Life Lesson #187: I Am One of THOSE People

It snowed again today.  I know it's early yet, but I had my heart set on no more snow - move along now, let's just get right into the warming and the melting and soon the rebirth and the growing.  But it snowed again today.  The reality is that it'll probably snow at least once or twice more before it's safe to assume that Spring is underway.

Between now and then, we have to live with people as a whole who should be absolutely *fabulous* at driving on slick, wet, snowy, icy roads.  But somehow, from one snowfall to the next, some of us seem to forget that our roads are slick and some places have deep ruts; that 4-wheel drive is great for helping you go, but not so great for helping you stop suddenly or avoid the car in front of you that's braking; that sometimes impatience can cost you more time and money than just accepting that you're going to be a late (for me, later than normal).

There were at least two cars in the ditch, and one banged up and rolled on its side as I was driving in to work today.  By the time I was passing, the people were already gone - just the tow trucks and police rerouting traffic.  And the paraphernalia of someone's life strewn along the ground where it had fallen out of the busted up window.  I hope they were wearing seatbelts.  I hope that any bodily harm was minimal.

Traffic was crawling by - as is usual at the scene of an accident.  And I have to admit that I was fine with the slow speed.  I'm almost ashamed to admit this, but I was glad of the slowness because it gave me a chance to examine the scene before driving by.  This same scenario happened to me earlier this winter - stuck in slow-moving traffic for someone who was in some kind of hurry and wasn't driving for the road conditions - only it was on my way home and it was just before my highway exit.  I decided, as I was creeping along with the rest of the folks stuck on the road, that if the accident was far enough down I was going to skip my exit and go to the next one.  Just so I could drive by the wreck and see what happened.  Extra time on the road, extra miles before I get home, just to see someone else's disaster.

Turns out, I am one of those people.  A rubber-necker, a gawker, a curiosity freak.  The term schadenfreude (thanks to the musical Avenue Q) comes to mind.  It means satisfaction at the misfortune of others.  Now, I wouldn't go so far as to say that I was happy that someone wrecked... but I was glad that it wasn't me - a little comforted that I'd dodged the bullet this time.  Like it's some bizarre game of Russian roulette that everyone plays and I just know that my turn is coming, but - oh, sweet relief! - it's not today.  Today the tragedy is for someone else, as I drive by and take in as many details as I can (while not rear-ending the car in front of me).

Life Lesson #514: Silk Sheets Aren't All *That*

When Greg brought home our first set of silk sheets, I was enamored.  But somehow, my reality doesn't come close to matching the perception of what I think silk sheets should be.  When I contemplate silk sheets, I immediately envision a scene from the movie The Holiday (a cute, if unrealistic, romantic comedy with Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet, Jude Law, and Jack Black).  The image I see is where Kate Winslet's character has come from London to a mansion in LA and she's enjoying sleeping in an oversize bed with puffy blankets, loads and loads of pillows, and silk sheets.  It's the ultimate in decadence and pampering, the epitome of a life of leisure.  Who wouldn't want something like that?  I want something like that.

My reality is that I'm probably too plebian for silk sheets.  They seem a lot like pedicures to me.  On the surface, pedis are a relaxing treat to pamper myself.  The more significant reason for such a treat is that I have calloused feet.  I do not have smooth, silky, soft, pampered feet.  For a couple hours every 5-6 weeks, I get a soak and scrub finished with a pretty polish.  The intervening 35 to 42 days my feet are working-class marvels (that are entirely under appreciated).  And how does this apply to silk sheets, you might ask?  In more ways than one.

With silk sheets, it doesn't matter that I'm fresh from a pedicure.  My scaly, tough soles catch the fabric.  My feet will apparently never be soft enough or callous-free enough to avoid snagging the sheets.  So instead of sliding smoothly between them, I stutter and have to free my animal-hide soles from the clingy sheets.  I can tell you from experience that after a while, silk sheets tend to ball up where they've been snagging on tough soles.  And the balled-up portion detracts from my perception of how things should be (and it's less comfortable, to boot).

In addition, I'm not one to make the bed every day.  If you're lucky, I pull the blankets up to the pillows so everything's kinda straight.  Knowing that, it shouldn't bother me that the blankets slide off the bed at random times.  Sometimes it's the middle of the night and I wake up freezing, and sometimes we get home and they've gone from on the bed to somewhere beside it.  (I blame the cats and their monkey-business for that.  If they wouldn't horse around so much, they wouldn't've created the blanket avalanche caused by the unstableness of slickery sheets.) 

