Mom: 1, Hubris: 0

I came home from work today and absentmindedly turned on my computer as I picked up a plastic bottle from my desk and took it to my recycling. I turned back and saw an ominous black screen with a blinking cursor.

I leaned in and looked at it and restarted my computer.

Blinking cursor.

Restart.

Blinking cursor.

Restart.

Blink _ ing _ cur _ sor

I did what any rational person would do I immediately called Nik and then texted Bryce. The two individuals that can usually find out what error messages are all about.

Nikki was busying happy hour-ing it up with her colleagues. I secretly wished I was as well.

Bryce texted back a simple and peaceful text that either my hard drive was fried or it wasn't plugged in.

I looked at my surge protector and saw it was plugged in and proceeded to unplug every USB connector until I had just my screen and tower plugged in.

Blinking cursor.

I then moved those two plug-ins another power strip.

Success! So I thought, there must have been an electric disturbance in my house and my surge protector gave its life for my non-turned on electronics. Thank you, you've been good to me for eight years surge protector.

I went to the dreaded Waldemart and purchased a new lovely power strip with childproof plug-ins; just in case Beth visits.

As I was plugging everything back in I squatted down on the ground and plugged back in my last USB port when I squinted and saw what looked to be a headphone jack. I gasped and recalled this conversation two days ago with my mother:

Me: I just want speakers with a headphone jack, the new ones I got don't have them.
Mom: Our computer has a headphone jack in the tower.
Me: Mom, yours is new mine is eight years old.
Mom: Yeah, but our computer has a headphone jack... I think I mean I haven't been on it in a while.
Me: Mom, my computer is not like yours.
Mom: Okay... so what kind of speakers?

I called my Mom this evening and started off the conversation the way anyone would like to hear: "I'm going to tell you a story that ends with, 'You were right.'".

Sometimes just when you think you know more about computers than your parents they sneak in and hit you over the head with repetitive observations.

Ceasing Ramble.

But What Are You Going to Do for Family?!

I just read my friend Mel's blog about her choice to not have children and nodded at her statements. I had made a comment today as my co-worker left work early (although she asked me first because she's considerate) to pick up her son as the school district got out early due to snow/ice/winter mix that one day I'm going to call in sick for my stuffed animals.

I don't have a kid. I don't have a roommate.

So under the guidelines of our sick leave I can't take any unless my parents are in the hospital, (Which I never updated - my Mom's surgeries went fabulously and her medications are reducing because of it!) so I should be able to call in sick for the basis of mental health.

Single individuals have certain expectations on them as if somehow our lives are not as significant enough because our needs are not pushed to the backburner for our child. I don't mind the flexibility that I can give my co-worker and others because I'm easy to count on as my responsibilities extend to the tips of my own fingers.

I've made the same choice though. To be selfish. I'm so selfish right now that even though I'd love a cat, I'm not adopting one because of travel plans I have that wouldn't be nice to leave a cat alone when it's trying to adjust to a new home.

One of my aunts asked me when I informed her that I would not be having children, ever. "But what are you going to do for family?!" I pointed to the exhuberant cousins and second cousins running around my Grandmother's like miniature pixies on speed and said, "I've already got the family."

And in all honesty I have friends that can be like children often, we all switch off who is the parent figure depending on who is acting like a child, but my parenting gene oozes out of me.

I know I'd be a great Mom, but I also know I'm too selfish right now.

I'm never going to give birth to a child.

But I wouldn't mind adopting one that can form full sentences of why they are angry, crying, laughing, or being a general pain.

Communcation is Key.

And my student worker B and I say. No babies.

Ceasing Ramble.

Yes Madonna, I Was Annoyed Too, But Thanks for Making me Love You

I would like to state that the reason I purchased a ticket in June to see Madonna in New Jersey is because it seemed to be the best place for the people who were coming together to see her. Mostly though... I promised Nikki that the next time Madonna had a concert that I would see it with her, because she loves Madonna and has never went to a concert with friends.

I like Madonna, but after the concert I loved her.

I loved her with curlicue hearts and cheesy feelings and expressions you only read in tween romance novels that make you want to gouge out your eyes with a dull spoon, like Twilight.

The Sticky and Sweet tour was dropping by Atlantic City, New Jersey at Boardwalk Hall and the venue was lovely. We got to walk by the shore (granted it was freezing in my belief, probably for a normal mortal it was merely slightly cold) and sipped on some coffee while squinting at the merch hoping that there would be something we wanted to buy.

