tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52300740465193731662024-03-12T19:43:56.493-07:00Update...Marthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-50582278561330900192009-02-13T11:37:00.000-08:002009-02-13T11:39:15.606-08:00Update... Feb 13, 2009Holy Guacamole... it has been a long time!!!! There is so much going on and so much to catch up on, but really I just want to do my V-day rant. Who's with me?<br /><br /><br />Those who know me, and those who don't and have just read the stuff on this blog... know that I do NOT... I repeat, NOT like Valentine's Day. I really do believe that it is just so commercialized, more than Christmas, more than Mother's Day, more than Father's Day, more than all of the Barack Obama comemorative collectible crap that they are selling on TV! Do I really need a plate that has Barack's picture on it, telling me that he's president? And I can get this plate, complete with stand, that is numbered and collectible for only $49.95!!! Or two easy payments of $19.95 plus shipping and handling (of course).<br /><br />By the why you may have noticed, that I called him simply "Barack" in this last little ditty... we are on a first name basis. You spend a trillion dollars of my money, and I get to call you by first name. That's right George... it goes for you too! I am going to start shopping exclusively in the Prestonwood area, and if I run into George or Laura, I am going to call them by first name and ask them how my money is doing! Back to back trillion dollar spending... and the economy still sucks. It is the definition of idiocy... keep doing the same thing expecting a different result. We keep throwing a trillion at a time at our problems thinking... "Now this trillion is make a difference! I know there are nay-sayers out there, but really I know the last trillion didn’t work, but this one will. Once we throw this trillion into the economy Main Street America will have money flowin' down it like the Mississippi!". Whoa, I guess the only thing today that can really get me fired up more than Valentine's Day is the economy... so let's get back to Valentine's day, before steam starts coming out of my ears.<br /><br /><br />Over the past three decades that I have been around I have seen a lot of Valentine’s day cheer and misery. I have been the little girl that came to school with a basket full of cards ready to proudly hand them out, only to notice that everyone else brought cards AND candy. It isn’t until now that I really realize what had gone one. I had spent an entire evening filling out “To:” and “From:” and valentine’s for all the kids in my class, I had sacrificed going outside to play, having a second helping of dinner, and not watching the latest episode of “Moonlighting” in order to be able to GIVE something to all of my classmates, and then feeling ashamed b/c what I had to offer wasn’t as good as what everyone else had. The crazy part is that I actually felt bad because I didn’t have the gold, frankincense and myrrh… I was the little drummer boy, when you come from a family of eight kids (unless you’re the favorite) you are always the little drummer boy. But I actually felt badly about it… what?!?!? I should have grabbed the lollipop that I had glued to my valentine and said “Tell your mom ‘thanks’ and that for future notice Cherry is my favorite flavor”. Ugh! Commercialization.<br /><br />Now I have participated in this tradition… last year I broke down. I had been dating Chris about six months in January. I had come back in town from being Canada for work, we were sitting on the couch at my house. I was eating my first bite of Taco Bueno, and when you have been in Canada… that first bite of Taco Bueno is like getting into bed with fresh clean sheets… it is the best of the familiar! Chris looked at me and said, “Valentine’s Day is about a month a way, we should plan something!” His big blue eyes were flashing, he looked completely excited and thrilled at the notion. And so what did I say in return as I looked it him, his heart swelling with excitement! I said, in a pretty flat tone, “I don’t do Valentine’s Day, we aren’t doing anything.” Then I shoved another of my mexi-dips and chips in my mouth and turned back to the TV. Yep, that happened. I looked at him a moment or two later (at my next bite, God those chips are good, I could go for some right now) and he looked deflated. He looked almost sad, he looked like the little boy that had brought a puppy home, and then puppy loved him, the puppy was playing with him, the puppy was licking his face, and the puppy loved him. I took the puppy… the puppy was gone and Chris was suffering the loss of the puppy, and the idea that his valentine didn’t do Valentine’s Day!<br /><br />I felt bad about it. Really bad. Bad enough that the next day, I decided to do something.<br /><br />I had a great time with it last year, I loved planning it out and the execution of it (thanks to Elizabeth) was flawless. So, as you can see… I can be romantic, but in these economic times I would rather do it on my own terms. Like, when I get paid or when a bonus check comes in or when Ed McMahon comes over with a check the size of my car from the Publisher’s Clearing House! I think having a day like Valentine’s day isn’t necessary… you should be romantic in your own way, on your own time, on your own agenda, because after alll… it’s on your own dime!!!!<br /><br />Why should you go to Jarod (The Gallery of Fine Jewelry) isn’t there a credit crisis going on? What on earth would your beloved do with a Vermont Teddy Bear? And since when did Vermont become the teddy bear capitol of USA? If Chris bought me a teddy bear, I would really wonder about his opinion of me.<br /><br />Here is the alternative… I like the idea of if we are going to do this, then let’s pump some money back into the economy. Let’s have people start spending some money. My suggestion? Fast food gift cards!!! Now, personally… I would want Taco Bueno! Did you hear that Chris? Taco. Bueno.<br /><br />Why fast food gift cards, because most fast food establishments employ high school age kids and young adults. You pay them a salary… it gets immediately spend on iPods, cool clothes, gas, other fast food, cheap restaurants, etc. The money they get paid immediately goes back into the economy. They spend people!!! So, my spending with them creates more spending. Where if you spend money on a diamond bracelet, that guy is most likely going to take his profit right now and save it! He isn’t even going to be putting into his 401K, people aren’t doing that right now. The only difference between my 401K balance and my nine year old niece’s savings account balance, is that her balance will increase with every deposit!!! That kid looks like a genius!