So now I've got silk sheets that are pill-y, I wake up cold in the middle of the night because my blankets are off the end of the bed, and I have the distasteful realization that I'm not a pampered princess (nor will I likely *ever* have the leisurely lifestyle that includes afternoon tennis - I don't even play tennis - country clubs, and martinis at 3 o'clock - if it's an appletini, otherwise I'd better stick to fruity beer).  Not really the happily-ever-after that I've worked silk sheets up to be.

I much prefer sateen.  Smooth and rich, 800 thread count, sleek and lustrous.  My blue-collar feet haven't snagged on them yet, and it's so... luxurious... especially with freshly shaved and lotioned legs...  Good thing my real sheets are just about done in the laundry!

Life Lesson #247: It's All About Perspective

Is the glass half empty, or half full?  This is a question often asked to denote perspective.  If you answer half empty, the indication is negative - no cloud has a silver lining, doom and gloom are impending (if they haven't already arrived).  If your glass is half full, you apparently live in a bed of roses, wear rose colored glasses, find the silver lining in every cloud, and skip to work with a song on your lips.

If we apply this theory to food-related items, there are several foods that are on the fence.  My personal outlook determines whether or not I deem these foods healthy.  For example: Cheese.  Full of fat, but has protein and calcium.  And it tastes good.  Ice cream.  Full of fat and sugar, but also has calcium.  Chocolate.  An under-appreciated vegetable (the bean family) that provides many feel-good benefits when ingested.  (I just took a break from writing this blog entry to enjoy a lovely, fudgy, chocolate chip infused brownie.  Ahhh, sweet nectar!) And Bacon.  A good source of protein and energy, but oft lamented for it's high fat content.  But bacon is good with everything.  Crumble bacon in a salad; bacon and eggs; bacon and broccoli: BLT sammiches; the list goes on and on.

A while ago, I started thinking about adding bacon to my cookies.  An irregular combination to be sure, but it has potential.  The salty-sweet combination has always been a favorite of mine (chocolate covered pretzels come to mind) and bacon tastes good with everything.  It can't be too terrible, and might be fairly tasty.

A potluck at work cinched the deal.  What better arena to debut the new flavor?  I made three other flavors, just in case the bacon cookies didn't turn out, or there were people that aren't as fond of bacon as I am.  (Like dragons and unicorns, these people are mythical, but I also wanted options for the timid souls who wouldn't have courage enough to step out of the norm.)

These cookies are almost a health food.  Vegetables (the cocoa bean) with feel-good properties, TWO protein sources (eggs and bacon), dairy (butter has calcium, right?), and grain (what little nutrients there are from the unbleached flour).  How can I go wrong with a combination like that?  Of course, I made Greg try them first (since I'm one of those timid souls that often lacks courage) - and since he didn't die and even came back for more, I gave in and had one.  It's my new favorite cookie flavor - I suppose in part because of the odd looks that I get when people ask what flavor they are, but also because they are tasty!! I made my second batch of them this weekend for a friend's birthday party.  I believe the term is unqualified success.  Or something along those lines.

I choose to see my bacon glass half full of the yummy goodness that embodies bacon.  And I'll have a cookie to go with that!

Life Lesson #354: Read the Signs

Do you ever play games on the way in to work to determine whether or not it's going to be a good day?  I mean, as if having to get out of bed doesn't start it out wrong to begin with.  Then sleeping too late, rushing to get ready, trying not to get too sweaty after getting out of the shower, cleaning around the eyes from the mascara that didn't make it to the lashes (I'm not a big fan of the microfiber brushes they have now)...  running out of coffee, cold water for the shower, and getting your hair caught in the drawer pull as you're rising from putting down food for the cats...

On my normal route to work, there are nine stop lights.  On average, I hit six of those lights green.  And I do ratios as I'm getting closer.  One light red 1/1; one light green 1/2 - that's 50%; another green light - 2/3 for 66.67%; etc.  (Side note: it's amazing that when you only have a small pool of numbers, any detractor causes a significant drop in percentage that is never really recovered.  Makes me think those pop quizzes in school that counted for so much of a grade were really unfair.  Ten questions, I miss two and I'm already down to a B.  Five questions, miss one and it's a B; two and you've practically failed.)  The even and smaller numbers are easier to convert to percentages - it's a bit more difficult when I get to 7 or 9, but I have it all worked out before I get into the parking lot.

Like I said, most days I get six of nine (2/3 or 66.67%) green lights.  There are some days that I'm luckier and get 7 or 8 green lights.  On those days, I make sure to circle the parking lot, since I just *know* there's going to be a spot right up front for me.  And in more than 6 years of working at this location, there has only been ONE time when I made all nine lights green.  That was an amazing day.