As we tromped into the concert hall and popped out in one of the concourses and it was an instant candy land. If I hadn't just eaten a melty Philly sandwich I would have most likely giggled, skipped, and purchased popcorn, hotdogs, and hard candy. Yes. They were selling hard candy there which Nik and I wondered aloud if it was because of the album being titled Hard Candy or if it was a normal occurrence at the Boardwalk.

I'm going to believe it was because of the album.

We stopped by a stand to see if we won a Blackberry, but we won a necklace! I loved how the attendant made it sound SO awesome. Although it was fun, the necklace lit up and made me feel like it was my glo-stick and I was going to be going into a rave.

Sadly, this was not true...

Nikki had hyped me up for the concert telling me that I would be standing and dancing and in a utopia of concert-goers. Atlantic City did not receive the message.

Being from the Midwest I'm used to nice and friendly concert goers who make friends with everyone around them and I might be guilty of this at most every baseball game I attend.

I was excited when we received neighbors, but was shut down.

It was okay I was still super excited and Nikki and I were bouncing up and down when a DJ came out to get the crowd pumped up. He started at about 8:02 for the 8:00 concert.

Madonna came out on stage at 8:55.

I already thought that was awesome. She made me wait, which just let me play with my rave necklace and overhear the words that would taint the concert.

Mom: I'm glad we're sitting up here we won't have to stand like those seats on the floor. They'll just stand the whole time.
Daughter: Yeah...

I panicked as I thought, But lady sitting behind me.... I plan on standing the entire time

As Nikki and Carolyn brought back watery refreshments I relayed the information to Nikki and she said, "Well she's going to be disappointed because there is going to be standing up here too."

At that point I felt like Nikki was my big sister and would take on all who picked on her little sister who wanted to stand and dance too.

So back to the opening, the video screens buzzed to life to show a piece of candy being painted and going down a gumball machine. (Think the Coca-Cola commercials without the scary creatures, but with Madonna sound bytes.)

I was getting extremely excited at this point and bouncing in my seat more just waiting for her to be on stage so I could stand up and yell. The wave of people standing up from the floor flowed back towards us and then... then... no one around us stood up. Nikki whined to herself like a wounded animal, "What's wrong with these people?"

The screen lifted and there she was sitting in a throne showing her dominance over the minions, her concert goers. Nikki and I shot out of our seats and yelled and clapped as she burst into Candy Shop. The first words in the chorus are, "get up out of your seat, get out onto the dance floor". Obviously she wanted us to be standing so we danced around and I marveled at the leotard... unitard... scrap of fabric that she had on as she danced around. She's fifty. She had more energy in the four minutes and fifteen seconds of this song than I've ever felt in my life, except when I was seven and perfect in every way.

She then moved into Beat Goes On and I my ADHD exploded as the video screens showed her backup singers in giant form. She also had a pretty dancer with her shaking and grooving across the massive front of the edge of the stage.

It was sometime during this song that I was tapped on the back and a lady two rows behind me said, "I can't see!" In my euphoria of dancing and singing I thought... oh she must want my binoculars. I quickly realized she wanted me to sit down and I just turned around and whispered to Nikki what Ms. Not Happy to Be at a Concert said. Nikki shook her head and I smiled, I had a co-conspirator in rebellion.

I mean I was at a concert and not a knitting conference, right?

The next song was Human Nature and there was a video in the background that had a petite blonde woman in it re-enacting the video of the guy who was stuck in the elevator for a ridiculous amount of time. It was a nice statement, I thought about the constant surveillance of celebrities, once I figured out it was Britney Spears, and how we put them in a little box and poke them. Or I'm just projecting my analytical self on everything... ever.

As the strains of Vogue came through I figured that people would be excited to sing along with a widely known and loved Madonna song. Not in our section. The dancing was not complex, but I didn't need it to be as I was overtaken by the video screen behind her showing this simple graphic of black and white lace imposed over a young flawless face.

Then came Die Another Day, which I was upset she didn't sing it. This was the first costume change song so I saw video of Madonna singing and there were boxers in a rink dance fighting! During the road trip I found out that apparently this song holds deep love in the deep recesses of my brain. (Which Belinda would tell you is massive with trivia "knowledge") So Nikki turned to me and mocked me, "I love this song!" Which must have been "I will talk to people and interrupt the concert" in tall man language. Yes, we were asked to sit down again and Nikki was my hero for me and said no. Reminded him it was a concert and to stand up and have fun. I think she hit him right in the kisser and he went down.

