change without the cash register? Caller also feels they play their music too dang loud...

8:26: Reference to stolen four-wheeler, caller advised subject that stole four-wheeler is leaving the area with the four-wheeler.
Sir, you’ll have to tell me what item has been stolen, I’m just not clear on that…

8:32: Advised a male subject came to his house and threatened him and advised he was going to go get something to take care of him, Millers Creek.
Male subject returned with several spa treatments and a yummy dessert…

1:12: Extra patrol: Reference to a couple of subjects walking up and down the road in front of her residence, Riverdale Drive.
Caller advises she doesn’t like that physical fitness crap…

10:38: Suspicious person/ vehicle: Advised there are some bikes in front of a store, S. Mayo Trail.
Caller advises he built a parking lot for cars, not these crazy bicyclists…

12:05 p.m.: Caller requested the F.D. in reference to her 15-month-old child is locked inside her vehicle and he needs suctioned.
Suctioned!? You know, I just can’t improve on this one.

4:41: Advised he was renting a house and the renters have black plastic on the windows.
Attention All Units, we have a possible Goth sighting on Taylor Branch—caller also reports hearing something called “Bauhaus” and a general feeling of ennui…

3:15: Assault: Female has been assaulted at B&W Appliance.
Geez…those salesmen are getting serious about selling those front load clothes washers!

5:28: Suspicious person/vehicle: Male subject walking in Arby's parking lot carrying a big stick.
Subject may be difficult to locate, as he is Walking Softly…

I'll even admit it in public!

I downloaded two songs from the American Idol Season 5 Encores. Yes I did. (and yes, I did watch this season, thank you very much. Heck, if they had this show when I was in my 20's you can bet your bottom dollar that I'd have been waiting in the long audition line!)
Of course, one was Chris Daughtry. Rowr!
(with many thanks to Nonanon for the wonderful new word. Rowr, indeed!)

I was somewhat disappointed in Chris's song--a cover of Bon Jovi's Wanted Dead or Alive. Not disappointed in his performance, which was great, but there were so many better songs he did during the show. But I suppose they don't really have control over which songs go on the album, in fact I don't think the contestants have control over much, unfortunately.

But the other song that caught my ear was Elliot Yamin's cover of Moody's Mood For Love. This is an old and storied song, covered by everyone from Tito Puente and Sarah Vaughn to Queen Latifah (on The Dana Owens Album, which is excellent, by the way).

It is a tricky, vocalese song--and though I have a Large Love for Jason Mraz, I'm not generally a fan of vocalese-ish stuff. But Elliot Yamin has a voice so smooth and sweet that I am hopelessly hooked. Hopelessly. If you have iTunes, and love a great romantic tune...it is worth all 99 cents!

Having issues

With publishing, etc.
So, while it may appear that I was extremely productive this morning, I was just finally getting some posts to publish. There are still a few left from last week that I can't get to work...
Whew!

Melting away....

It is 875 million degrees* already this morning. It is only 7 am.
Yesterday, it was 90 degrees in International Falls.
90!
Above zero!
It was only 89 in Phonenix!

If only I could sweat away the extra pounds, I'd be almost normal-sized by now...

*temperature reading approximate. The time-temperature phone says it is only 78, but they obviously need to re-calibrate their equipmment.

Strange day...

Mr. Ameliabee and I went to the Mayfair Mall in Milwaukee to hide from the heat. We were there for a few hours, and the emergency broadcast system (you know, the "Breep, Breep, Breep, this is a test of the emergency broadcast system..." thing that you hear on the radio? They apparently have them in malls too.) kept sounding about some guy they were looking to arrest. It gave the whole afternoon a sort of Department of Homeland Security feel to it. At least I felt like my threat level had been raised. Definitely felt more Orange than Yellow.


Anyway. We were also in Milwaukee to snap a photo of yet another great sign--from a 24 hour restaurant in West Allis.
When are they open? I don't know. I suppose we'll ask Mr. Alway, he owns the place, after all.


So a good portion of the day spent in Milwaukee. When we got back to Madison, we decided to go to the Culver's in Middleton. Which is where I ran into someone from my high school class.

This might not sound remarkable, but keep in mind that I attended a very small (about 350 kids) school, in a small-ish town which is located approximated 450 miles from Madison. Of my graduating class of 100 I'd say about 40 left town after graduation. Also, that I graduated 2o years ago.