<br /><br />Take it from me… let’s give the gift of food and stimulate the economy!<br /><br />Peace, love, and mexi-dips and chips!<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-13464096710753147812008-04-21T11:01:00.000-07:002008-04-21T11:02:14.547-07:00Update... Apr 21, 2008Friends, Romans, and even specimens… lend me your time!<br /><br />It has been a LONG time since I have put out an “update…” and there is so much to tell! So much to impart and so little time. So, in order to get this all out… let’s do it all in order. It is strange to relive a section of your life… generally mine is flashing before my eyes… but right now, let’s recap the last nearly three months. I will be breaking a hard and fast rule of mine in order to do this. As many of you know I generally do NOT disclose my dating life… I don’t mind disclosing my friend’s dating lives, but generally I do not disclose mine, and trust me… there has been looney-ness to disclose, but I always have thought better of it, and never wanted someone to be on a date with me and wonder whether or not something they said, or did, or ate, or burped, or blundered would end up on the internet…. However, I do have clearance to post all of the following. So let’s take the Nestea Plunge into the beginning of my 2008…<br /><br />I have been doing a lot of work out of the country… in a suburb of the USA, Canada. It is a little weird to go across the boarder and (on a clear day) be able to see Detroit, or at least the smog cloud the envelopes Detroit. I think on one magical day, I was able to smell Detriot. You may have noticed that during this time period that my yearly rant on Valentine’s Day was completely absent! I didn’t get to do it! I didn’t have time, work had become my one and only path to tread… but I will go ahead and tell you what this year’s little day brought for me. I have a boyfriend, his name is Chris… one little note, he is simply spectacular, but enough of all of that, I do think V-day is a crock, that hasn’t changed. I think it is simply a day filled with chores. We haven’t added a holiday to the calendar, a holiday in which you can rest and relax and eat and watch football… we added a holiday filled with chores, and you don’t get the day off of work to do them! So this year, I did the unthinkable… the unimaginable… I dove into V-day without my usual hatred and resentment of this day… I dove into V-day with a red bikini on, ready to swim for the roses! So, a couple of weeks before V-day hit I told Chris that we weren’t going to celebrate, I think my exact words were “What for?” and that we were going to a play on February 16th and we would call that Valentine’s Day and be done. Lucky for me, Chris is sweet, kind, and relentlessly gullible. So, over the next two weeks I plot and I plan. I elicited aide from two of his co-workers… the team was now in place. This was a full scale mission and we had to jump through several hoops to pull it off… including me “borrowing” his car for a day of shopping with Ann! The morning comes and I call his house at 6am, and the phone rings and rings… no answer. Now I am a little panicked b/c my plot starts here… if he already went out for a run or something that would throw the schedule off!!! Where is this man?!?! I call again… ring… ring… ring… no answer. Now, I am more panicked and I try the cell phone… ring… ring… “sh-heeelllo” Whoa! He sounds dead tired… good sign. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” I squeal, “Happy Valentine’s Day, are you going to work?”… “Yes, I am, can you go out and check the glove box of your car?” Wouldn’t you think if someone asked you to go check the glove box of your car, that you would do that… pretty readily without much to say. Not Chris, “Why? What’s in there?” Now I try to be playful, “Just go check.” I am smiling on the other end of the phone trying to sound coy and playful… when I really just want to say, “Look buster, get out of bed and check your car”. He asks again, “What’s in there”. This time I go for the slam dunk, “It’s a snake, you need to go let him out”. There was a red envelope in the car asking him to go to his nearby Chic-Fil-A for breakfast… which had already been paid for and was waiting for him. There was a gift card left for him too, lovingly wrapped in a little blue box. He is off to work, where at his 11am at the beginning of meeting another red envelope appeared and he had to read the contents to the others in the meeting… needless to say there were people at the office calling him “Sweet Pea” for a few days. The card told him to head out for lunch, where it was paid for and another gift card was there… lovingly wrapped in a little blue box. Now, I wish I could say all of this was pleasant… I mean my phone rang a few times asking “Is there anything else?!?!?! Singing clowns!?!?!? Anything coming my way?” But I would always deny it saying nothing else was coming. He got a cookie bouquet delivered to him, and finally he met me for dinner where he got his actual gift. It was a pretty fabulous little v-day. If I do say so myself. Now, I am not advocating V-day… and for the record the only reason I did this, the only reason I decided to follow the lemmings off of the cliff was, well, because I really wanted him to have a great V-day. <br /><br />After that life calmed down and it was back to the grind until the end of the month, and on leap day… I left for an 18 day vacation. Now, my vacation starts by meeting my Mom and my Auntie in Miami, South Beach to be exact. I get to the hotel, which took me forever… you need to catch a shuttle that only comes once every two hours to the airport and then it takes the shuttle another 45mins to get to South Beach and then ultimately your hotel. I finally get to the hotel, nearly three hours after getting into Florida (this is after one of my bags didn’t make it on the plane), and I have to take the stairs to my room there are no elevators. Now, my mother tells me that all of the hotels and buildings in South Beach are all original art deco designs from the 1930’s. She is completely pleased with herself to know such trivia. Let me write that one down for the next time I am on Jeopardy. No wonder these people are thin, this is a do-it-yourself kind of place. You don’t need the South Beach Diet, just stay in a South Beach Hotel… you drag your 50+ pound suitcase up and down those stairs… you will be Jane Fonda by the end of the week. I get into the room, with my enormous suitcase, I enter the room and before