The next song was Get Into the Groove. I don't even remember this song as I started to feel guilty, feel stupid for feeling guilty, and wish that I would just move down into the aisle with the two gay boys who were dancing their heart out. I mean Madonna is their national anthem right?

I know it's close for me.

The next song was Heartbeat, from her new album. So I didn't know it as well, but it took through this song for me to get back into the song since I still felt guilty and still was angry for feeling guilty. I just stared at the graphics of the heart that moved from coal, beat, moved to a lighter rock heart, beat, and then to a diamond heart. I was transfixed.

Next was Borderline and I was back in it to win it. Madonna brought out her guitar. The song was lower and with a guitar Madonna struck some rocker poses and I WISH I remembered more how the song sounded, but I don't. I blame the remnants of guilt.

The next song, She's Not Me, was amazing. On the video screens there were old 'versions' of Madonna, flipping through the catalog of her images and life. Many of them were timed to specific lyrics in her song. I was giggling through some of that just because of the editing. I was so transfixed to the main stage and Madonna that when she walked out to the smaller platform I was aghast. There were backup dancers! They were dressed like some of the Madonnas we saw on the screen! Brillant! Material Girl, Open Your Heart, Like a Virgin, Blonde Ambition. She moved slowly around and took off a piece of their clothing, a veil, the cone bra, a wig (my favorite) and tassels and throws them. She kisses the Like a Virgin bride... which I kept thinking that she was tasting a piece of her past. Afterwards the dancers were taken down into the ground floor of the stage and Madonna gathered the pieces of her past and put them on and crawled down the runway to the main stage.

The next song was Music and it started with Madonna off stage as you hear "last night a DJ saved my life" and then the screech of a subway train. Her dancers emptied out of the train, aka the video screens, so they came out and distracted us and then Madonna joined in as pieces of the song were scrawled as graffiti on the subway. It was super fun and would have been better if I had more than one dancing maniac beside me.

The next bit was a costume change, the music was a mix of the Eurythmics, Here Comes the Rain Again and Madonna's Rain. (I directly stole that from Nikki, because I totally don't know the Eurythmics song). Most of my thoughts during this was... rain. pretty. ooo water effects... oh why is Nikki sitting? Why... damnit I can't be the lone rebel.

So I sat for what felt like an hour.

Madonna emerged from the middle of the further part of the stage on top of a baby grand piano. She sang The Devil Wouldn't Recognize You. As this was from the new album and slower I didn't know it as well, I most likely skipped it. The rain effect kept coming down from around her a video screen that went 360 around. Purty. I want one. Madonna was covered in a black cloak that made her kinda look like the sexier version of a Ring Wraith or Death Eater, wherever your fandom lies.

Spanish Lesson was next or... how not to ever learn Spanish from Madonna. It's a fun upbeat song and had pretty graphics behind her scrawling the words in as she danced with her dancers bits and pieces of Spanish traditional dances flipping partner to partner. The interesting thing is they all were covered in the same black cloaks that she had on previously.

How embarrassing they totally were in last song's fashion.

Tackeeeeeeey.

Madonna brought out her guitar again as she admonished everyone who wronged me that day by saying, "This is not a sitting concert! Get up out of your seats!"

Nikki and I popped up like our seats were on fire and clapped and screamed to chastise the concert poopers.

The next song was Miles Away, which has grown on me for its incredible sadness. Really listen to it and try not to feel the pain. She used a lot of GoogleEarth on this and instead of just depressing me with lyrics put pictures to it as she showed poor nations. But damn do I love the song. So yay.

La Isla Bonita and this was so super fun, because it was mixed in with some Greek song (I'm basing this on the end) too so it was a multicultural affair. Her dancers were in super bright costumes and kicking it. At the end of the song there was a couch on the little stage and she plopped down with a band member and took a shot of Ouzo. I yelled Opa! I don't think she heard me. Or Nikki for that matter.

Then there was an interlude where Madonna got to sit and watch one of her backup dancers twirl and remove four or five skirts.

The next song was You Must Love Me. It was her and a string... quarter? They showed video of Evita on the screens, mostly parts of little Eva and none of her, which interesting choice.

She intentionally missed her intro and chastised the audience "This is where I'm supposed to start. It's kinda smoky in here. Are you going to continue smoking your cigarettes? That's really annoying me." But it was beautifully sung... I really didn't think she was going to sing this one, so I was super happy.