On the other hand, there are days (like today) that only make 5/9 (55.55%) - and the few rare 4/9 days (44.44%).  If I'd been paying attention to the signs, I would've realized that I should just go home and crawl back in bed.

Life Lesson # 823: Prom Isn't Just for High School

Going to the annual Dinner / Dance for work reminds me a lot of getting ready for Prom.   My corporate "Prom" usually consists of dinner, a photographer, company business, then a band and dancing.  Lots of people buy new stuff and dress really fancy for this event; then there's some of us that spiff up a bit; and there's others that I've seen dress down (one year someone wore a pair of jeans to the event).  Just like way-back-when in high school.

Even my preparations for the event are similar.  And we're carpooling with friends - always more fun! - although they have to go a bit early, since I'm responsible for holding some tables for my division.  We'll still have a good time chatting while we're waiting for the festivities to commence.

Pre-Prom Preparations:

• Make sure the camera is charged - check
  
• Shave legs - check (not that anyone but me will know - and Greg, since he got a cold shower because I used up all the hot water (thanks for bringing me the shaving lotion, honey!))
• Apply smelly lotion - check (got to keep the newly bare legs moisturized so they don't turn scaly)
• Apply toenail polish - check (did this last weekend, when Stacy and I went for pedicures)
• Determine wardrobe - check (decided that I want to be comfortable, so I'm wearing slacks; went shopping this afternoon for a work-worthy, dressy top - no way am I going to spend a minor fortune on an outfit that I'll only wear once... I suppose in this, I'm a little different than I used to be)
• Hit the car wash - check (got to have a clean ride, and to make sure the back seats are cleaned out for our passengers)
  
• Wiggle into figure enhancing undergarments - check (made sure to use the restroom first, and have to remember to drink sparingly since this rigmarole has to happen every time the pants go up or down, and hair/makeup has to be done after since this is practically a workout on its own and I'm drenched in sweat by the time I'm done - next step should be "wipe the sweat off" - check)
  
• Have Greg pick top - check (brought home four, since I couldn't make up my mind at the store - fortunately they were all on sale, and they're all suitable for wearing to work - except maybe that one that's a little low-cut...  I'm not wearing that tonight, since my goal is to be dressed well *and* as comfortable as I can be - besides, Greg picked the black one)
• Finishing touches - check (pick out jewelry; makeup is light this year: mascara and lip gloss - that's what I do for the rest of the year and I'm not confident that one night a year I can do more without looking like a clown, so I'll leave it at that.  Some year I'll get organized enough to have a pamper morning that includes someone that does makeup and hair, then get dressed and head out.)
• Shoes, coat, drivers license and cash (or cash equivalent) - check
• Ready to go!
  

Post-Prom Pictures:

We had a nice time.  Food and company were good.  Unfortunately, because it was so dark in the room the best pictures aren't of the people, but the decorations.  Oh well.  There's always Prom next year!

Life Lesson #76: How to Care for Your Monster

Things are crazy around here. I suppose they're normally crazy, but it seems it's even more so right now. I'm spending long hours at work for a large project that's under my care. It should be done before Christmas, but that's still seven weeks away. So Greg has to put up with me being late getting home (a couple nights so far it's been after 10pm), sometimes working on weekends, and the remodel is going to eat up the rest of the free time.

My "down-time" normally consists of sleeping, reading, or playing on the computer - very low-key. On the flipside, Greg is normally enthused about being busy. And as long as it's not work, it seems that the other stuff gives him enough of an outlet that he's recharged and ready come Monday morning. Whether it's remodeling, hiking, photo shoots, geocaching, or board meetings, it doesn't seem to matter. He can cram all those things into the after hours or weekend time (sometimes all in one week), and be ready for the coming week. I, on the other hand, seem to need the opposite - to hole up by myself and focus on some kind of mental escape.

Remodeling doesn't really fall into any of my relaxation categories, and so doesn't allow me to recharge for the coming week. But I feel guilty leaving all that work to Greg, so I'll have to figure out a way to get it all done. I just have to last through Christmas, then one of the big projects is done (work), and I'll have more time to relax even with the remodel continuing.

Greg has been a champ so far. He watched me melt down today. Slowly at first, and then faster & faster until I was just a red, teary-eyed monster with fuzzy hair. Then he helped me put myself back together so I have a semblance of sanity. I think I'll have to get him this book:

(I found the book cover image and a cool write-up here. Didn't realize the author of the book - Norman Bridwell - also wrote the series for Clifford the Big Red Dog.)

Putting me back together apparently includes lots of hugs; a shoulder to cry on; tissues to blow my nose; a nap; and some chocolate peanutbutter ice cream with a brownie. I think I will be ready for Monday... =)