taking a step or two I am already at the back of the room. This room is small, it made the state room on the ship look big. Thank God they invented those TV’s that hang on the wall… b/c if there had been a TV on the floor there wouldn’t have been enough room for the bed to fit. I am exhausted, so I immediately grab my toothbrush and toothpaste and head through a tiny door in the wall, into the most ENORMOUS bathroom I have been in at that point. The bathroom was the same size as the room itself without having furniture in it to crowd it up. I could have done jumping jacks in this bathroom without fear of hitting anything. It had a HUGE mirror on the wall, that ran the length and width of the wall… I guess to make the room look bigger. At one point I contemplated moving my bed in there so that I would have a little more room and privacy, but it would be awkward in the middle of the night to hear the toilet flush that close to me. So, I left well enough alone. The walls are paper thin, which makes me feel sorry for the people sleeping next to us. My mother and my auntie do not snore, they just breathe REALLY, REALLY loudly when they sleep. It was like having Darth Vader in the room… my hair would be sucked toward them on inhale and violently blown behind me on exhale, if only they had been able to off-set each other… one breathing in while the other was breathing out… they would have counter acted the wind tunnel effects that they were producing in the room! There were teenagers trying to party next door and they couldn’t hear themselves count their keg stands the breathing was so loud!!! We got through the night and the next morning, after my bag showed up in the nick-of-time we got on the ship… bound for Europe.<br /><br />We had six days at sea, and five of those were great! I got to workout two times a day, I got to read, I got to relax, I got what I was looking for… but there was one day I got more than I bargained for. I woke up one day to find that the gentle rocking that we had been accustomed to was now replaced by an angry, unforgiving, unrelenting, swelling mess of a sea. The waves were 18 feet… that was what was reported anyway, I think they were 20 footers. People were on the sixth deck playing cards and had the waves splash against the window!!! And where was I you might ask? Was I up at the helm, like Gilligan trying to grab hold wheel? trying to right the ship? trying to make sure that Minnow wouldn’t be lost? Nope! I was down in my stateroom, on my bunk bed, fighting to keep my breakfast down… it took all day and most of that night to keep my breakfast down and a couple of diet cokes. It was not a fun day. We finally made it to land… we hit Europe with a bang in the Azores. The Azores are beautiful, but if you want real action… get your butt to Gibraltar! Gibraltar is steeped in WWII history, and for a WWII nut… it is the place to be. I am such a nut. I loved it, there were complete caves dug out of the rock of Gibraltar, entire highway systems, four hospitals were inside the rock, along with enough housing to maintain 3000 of the allied forces for over 2 years! We were up on the rock when we came across one of the five packs of monkeys that live on the rock. This pack was big… it was called “The Queen’s Pack” and each one of these packs has an alpha male… and this pack was no exception… the alpha male of this pack looked like a beached walrus. He was big! And he didn’t seem to have the most pleasant disposition. We get off of the bus to have a look at these free roaming vertebrates, as we are leaving the bus our tour guides says, “Do NOT feed the monkeys… they do not know when you are done and can get aggressive” What is the first thing… the first thing that people do? You got it, feed the monkeys. It is like all of these people turned into my nieces and nephews. My nieces and nephews hear what you say, but it doesn’t sink in… they can repeat verbatim what you said, recite it word for word, but for the life of them they cannot act upon what you have said. It is weird. These adults go out and feed these monkeys, and the monkeys are loving it! They are all over these people, they are taking pictures and smiling happily as they devour Bugles, Nuts, and some guy had a Snickers on him… he was popular! I have to admit I really did keep my distance from the monkeys… I was a little apprehensive, and I was not carrying any bananas or a stun gun to protect myself. So, my mom and I wonder over to a little railing to look over the cliffs at the sea, the airport, etc. I am happily standing next to my mother, when my peripheral vision starts picking up some sort of odd movement, by the time it registers and I slightly turn my head to see this HUGE monkey head coming straight for me!!! All of the sudden with a heavy thud, this animal lands on my shoulder!!! He is all over me, and I immediately respond. They say that you have a “fight or flight” tendency… mine is FLIGHT! I started screaming like a banshee and start running as fast as a could… it worked! The monkey bounded off of my shoulder and was heading straight for my mother!!! My mother weaves like Mohammad Ali and the monkey misses her and hits the guy behind her, she is spry for 72… she moved like a 60 year old!!! That was a harrowing experience, and I immediately get back on the bus to collect myself. <br /><br />The rest of the ports flew by after that… I mean once you been to “Planet of the Apes” everything else is just another gift shop. We finally make it Barcelona, and get into a cab at the port to go to our hotel room that my sister had booked for us. We show the reservation to the cab driver who doesn’t speak English… which is OK, because very few people spoke English… in fact the main language in Barcelona is not even Spanish… its Catalan, and that is very different from Spanish. So, the guy gets the reservation and seems to know where he is going… which is a good thing. We drive into downtown and we are gaping at the different buildings and all of the architecture. We keep driving, and I am noticing the meter going up and up and up, and we see the buildings are slowly getting less grand and shorter, finally I notice there are no more buildings and only homes, and then suddenly there are no homes and only cows… we are out in the country… I see a windmill go by… the meter is still going up… I start thinking, there is a possibly that I have handed over my life and my mom to what could be a Spanish, sorry Catalan, version of “Deliverance”. We keep driving, and finally he starts to exit the highway we are on, I am a little nervous, and then I see a sign pointing a “hotel”. It is our