Then she sang 4 Minutes. She wore football pads with this, which cracked me up to no end. You need them to save worlds! There were these locker sized Justin Timberlakes that moved about stage (4) and her dancers would pop out too from these. She climbed up on one of the JTs and it was interesting, but I think I would have liked the bigger JT like the earlier Beat Goes On.

But what do I know, I'm not Madonna.

Like a Prayer followed and was gorgeous. I was still amazed people didn't stand up for this one at least to raise their dayglo necklace and sway. The scripts floating on the video screens and I clapped ridiculously loud when I saw, "Treat your neighbors as you wish to be treated", I guess it was latent Prop 8 feelings emerging.

Then she played the opening bars to Ray of Light and I had forgot they were going to play it in my state of love and harmony with the world because Madonna sang to me about prayer. The lights came down and it felt a little bit 80s with the lights. Then again it also felt a little more rave club-like too. There were motorcycle helmet wearing dancers on stage with her that Carolyn later said are a lot like what Daft Punk wears. I shrugged and commented again on how New Jersey's no pumping your own gas law was ridiculous (but I did take in that information).

At the end of the song, it ended with the spotlight on her alone on stage, and she made shadow puppets on the wall who fought each other. Nikki told me for, I'm not exaggerating, the 25th time that night that she loved her. I nodded as my heart pitter-pattered for her too.


Next was request time, which... Amir, you picked poorly. Everybody. I don't know the song.

I was hoping for Express Yourself or Cherish. Something peppy and something most everyone knew.

Madonna doesn't even know Everybody.

So, she sang one line and had us sing the next, although no one, including Amir (pure guess), knew all the words to that song. She wrapped it up by saying, "You sucked, I sucked, we both sucked."

She continued to have a conversation with a different man in the audience, asking if she was keeping him awake, if it was past his bedtime, if she was boring him. I don't know if he understood a word she was saying. Which I thought was kinda funny. You could tell she was totally annoyed with people, possibly New Jersey as a whole. I hope she wrote to her children that evening, "Jersey is not a place to ever have a concert. Love, Mama."

Then she sang Hung Up. I love her for sampling Abba. There was a chess game in the background, it took all my attention and there was a show down between the Queen and King. She told us to root for the Queen. We cheered and then her dancers... previously so happy started attacking her and she fended them of with her guitar, which I'm pretending was a Fender. Just for jokey pun sake. In the end the Queen smashed through the King and I chortled inside thinking... wow. What a concert to get out anger.

The next song was the last (boo) Give It 2 Me. It was the party ending all ravers ask for... although my section still thought they were at the Westminster Dog Show. I hopped up and down an Carolyn was up and dancing.

It was energizing, there was a video game on the monitors behind her, which really listen to some of the noises in the song it is a friggin' video game!

When it said, "GAME OVER" I pouted and then sat.

The lights came up and the strains of Holiday poured out from the monitors. Nikki laughed, "She's never singing this again! ... But she'll end the concert with it."

I looked to my right and saw the lady who originally asked me to sit down flip us off.

Stay Classy New Jersey.

Ceasing Ramble.


Edited to Add: When we were walking to the casino to get an after drink and were talking about the people who were the downers two ladies behind us said they were sitting in our section and were so happy we refused to sit down and when asked replied, "It's a concert".

Sweet Vindication.

Grooming Matters

I've been hating my hair this week and decided to call and get it all chopped off.

This was the first time in a long while I haven't gone in with a picture as a backup. You might ask why I always do this... mostly because I seem to lose the complete ability to vocalize what I want when it comes to clothing, hair, or basically style.

I'm inept.

I actually have made a promise with my friend Annie that I will go shopping with her and she will pick things out for me.

The only requirement is that I be drunk.

Because I hate shopping.

Detest.

But I decided I would post pictures here before Nikki and I embark on what I'm calling Our Economic Stimulus Plan.

Basically our road trip to the east coast to see Madonna. We'll be meeting up with Carolyn there and I will again be avoiding my family during Thanksgiving.

But now for you moment of zen (or looking at pictures of my hair cut and how not like me these pictures look: my face did a weird angle thing. Silly face.

Pay special attention to my nose... it could cut you!


My words behind the cut: short, layered, can be styled in five minutes in the morning. I almost fell asleep while she was cutting my hair. This probably means I'm tired and also that there is nothing better than someone else doing your daily grooming for you.

Maybe I'll buy a monkey.

Ceasing Ramble.

Pirates at the Ballpark

I found a picture on my phone when I was recently going through it and this one made me giggle.