It was the weirdest thing. We walked into Culver's, and I noticed him as I was going in to wash my hands. This is a fairly distinctive looking guy--we always thought he looked like David Letterman--so I was stopped dead in my tracks. I tried not to look like I was staring while we ate, but I finally got my nerve up to go say hi. He recognized me right away, and said that I hadn't changed a bit since school. All those years ago, we weren't friends really, but it was a small school so you ended up being kind of friendly with everyone by default. He has lived here for about 3 years now, and his parents were visiting from home. We chatted briefly about jobs, and classmates (neither of us really kept in touch with much of anyone) and then we both went to eat our custards.

Of course, my crazy brain started in the moment I sat back down.
This is so embarrassing...you don't have any makeup on, your hair looks like Nick Nolte's, and you have no fewer than 3 spots of ketchup on your shirt. You look like you crawled out from under a truck stop. Haven't changed since school? What did he mean by that? Is he trying to say you were fat in high school? Cause you are fat now, darlin. F-A-T. You know, that reunion is this summer...and you better start working on it Right Now if intend to weigh less than a baby rhino by August. Let's see, if you could lose 5 pounds a week by the reunion you could probably lose enough to look like a single person instead of triplets sharing a dress. And how are you going to get your Ph.D before August?

And then, I stopped myself. I realized he might have actually meant that I looked good, and that he was glad to see me. He might not be, at this very moment, on the cell phone to every single person in our class, wheezing with laughter at what a fat loser I was, and sending them a cameraphone picture of my ass waddling back to eat my custard. He might have just been glad to see me.

For about 15 minutes, I managed to stay right there in the moment and enjoy the weirdness of the universe that brought us together in Culver's. And I was glad to see him too.

I am proud of myself for making this much progress, and for being able to step out of the crazy cycle this way. I hope that it is a sign of mental health to come. To come in baby steps...

New Blog on the Block

I think that you should check out this blog:

Maundering

by none other than my dear husband.
Some interesting political commentary, reviews of Sci-Fi and Fantasy fiction, as well as some original short fiction.
Good stuff!

The GIANT CORN of Dublin

As advertised!

Whilst in Columbus, we visited the GIANT CORN of Dublin. I'd seen this art installation many times before, but never stopped to get a closer look--but digital camera (with dying battery) in hand I stopped this time!

Sam Frantz was an agricultural engineer who invented the first hybrid corn. This art installation is on the site of his former farm on...Frantz Road, of course. An interesting way to honor both his memory, and Dublin's (recent) history as an farming community.

I've looked around the internet for a little more information about this, and have discovered that there are apparently quite a few people who Hate The Corn. They truly hate it. A just a few samples of the corn hate (unattributed, of course)

"that atrocity is only a coupla miles from my house i specifically don't go that way as often as i can just to avoid it."

"I'm embarassed to say I live very near this monstrosity. It's like a big crop of man parts attacking!!! Quite scary up close!"

"The corn is a huge embarassment and a complete pisser of wasted tax dolllars."

Now. Please. As the photo attests, we've been rather close up to the corn, and I wasn't scared. And honey, if you are mistaking corn for a field of giant "man parts" I don't want to know about your dating life. In fact, if you refer to them as "man parts" I think you might need to take remedial Sex Ed. But... if the good folks of Dublin are running around thinking that this is a giant field of penii, that explains why they are so "embarassed." And while we're talking about wastes of the taxpayer's money...I could think of a quite few that cost considerably more than the Giant Corn. But we won't get started on that. (note: the Corn was not funded by tax revenue per se, partially from a grant from the city--taken from the hotel bed tax revenue--and partially from private sources. There was no Corn Tax, in case you were wondering)

Far from being scared by my close-up view of the corn, I was intrigued. Each ear is, like real corn, subtly different, but taken in the wide view seem identical. It takes enlarging something as simple and common as corn for us to see it as something more than a collective noun: corn. Perhaps that is the point here. What else are we missing, in our blurry world of driving past and skimming over? What else are we reducing to a collective noun--lives, joys, people?

To quote William Blake:

"To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour." (from Auguries of Innocence)

Sadly, for those who are Corn Haters, not even 109, eight foot tall ears of corn can show them the infinities in their hands.