hotel!! We get out of the cab… and the tab was 50 euros ($80 US) that was a healthy cab ride. We go to check in and our bags wont make it into the narrow elevator all at once, we have to get them up there one at a time. We get out of the elevator and go down the hallway, which is also the balcony, to get into our room. You have to put the key card into the light slot in order to turn on the light and to keep it on… classy! My mom looks at me and says, “this is like a motel”… I am about to laugh, and say, “This IS a motel!!” The room consists of a queen size bed, two nightstands, a television with stand, and a cot that stands three inches off the ground… lovingly laid out for me, complete with burlap bed spread. Joy. The bathroom is yet again… ENORMOUS. Needless to say the price was good… not great but good… but any money we saved on hotel, was eaten up in cab rides, which generally ranged from 50 to 70 euros a day… to get to the airport was 70 Euros. It was hilarious! If time is money… you can tack on another 300 euros! Word to the wise, don’t let other people book your hotels.<br /><br />Since I have gotten back to Dallas, things have been good… even great… I have had a boob job and gotten engaged… but those will be on the next “update…” stay tuned.<br /><br />Peace, love, and killer monkeys,<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-40333834896704539052008-01-11T06:40:00.000-08:002008-01-16T11:53:27.017-08:00Update... Jan 11, 2008Happy New Year!! Yes boys and girls it is time to break out a new calendar and start enjoying another 365 days. I am so excited about 2008, and there are several reasons why! So, let’s get on with the “update…”<br /><br />For those of you who know me well, know that I don’t write about my “dating” life on this “update…”. In the words of Emily Post, “It just simply isn’t done.”. However, I don’t mind putting other people’s personal and private dating affairs and blunders out here for public scrutiny. It is all in good fun, and it gives people insight into “the summer of hot”, Russianbrides.com, letter-writer lunatics, and first date “I love yous”. I know that must seem like some sort of a breakdown in the system, but trust me I am sure that someone, somewhere, on some blog, has completely burned me in effigy and put my dating life out there… so you see, it really is the circle of life, or at least life on the web. So let me tell you a little tell you a true story about “the shiniest princess”.<br /><br />Once upon a time (December 22, 2007, to be exact) my old roommate from college boarded a plane. But let’s begin this tale a little bit before that, for emphasis. My friend Ann has been dating her boyfriend since December of last year, and it was “love-at-first-sight”. I am a cynic, so this was a tough train for me to jump on to. Frank is German, from Germany, and yes, he has an accent, and yes, he wears very European clothes, and yes, I asked if wasn’t just dating her in order to get a green card! What can I say, I’m direct. Anyway, a few months back he asked her if she wanted to go to Banff for Christmas! I have always wanted to go to Banff at Christmas, and she tells me this… and I turned green with envy. Like forest green. I was so happy for her, but damnit I wish that was me! I have a philosophy on traveling with the man that you are dating. Actually I seem to have a philosophy on nearly everything. The philosophy is that if your man asks you to go out of town, then he needs to plan it. I do not ever take it upon myself to plan these things, because if the woman plans the trip… the man isn’t in. And if he isn’t in… it wont be good.<br /><br />So, Frank starts planning this little Christmas getaway. He books the flights and hotel and pays for everything well in advance. He keeps booking and planning and he is scurrying around like Santa’s most productive, most thoughtful, and most amazing little elf. He tells Ann that this trip is eight days, two days of travel, six days of Banff, and he tells her that they will be skiing at least three of those days. A ski bunny vacation in Banff, yay! Ann has never been skiing before, and so he takes he tells her that he will book some ski lessons for her and that they can go out shopping and he will buy her some ski gear. Ok, now this is wear the “princess”/”pretty woman” starts… he takes her out and buys her the cutest little skiing outfit I have ever seen. She looked so chic, so pretty, and the smile plastered across her face really added to the outfit. Then he took her to Nordstroms and got her a new coat, so that when they went out in the evening in Banff she would be warm and stylish! Seriously, I have been dating people just as long as Ann has and have never even heard of such things. He books a trip and buys you new clothes to go on this trip!! Did anyone see “The Thomas Crown Affair”? That part where Pierce Brosnan takes Renee Russo to that island, and he has a whole closet full of clothes, that are just her size, completely stylish, and then takes her on that glider… it was JUST LIKE THAT!!!!<br /><br />She and Frank get on the plane and head to Banff. They land and spend the day getting acclimated to their new environment. The next day is the 23rd, Ann’s birthday!!! They go to her skiing class and Frank (an expert skier) is so patient with Ann. She had a good time skiing, she said it was “challenging”. Unless, you learn how to ski when you are three years old, it is going to be challenging. That night Frank had made reservations. Do you love all the planning? I do! Anyway, he had made reservations at a five star restaurant there, and they get dressed and head out. She described this dinner to me and it was so completely lavish and so tremendously decadent, complete with views mountain majesty. It was awesome. Then in the middle of dinner… he motions to the maitre d’ and this man who must have served kings and queens at some point brings over a box!!! Not just any box… a Cartier box. She opens it up… and there it is, the engagement ring she was hoping for. He asks her, “to be his wife” and of course she says, YES!!! Our princess is now the shiniest. The ring is amazing. It actually glows it is so sparkly. That box is enormous! It is actually heavy, I think the box alone weighs about five pounds. This is serious jewelry.