A whole lot.




There are pirates at Kauffman Stadium!


Yes, I know what you're thinking that he merely is bringing in a high-powered... well monocular, is all I can think. I did think maybe it was a scope to some ridiculously large gun and I wouldn't be surprised if he has one of them, but it just made Daniel and I laugh so much.


All we could do is go Arrrrrr! Arrr! Arrr? Arrr! repeatedly.


The joke was a little bit on us because I think this was the day that Jose Guillen decided to talk back to a fan that was yelling at him.


The pirate saw it all.


If we were the Pirates I would dress up EVERY ballgame.


While this man would fit right in.

This ramble be ceasing me mateys!

NaNoWriMo

I finally am going to join up with NaNoWriMo.





I'm not sure I can make it to the final outcome, but I'm sure going to try.

If you're not familiar with NaNoWriMo. Please visit the homepage, it's really a pretty neat little thing and flies against what is usually the issue for me in writing. Not perfecting, but just going through and spitting out the content and getting 50,000 words out in that time.

Since I was behind on remembering about NaNoWriMo, I am going to be a full week back and only have 23 days to write... add in all of the hoopla that I have this month and it might get interesting.

Follow my progress if you'd like.

And now, to think of an idea.

Hmm.

Ceasing Ramble.

Unexpectedness

I opened up my mailbox while on the phone with Beth last night and saw a card from my Grandpa. I was all ooo and yays. I stuffed the letter in my side bag to protect it from the rain and ran into my house with my groceries.

I forgot about the card until this morning when I was pushing my morning breakfast into the side bag.

I plopped into the recliner and felt it wobble forward and backward as I opened up the card. It was a cute front that we're used to from all of our grandparents.

I giggled at first remembering the awesome card Rach had sent me for Halloween, but as I opened it I saw that twenty dollar bill fall quickly into my lap and read the inside part of the card, the generic poem lilted on "Wishing you life's sweetest moments filled with smiles and cheer, for a birthday so memorable it lasts throughout the year!" I smiled and thought that my Grandpa sent my birthday card an almost two full weeks before my birthday to make sure it got to me on time, but then I focused on his neat penmanship under the Happy Birthday.

"You are sweeter than the strawberries."

I started crying.

Through sniffles and tears I read the rest "Hope you will enjoy your birthday. Love you, Grandpa G"

Even right now I'm misting up as I check to see how he wrote it. Earlier I had told Beth when I retrieved the letter that I was excited to have Grandpa's address to hopefully start writing him letters.

Interesting how one sentence can make your heart melt and remember when you were younger and your Grandparents let you stay up late to watch TV.

Or how you would lay on your stomach feeling the carpet beneath you and hear the easy squeak of their recliners as they read the paper.

But most of all how one simple sentence can make you feel so loved.

Ceasing Ramble.

I missed it!

I missed National Coming Out Day!

I'm a bit upset as I was excited to blow up balloons and celebrate it in my office hopefully encouraging a conversation with the students that I saw that day.

On a bright side though, I did have a lovely conversation with my conservative Christian student worker, B.

B likes to talk about her classes with me and openly debate, respectfully!, things that she is working out in her head. She bopped into my office showing me the book for her new half-term course. She giggled as she waved about the printouts that were hole-punched and kept together with a paper clip. I asked he how she liked the class. She crinkled her nose up and said that it felt a bit rudimentary compared to her World Diversity and America course she had previously taken. She waxed poetic about the professor and it sounded like a class that would have affected me immensely had I taken it in undergraduate studies.

Which she then bounced into her current course Human Sexuality after she talked about LGBT panel that had spoken in World Diversity and America as a comparison to the panel from Queers & Allies that came to her Human Sexuality course. She found it informative and only had one qualm that the panel and the other students became very argumentative when the question was brought up of "is being LGBT a choice?"

She said that many started lambasting the religious question, as they felt it was condeming those who identified as LGBT.

She spoke up about Christianity and from her claming up it sounded like she was yelled at for doing so, but the thing that I loved learning in talking to her. She believes that being LGBT is not a choice, that it is something within. I didn't dig more, but she and I do talk about how being a Christian and being a "Christian" are different aspects.

A lot of what I see in the media and arguements are from those who are "Christian" who use quotes for a sort of propoganda, but don't have a time when they questioned the verses that they spout out (as B did) and actually see the Bible as a form of literature that needs to be seen through each eyes.

B and I left the conversation with the words that I used to sum up what I thought she felt needed to be said, no one is the judge of anyone else. Whomever, or whatever higher power (or lack thereof) is what will determine how you are in the afterlife.

Live your life with respect of the human, animal, or even space that you encounter.

Hear that Domino's?

Ceasing Ramble.

Friend, How You Have Disappointed Me So

I worked for Domino's.

I loved Domino's.

I always made all my friends order Domino's.

I think those days might have ended.

So Nik and I were hungry on Sunday and in the sadness of not getting Beth to bring us food because she was working diligently on her Halloween costume, which at one point I plan on posting ridiculous amounts of pictures about, we decided to lazily call Domino's.

Nik ordered an order of hot wings. I ordered an order of chicken kickers that arrived with a little less kick than usual...



As you can see the normal ten piece chicken kicker order has actually been five pieces that are cut in half to equal ten pieces. I called and informed them that it looked like my chicken kickers had been, in fact, cut in half. I was put on hold. When they picked the phone back up they said that they cut kickers in half when they are "too big". I notified them that I used to work at Domino's and never did this in preparation. They offered to send another order, but couldn't promise that they wouldn't be cut in half as well.

I hung up the phone and stared at my sliced kickers and decided I needed to write a letter to Domino's. I'll update with the response, they hopefully will give soon.

On the part of the Domino's team they did bring another order and it was cut as well. These were a bit more soggy so I know that it was taken out on another run for the driver and they stopped by before heading to the store a mere two blocks away.

I've never been so disappointed by Domino's in the years of service, but this was a downer.

So if anyone else has had this happen... ever with Domino's please let me know. I feel like it is a 'store policy' only and that it is simply to keep down the kicker prep to save money and increase profit margins from the truck order.

But, I only worked there once, a "long time" ago and maybe things are different now.

Ceasing Ramble.

Edited to Add: If you were wondering Nik's wings were not cut in half because one of them was deemed "too big".

The Weigh We Fall

I came home from work today after a taxing afternoon of appointments and plopped down almost immediately in my computer chair. Chatted away while I played some American Idol - Karaoke Revolution and turned that off promptly so I could check out the Biggest Loser.

I changed into my comfy clothes and plopped back down to watch the show.

I thought about my first year of graduate school and how I was working six days a week at a movie rental place, walking around and doing stocking, a somewhat sedentary job (but with quite a bit of moving) and then I would come home and do my exercise.

Now, I have a full-time job that is eight hours of sitting. I come home and I sit.

I've become ridiculous.

So as it comes with seeing those that are worse off with me, I have a chance to not get to the point that they are... I know that part of it is from the move of the activity of the job and how I would rather do workouts at 3 pm, but it is not time to blame.

It is time to take charge.

I've weighed myself tonight.

183.3 pounds.

The heaviest I've ever been. I know that. I've known that I've gained weight, but I've ignored it.

Day by day I've ignored it.

Right now as I wrap up this post I am going to walk on the treadmill for an hour. I've been in fights with the treadmill before. I think one will be fought there tonight and the next day and the next.

Next Tuesday morning there will be an update to see who is winning.

Ceasing Ramble.

Update: 1 hr and 400 calories and I'm the victor! - - It was a tough battle and the treadmill almost won, but show tunes overpowered!

Scary Adult Things Part II

Today I got the notice that my Roth IRA funds transfer has been completed.

Called the new company I chose through cross referencing books and articles on finances and they were genuinely nice and answering my questions as a new customer.

So that hurdle is over and I set up the automatic deduction from my paycheck for a chunk to be placed into the Roth IRA. This may elate some of my friends who I called up and told them that they are secondary beneficiaries to my account.

Although, I'm still not sure if Candra knows she's on there. Surprise Candra if I and my family dies you get some moolah!

It was interesting to see the names that popped in my head about who I thought meant enough to me as a friend that I would want to help them financially if I could. I know that it's because they are the three that have helped me the most. Thank you ladies. You mean the world to me... mostly in cooked meals, crashing somewhere when I need to, and dealing with me. That last one is a biggie.

The other 'wow' moment was seeing that the bank savings account I have (which has an average daily balance over that of the online savings account) scraped up a mere penny in interest. And the online savings account... it brought in 1.17. So that was encouraging that I made a good decision there.

Otherwise I am still preaching finances to all the women in my office and we've all been talking about money, how we handle money, and how it's such a taboo among most women. So I guess when people ask what I did over my summer vacation and I reply nothing. It's really that I started to take more notice in my need to be responsible for myself fiscally.