<br /><br />The next day he had planned for them to go snow dog sledding! This man had literally planned their entire trip… I still cant get over it. Most guys would book a hotel and then be done, but no this guy went all the way. The whole nine yards. Bad part… he has a brother, but the brother lives in Germany! So if you’re single and moving to Germany sometime soon, call me. The weather has worked out and Frank calls to make sure that their helicopter is going to be available to take them to the site where they will meet the sled dog teams. That’s right… helicopter. If I ever ask someone to marry me, I am definitely gonna through a helicopter into the occasion, or maybe a glider, or an SST! They get into their helicopter and see Banff from a totally different perspective. They are zooming here and there, and from what I was told it was one of the highlights of the trip. They land a little bit away from where they are to start their trek with the dogs and everyone has come over to see them get out of this helicopter. Ann steps out and all of these people are taking her picture, they think she is someone famous!!! How often do you get your own paparazzi? It was awesome. They go snow dog sledding and it was great. They went skiing again the next day, and then Frank had booked an ice hike for them the next day! Everyday was something new and different and exciting. This was the vacation of a lifetime, and you thrown in the cool clothes and the engagement ring… it doesn’t get any better.<br /><br />They finally had to come home though. Cinderella had to turn in her slipper, but not the ring… so that makes up for it. The two of them have been absolutely on cloud nine since they got back, and I have to admit, so have I. It has been amazing to hear about this trip, and to sort of live a little through my friend. I didn’t get to go, but I got to hear about it and see the pics. Close enough. They don’t have a date set yet, but I am sure it will be a grand occasion… heck, Frank might even just plan it himself.<br /><br />That does it for me… hope you are enjoying 2008! I hope your 2007 was as good as our princess’s.<br /><br />Peace, love, and helicopters,<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-13449706385995505212007-12-20T12:02:00.000-08:002008-01-16T11:54:17.942-08:00Update... Dec 20, 2007Good morning, eh!<br /><br />Well, I am in Toronto… “my country away from my country”. It really has become like a second home to me now. I walk into the hotel and the people know me, I walk into the Tim Horton’s (the Starbucks equivalent in Canada) and they know me, I walk into Boston’s Pizza (we only eat dinner there or at the hotel) and they know me… by the way, if you are ever at the Boston’s in Mississauga ask for John, tell him Martha sent you and he will take care of you. I am really starting to know Canada. I know to stay clear of the Mexican food. It is ridiculously bad. The Italian food isn’t good, but isn’t bad… stay away from the tomato sauce dishes. My advice… eat at Wendy’s it tastes the same everywhere!<br /><br />This is the last “update…” of 2007! I can hardly believe that the year is coming to a close. I can hardly believe that 2008 it staring me in the face. I am excited for the new year, I am excited to see what it brings and where I go from here. 2007 has been a great year for me, it truly was the “Year of the Martha”. I had a lot of good things go on with my career (some bad, but who remembers those?) I have made some great new friends and even gotten closer with some current friends. I have made some amazing memories this year, many of them documented in the “update…”. I think that my favorite memory this year is the trip to New York for my sister’s birthday. I have been to New York many times, and I really love the city. But this trip was so different for me. I had never been to the Big Apple with anyone from my family, and let me tell you that was the ingredient that made that trip one of the best. I have to admit I love my mother, my sisters and my aunt, but more importantly I really like them as well. I like to be around them, I like all of the laughter and all of conversation. The trip was fabulous, and there are a few things I will never forget. I will never forget getting into a limousine to get from the airport to hotel and then back again… how Vegas were we? I will never forget how Mary Pat looked in her sparkly new diamond earrings or how she complained about not wanting to go to high tea and then loved it! I will never forget how iceberg cold it got on the top of the bus during the night tour. I will never forget the “wild card” meals. I will never forget the 813 times that my sisters and I had to stop and wait for my mom and aunt to catch up. I will never forget how the trip seemed to be literally charmed… I remember walking into Angelos and the place was packed, our reservations weren’t for 15 minutes and so we thought we would belly up to the bar, and we did only to find that that were exactly five seats at the bar, and it was like they were literally waiting for us. It was the highlight of my year and I cannot wait to see what happens next year. But let me share one last story to close out 2007.<br /><br />Now, the one thing that has been told to me by a few people that are close to me… is that they are careful what they say and do around me for fear that it might end up in an “Update…” and I have to admit I can understand the concern. I can understand it, but it doesn’t deter me in the least. I actually doesn’t really even enter my mind as I sit down to type.<br /><br />This last story isn’t about me. It is about my nephews… Mason and Mitchell to be specific. Mason and Mitchell live in the Phoenix area with my twin brother and his wife. They are eleven and eight respectively and are really coming into their own with their own ideas and own agendas. Unfortunately these two kids have not yet learned that communicating these ideas and agendas is really to their benefit as it is much as it is to those they live with. So, let me set the stage a bit. My brother works for Wendys as a district manager, in his own words this is the “hardest job in the company”. My sister-in-law Mendy has been promoted to manager of her group which makes the helmets that infants wear to correct skull formation problems. Mason and Mitchell both attend Montessori school that is located more than 45 minutes away from their house. They live in a two story house where all the bedrooms are upstairs, and where every morning is a race to get out the door.