It's still scary in being an adult, but something I'm proud that I'm stepping up to.

Now to get a ton of cats and be that crazy old cat lady.

One of these days!

Ceasing Ramble.

Hermione Granger and the...

Recently I've been re-visiting the Harry Potter book series as I picked up the last book on cd from the university library for a trip up to Minnesota that was, as always, refreshing.

As I was talking with Beth about the things I had forgotten since I read the book I said that the trivial (or huge) thing I forgot was merely because I had been reading a different series of books with the main character of Hermione Granger.

This then put me on a tizzy of re-naming the books off of things that seemed most appropriate at the time on the phone:

Hermione Granger and the Logical Conclusion

Hermione Granger and the Polyjuice Potion

Hermione Granger and the Time Turner

Hermione Granger and the S.P.E.W. Affair

Hermione Granger and the Order of the Phoenix (this I just couldn't see changing)

Hermione Granger and the Potions Rival

Hermione Granger and the Perfect Accessory

Granted... I think they all could really be called Hermione Granger and Hogwarts, A History.

Ah, to have seen the books from her perspective.

Ceasing Ramble.

Scary Adult Things

I opened another savings account tonight.

I was reading my finance book (it has a five month plan and things you should do and it's directed towards women) and then I saw it, the words I knew, but for some reason couldn't make myself really hear:

A checking account is only for the monthly bills it is not to save money in at any point, even if your checking account is interest bearing with a little research you can find a savings account that has better interest and no monthly fee.

Because savings are for emergencies.

Your checking account is not for spur of the moment spending.

So I have now: A checking account, a bank savings account for my sanity, a purely online savings account with high interest bearing for the bulk of the 'under budget' money, and a CD that will mature in October.

I'm scarily becoming more and more adult, but that passage in the book made me get up out of bed to see how much was in my checking that I don't need for monthly bills and a spending allowance for the month. I was amazed at how much I was able to put in the new online savings account (and of course still kept an amount in the checking for my sanity for this trial month).

I may not be able to 'afford' shiny things right now when I'm building up my emergency funds, but it is nice to see that I might actually be able to do the big life changes that I was hoping for in July.

That life change isn't actually a cruise around the world. That... will be later.

Ceasing Ramble.

It's all Kenny's Fault

I've been meaning to write about my trip to San Francisco to visit Bryce, but apparently I'm lazier than I had originally thought.

This summer I was pretty sure I would not be going on any trips until Bryce waved a voucher for Southwest around in a movement comparatively like that of a snake charmer. So I snapped at the opportunity to visit him and take in some Bay area sites.

My first surprise is that Southwest Airlines is better than I remember. I felt very much at home on each of my flights. The attendants definitely can make long or short flights countless times better by having the humor that those I encountered had.

I will say that the overload of the Las Vegas airport was almost too much for me. I walked off the plane to the sound of a casino and was greeted with machine after machine. The sparkling lights of wonder made me quite glad I did not bring cash with me or Bryce might never have seen me actually arrive at the San Jose airport.

The eats at the airport were not too exciting, but I was smacked on the head by the audacity of Burger King jacking the prices to those who were trapped in the flashy casino of an airport.

Arriving in California I fell into C's car and whined about anything from sleepiness to children being miscreants of society. Getting to Bryce's apartment I fell onto the couch and tried to keep small talk, but really felt vaguely awake, an almost zombie-like state, until I begged to go to sleep.

The next day was the intrepid use of almost every possible form of transportation that the Bay area has to offer. We walked, we Caltrained, we BART'ed, we bussed, and bussed and BART'ed and Caltrained some more. It was not until later that we realized how much we had in fact walked while strolling through the Haight/Ashbury district of San Francisco where we encountered:

1. A record store with too many things for me to look at ADHD kicked in full-time.
2. People who thought they were hippies, but were not quite hippies (they did have amusing signs though).
3. Some yummy Indian food, although not the Best of India.
4. A nice bookstore and a cluttered bookstore with a very opinionated co-owner. She went off on a poor potential customer about why they don't carry LGBT books. She focused on how LGBT books are only erotica (she's wrong about that) and then segued into why they also do not carry Lolita. I was so close to yelling at her that we had to leave. I mean she could have then talked about video games leading to violence.
5. A group of friends who couldn't find the right amount of money for the bus they were waiting for, but smelled like they belonged on Haight/Ashbury forever. Luckily the bus ride was free due to the need to enter from the back. Lovely.