<br />A couple weeks ago my sister-in-law is getting ready to walk out the door, put the kids in the car, race them to their school, and then speed to work in order to start her day filled which had a “to-do” list that seemed endless. So, she grabs her purse, grabs her car keys, and the kids are parading out the back door into the garage. Mason stops and says “Mom, our Christmas dinner is tonight and I signed you up to bring stuff!” Mendy, a veteran at this sort of thing by now, calmly says “Ok, what do I need to bring?” Mason looks at his mother without missing a beat and says “Lasagna for 80”. It was amazing the matter-of-fact tone he used to drop this bombshell on his mother. This kid had never breathed a word of this to Mendy, she had no idea it was coming… and he what did he sign her up for? Not drinks… not chips and dips… not even dessert… but “lasagna for 80”. I am sure the words were still hanging in the air when she finally regained consciousness. She looked at her beloved firstborn and said “No way! Mason, first of all, I don’t even make lasagna! Second of all, I am leaving for work there is NO time to make LASAGNA for EIGHTY!! We are not doing this”. She takes the bull by the horns and calls the school to verify, and yes, Mason had signed her up for that. What was this kid thinking? She told the lady that her son had not informed her of this ahead of time and that she was not going to be able to whip up a steaming hot batch of lasagna for eighty before the dinner started. She told her “Look, I cannot bring lasagna so what else can I bring that I can pick up at the store”… the settled on something and catastrophe was averted. Now, the one thing you can take away from all of this is to go ahead and tell you kids every year when the school year starts, “if you are ever asked to contribute to a pot-luck party… remember, sign me up to bring the paper plates!”. You have to preempt those sort of things.<br /><br />Now you would think that the lesson was learned, that Mason would think from then on… gee, if I need my mom’s help on something I should tell her in advance. Oh no, not my nephew… he takes after his dad! This may be a boy thing, I am not sure. Last Monday or Tuesday (cant remember which) Mason wakes up and tells his mother “Oh my gosh! We have to leave early I need to go to Target!!!” Mendy, still a pro, calmly asks “What do you need to get at Target”. My nephew then proceeds to tell her that it is “secret Santa” day and that he needs to bring a ten dollar gift, and of course he doesn’t have one yet, and he needs it TOOOOO-DAY! So, Mendy puts her morning into overdrive. She tells Mitchell, Mason’s brother, that they need to leave early so he has to hustle. They are all racing through the house, oddly enough they looked like they were on one of those time-elapsed videos, you know everything is really choppy but moves ten times faster. Anyway the zoom out of the house and Mendy makes gets them all into Target in time for Mason to shop for his secret Santa gift. Mason is a slow shopper and he is doing his due diligence and trying to pick a ten dollar treasure that will be the most popular gift! Mitchell is standing by watching him shop, and getting more and more frustrated… finally he cant keep it in any longer. He looks at his brother and says “You are wasting MY time”. Mason is a little shocked and says “What?” Mitchell persists, “You’re wasting my time! This is my time and you are wasting it. I could be watching TV or eating my breakfast or just relaxing and you are wasting my time!” Mason, tries to get something out, and Mitchell cuts him off and says, “When we have to come here tomorrow to get MY gingerbread stuff for school, I don’t want to hear any complaining from you!” Mendy about falls over, “WHAT?!?!?! You need gingerbread house making supplies for tomorrow and you weren’t going to say anything? We are here!!! We are getting it now!” She marches this kid over to the baking aisle and gets the supplies. Can you believe that? He was going to wait until tomorrow to lay that one on his mom! I love this. The irony in that is just so amazingly thick, and these kids are just so incredibly funny.<br /><br />That does it for and for the year! Hope you all have a fantastic holiday season…<br /><br />Peace, love, and lasagna for 80!<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-82710803388264856142007-12-03T11:18:00.001-08:002007-12-03T11:34:10.324-08:00Update... Dec 3, 2007I am feeling very “Sound of Music” this morning… like I should be spinning around like a crazy person on a mountain top with my Julie Andrew’s chili bowl hair cut, smile carved deep into my face and singing wildly with my arms flailing in every direction.<br /><br />Bon Jour… Good day… Buenos dias… and Hello-oh! I’m sure…. You want… to hear my update, let’s go-oh! Dee-ta-ta-leet-da-da-leet-dee-dee… Dee-ta-leet-dee-dee…<br /><br />Without further singing or ado... let’s get on with it, shall we? There has been tons of stuff going on.<br /><br />Now, for those of you who can remember that far back, about a week and a half ago was Thanksgiving. Many people have asked me the obligatory question “How was your Thanksgiving?”. Generally speaking I always answer this question the same with some mock enthusiasm. “Good”… but that was not the case this year. My Thanksgiving was phenomenal, it was one of the books baby! I left work Wednesday afternoon, and things were looking good… and they were only gonna get better. I actually shut my laptop down and a paused as I looked at it, and in my head I told myself “Wow, not going to power you up until Monday”. I was looking at four days of complete and total freedom! The thought was serene, it was actually calming, and most importantly it brought a Cheshire cat grin to my face that didn’t leave for four days. I almost felt like I was cheating… like I was beating the system. It was like I was getting four days off and no one else was, like I had won the lottery and instead of millions of dollars… I got four days off! I bolted out of work, like I was escaping from a mental institution, which to be quite honest that is what my office resembles more often than not, and I had already packed my bags! I had everything I need to camp out at my sister’s house for the next few days. My sister Mary Pat had flown in for the holiday and Mary Pat is a TON of fun… she is a walking Mardi Gras and everyone loves to be around her, so I knew my holiday was going to be great! She was staying at my sister’s as well, so let the party begin!<br /><br />I am racing over to Grapevine Mills mall to get to the movie theater to go see “Enchanted”. I am so excited to see this movie, I had been dying to see it since I first saw the trailer for it. It is about fairytale animated princess who gets propelled off the animation drawing board and right smack dab into New York City!!! I love the whole fairytale princess thing, I love New York City, and I am a huge sap when it comes to movies where it simply HAS to end with the boy getting the girl and “they lived happily ever after” endings! So, I simply knew this was the movie for me. Luckily for me, I have three nieces so that gives me a great excuse for going to see these types of movies… you go up to the ticket box office and ask for “1 adult ticket please” and that does generate some looks, I cant even imagine what those looks would be if I was a guy!! But you go up to the box office and say, “1 adult, 3 kids”… you can even through in a typical “Can’t believe I have to see THIS movie”, and there are no looks, other than to those of complete understanding. So, I go and grab tickets for my two sisters, my mother and my three nieces… I am ready for the show! I am waiting patiently until they get there, and then my nieces bank the corner. They see me and they go from fast walking into an all out sprint… the eleven year old is in the lead!!! It is like they are racing for the roses and I am the roses!!! Woohoo! You will never feel more loved and adored and idolized as you do when three little girls are racing toward you with utter exhilaration painted across their smiles and them screaming “Martha!” at the top of their lungs. I think it would be great if I could get a recording of them all screaming my name that way, I could keep it in my cube at work and when I solve and issue or deploy new code, I could hit play… and hear it… “Martha!” We all greet each other and hit the concession stand for our movie-going fare. The typical popcorn and sodas… at the rock bottom price of $58. You could go to Taco Bell and feed a hungry family of ten, and I mean hungry, for that kind of money. Crazy. We get into the theater and there is NO one there! Yahtzee!!! I love going to the movies when no one is in the theater with you… it is like your own private screening, I feel so Howard Hughes. The movie was good, not great, but good and sometimes that is good enough.<br /><br />We leave the theater and head into the mall to shop for just a little bit, and my niece Rebecca looks at me and says “I wish you didn’t have to leave.” I was a little shocked and then quickly realized this kid had no idea I was staying the weekend! I said, “yeah, I know.” And began snickering to myself. Her lamenting persisted, and I kept poking her about it until finally I told her that I was stay, not only that but I was going to be sleeping in her room!! She was thrilled, yet again… I felt like a star! She was so excited that not only was Aunt Martha not going home, but by God she was gonna be staying in her room! My other two nieces quickly flew into action, “why cant you sleep in my room?” was said in unison by the other two kids. You have to understand that Rebecca is the oldest, and the only one that is a good sleeper. The other two are not only not good sleepers, but will keep you awake the entire night… trust me I know, this has happened to me… More. Than. Once. The kids were thrilled that I was staying and I have to admit so was I.<br /><br />The next day was Thanksgiving, and I had a lot to be thankful for… being off of work for four days topped the list this year, after that it 300-way tie for second… with the normal stuff thrown in, my house, my car that still amazes me, my job that I have four days away from, my friends, my vacation coming up in March, my family, my health, my big toe that is back to normal… you know, “stuff”. The next day was spent playing every game you can imagine. We played with dolls, we did “Dance Dance Revolution” on X-box, we did “Kareoke” on the X-box, we watched “National Treasure”, we ate, we snacked, we had more popcorn, and we finally fell into bed for a long winter’s nap around 9:30pm, something I haven’t probably done in a long time but man, I needed the rest! It was great. I slept until 8am the next morning, so did Rebecca, God love that kid, she can sleep! If you ever spend the night at my sister’s, word to the wise, sleep in Rebecca’s room. She will crowd you a little bit, because she really wants to lay next-to/on-top-of you, but other than that, she doesn’t stir, she doesn’t snore, she doesn’t drool, she doesn’t seem to ever have nightmares, she doesn’t wet the bed, and she will sleep until you wake her up!<br /><br />The next day was a whirlwind… it whipped by so fast I can hardly remember it! I went down to College Station, yes my beloved Aggieland to see us play the University of Texas. I have to admit I had already steeled myself to accept a loss. I knew that we had won last year, and I knew that Fran was still coaching, so I knew the odds of us winning were not good. I got there and it was cold, that was going to add insult to injury. But the Aggies went ahead early in the first quarter… we were passing the ball!!! I almost didn’t recognize the strange gyration that was happening with our quarterbacks arm… I thought maybe his arm was broken or he was signaling to the sideline… but after thinking about it for a few minutes and conferring with those around me and even noticing that they moved the chains, we all decided it was a forward pass!!! It was like something from another planet, we were in awe of this. Then later… a faked field goal!!! We were actually playing in this game, our players were running all over the field and not just up the middle. Our quarterback was passing, instead of just running up the middle, our coaches were coaching instead of just running up the middle. It was a football symphony… I called it “Aggies in 1st Down Major” by “coaches other than Fran”. It was awesome… we got the lead and never let it go. We had over 500 yards in total offense, we looked lean and mean, and I was so happy it didn’t matter how cold I was! I felt like Christmas had come early, Santa had arrived in Aggieland and left a big fat win underneath the century tree for all to enjoy, but then later that night after leaving the game… it got better, we had all gotten our win and had played with it, we were all basking in our newest and latest toy, and then apparently the newscasters looked under the century tree and saw a new gift that Santa had left. It was coach Fran’s resignation letter, complete with speech and the keys to locker room! Could it get any better? Is there anything else that Santa could have left? I am wondering if he left a National Championship title under the tree, complete with a Waterford crystal football… but if he had I am sure someone would have found that by now!<br /><br />I got back home Saturday and raced through the day, it all ended at my mother’s house with a holiday celebration for my sister Kathy being in town. There were leftovers galore and there was laughter in spades, the house was bursting at the seams and we were all there to fill ‘er up. It was great.