During the evening we went to the Giants game and I bought a stocking cap as I was cold (already). This was also the rebirth of the Crazy Crab this character is so fascinating that I acquired two bobbleheads of him. He filled Bryce and I with much glee.

As we left the game because I was a) cold and b) the Giants were losing to the Brewers with their newly acquired, at that time, pitcher C.C. Sabathia. We got to the train and plunked down into a seat. It was in the next thirty minutes that we realized that everything that could ever be and ever shall be faulted to someone is Kenny Lewis' fault.

Kenny, if you ever find this... you need better friends.

Poor, poor Kenny, but yet it was fantastically funny to yell at him when the lights went out and when they came back on and during the rest of the weekend.

Then came Saturday. Bryce and I were supposed to get up and walk to the music festival and then catch Batman. It was on this day we realized that our legs hurt and we were not looking forward to walking "two miles" these two miles are actually about three and a half miles.

We finally set off so I could see Mates of State and after almost breaking down into a puddle of whiny mess we got to the festival. I was especially pleased with The Whigs. Very nice set. It was nice to lay out and listen to live music.

Then came Batman. This may deserve it's whole own blog.

The best part of the movie is that C came to see it with us and drove us home. I told her as I fell into the car that I would have curled up in a ball and cried if we had to walk the "two miles" back to Bryce's place. She felt used... where really appreciated is the best adjective.. possibly praised.

Sunday we were in pain, legs hated us, some Rockband was meagerly played on the Wii. We then attended the San Jose Giants the A league team of the SF Giants and it was pretty fun and nice. We did encounter:
1. The absence of electricity so no Churro Man. No scoreboard (instead people stood out on the warning track toward the foul line holding the pitching count on large pieces of cardboard). No well cooked any-food.
2. A non-plussed teenage girl reading Oh My Goth! and texting inside the book as to hide it from her family. There was another to our left doing the same thing, but I didn't catch her book title.
3. A boy who should be the soprano of the Vienna Boy's Choir. His scream was what a sci-fi superhero's debilitating superpower could be based on.
4. St. Paul Saints fans who liked my hat.
5. A young toddler who enjoyed holding onto my arm like she knew me. She did not, in fact, know me.

So visiting Bryce was fun and after I typed that out I guess we did do things besides hurt our legs horribly. There were good breakfasts, jokes about how I talk like an old man when commenting on Sara Ramierz, and lots of indecisiveness.

You can always count on me for being complacent.

Ceasing Ramble.

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog Pt. 1

I love almost everything that Joss Whedon influences or touches. And the new lovely to grace the web is that of a musical blog that was penned and performed during the WGA strike. I impolre you to click on this lovely graphic and take a look what reduces me to giggles and another way to unabashedly love Neil Patrick Harris.

Also, I'm quite happy that Nathan Fillion is still a ham and a half, with possible hamhock thrown in...

And that my favorite potential has a darling singing voice, oh Vi, how underused I felt you were in that final season, she of the caps.

So go, shoo, watch some 13 plus minutes of goodness and then download it from iTunes and help give the studios a nice show of what creative awesomeness with a touch of freedom can do.

Long live the internets!



Ceasing Ramble.

Long Weekend

Over a long weekend, that started with my mother going through a 'simple procedure' that some might call brain surgery, I lamented about how I rarely write anymore and that I am a sometimes funny individual.

My friend (Nikki*) told me I needed to blog again.

This is a continued failed endeavor as my blogging nature is usually disturbed by something shiny, a noise in the room, or the ever sneakily present life (that is somehow boring and active at the same time).

Conundrum.

So I deleted my old blog, am thinking about deleting some other far forgotten profiles on 'social networking sites', that really are becoming some odd popularity game, but sadly a good way to keep track of my brother.

I also would like to state that while I try to spell correctly there will be abundant misuse of commas, ellipses... and the various tidbits used for proper sentence structure. Grammar as much as I try is not a friend of mine, but a long distant relative that shows up to scoff at the thought that a colon belongs where I put it.

"Silly niece, semi-colons are for adult-like people who paid attention in linguistics courses."

I'm not promising anything as entertaining as my friends, but now with a few more life experiences under my belt and hopefully the ability to be somewhat candid I'll be as entertaining as I like to think I am in the dark, dank, dampness of night when no one is looking or listening. At this time of evening I read aloud to myself in accents I pretend are correct.

I might also have a penchant for long sentences that try to go somewhere, but are destined for failure.

*Used with newly acquired permission.

Ceasing Ramble.