<br /><br />(A poetic interlude)<br />The weekend was a blast, as you can plainly see… don’t you wish you were an Aggie like me?<br /><br />I went back to Toronto again last week. I am sure that Toronto has a city nickname, you know… like Dallas is “Big D” (although so is “divorce”… hmm, is that coincidence?) and New York is “The Big Apple” and Chicago is “The windy City” or “Chi-Town”… if I was gonna nickname Toronto, it would be “the land of parallel snow”. I am gonna wrap up this “update…” but hear me out. The snow was actually snowing parallel to the ground. That is how hard the wind was blowing. There wasn’t snow on the top of the cars, it was on the side of the cars. One of my co-workers went out to get the car one morning, he scraped the ice off the windshield, got in the car and then had to scrape the ice off the INSIDE of the windshield!!!! It was like being in an igloo! I have been around 33 years, and never once have I scraped ice off the inside of a windshield! These Canadians are made of some pretty strong stuff, they really endure a lot of “weather”. I now understand why they drink so heavily, I would too. Think about it, you cant really go outside and do anything… your lawn maintenance and outside yard work are only an issue for 2 months out of the entire year. You are constantly cooped up in your home with the people in your family! The divorce rate isn’t as high as it is in the US, but the murder rate… it is pretty up there!<br /><br />That does it for me, hope you all had a wonderful turkey day!!!!<br /><br />Peace, love, and “is there anything else under the century tree?”,<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-80370185163147253382007-11-13T09:23:00.000-08:002007-11-13T09:24:19.659-08:00Update... Nov 13, 2007Let me start off by quoting my sister… “Whoa, can say that again? Whoa!” That really says it all right now folks. My entire life can be summarized in one word, and that word… is “whoa”. I am not even sure if that is a real word or merely just slang. But whether it is a word or not… it is what I have in my life… my plate is full and it is a big plate of “whoa!”. Let’s begin another update, follow me…<br /><br />I have been traveling the last couple of weeks for work. I have been told so many times, by so many people of various walks of life, how lucky I am to get to travel for work. The one similarity that all of these people have is that THEY have never traveled for work. Traveling for work is just like spending a weekend helping your brother move into a new house. If you have never helped a family member move into a house (not an apartment, that is too small an undertaking) then let me bring this analogy into focus for you. Keep looking through the view finder, this is gonna get crystal clear fast. <br /><br />When you spend a weekend helping a family member move it is a marathon. It generally starts on Friday, and you come over to their current residence… you are energetic, you are pumped, you are ready to get it over with! Now for me, I usually go in with some kind of plan… I have an agenda in my head which usually consists of everything I want to get done that evening, you know goals. Well, what I usually have in my mind is to get certain rooms packed and moved and to at some point in the evening break for a nice dinner. Did you hear that folks… dinner. This is never what happens. Friday night is usually spent in a mad dash going from one room to the next just trying to shore things up and you’re lucky if you get water, no soup for you!<br /><br />Saturday morning comes and with the dawn of a new day comes sustenance. There is always breakfast on this day, you need the energy and you are starving from the previous night. Usually, in my family, this breakfast feast consists of McDonalds (let’s face it… outside of breakfast and happy meals that place is bad, don’t talk to me about their fries because I would go out of my way for chick-fil-a waffle fries!) you know the Mickey D’s breakfast drill… a sausage biscuit with egg, and a diet coke! You speed through the day box after box, just trying to empty a U-Haul. Now the entire time this is going on I am wondering if the boxes are reproducing or if this U-haul has the illusionary properties of a clown car, because with every box I take out of the back end another seems to appear in its place! It is like playing “whack-a-mole” they just keep popping up! Finally by the end of the day you are a little punch drunk and everything becomes funny. I have to tell you this is not the time for something to strike me as odd or funny, because I will begin to laugh so hard I will cry and it could take me a good thirty minutes or so to recover. This did indeed happened during one such move, I was in the back of the U-Haul and friend of my brother’s wife got into the back the truck in a cut-off “flash dance” belly shirt and 1970s track shorts and red tube socks that were pulled up to his knees… I had to put the box down that I was trying to lift and get out of there before I doubled over in laughter. The crazy part was that these were actually his real clothes. I tried to warn my twin brother, “don’t go in the truck, you wont be able to contain yourself”. He didn’t know why I was laughing or what I was talking about, finally he comes right back out of the truck and says… “Did you see that?” and begins to die laughing. No forty plus year old man should look like he was “getting physical” with Olivia Newton John before heading over to help us unload stuff. Geez. There usually is no lunch on Saturday and you speed through everything and generally speaking dinner is provided around 9 or 10 o’clock at night. You lay down to go to sleep and you are tired, your body is tired, your mind is tired, your hair is tired, even your fingernails are tired… and then Sunday comes… Sunday is clean up day! You get to keep unpacking and cleaning the whole day. You do get breakfast and a fast food lunch! And by the time dinner rolls around, generally the person that is moving in may take you out for a Mexican dinner. The weekend is over… you have gotten nothing accomplished for yourself, and your entire life has been on hold. You have eaten fast food that isn’t good for you, restaurant food that isn’t good for you, been deprived of water, been deprived of sleep, and physically and mentally taxed during these long and arduous fourteen hour working days! But your brother is happy! He is moved!!! Things are good.<br /><br />Consider my project manager my brother. He asks me (well, tells me) to go to Toronto to “fix” stuff. Last week is a great example of this. I get in Tuesday evening, it is 6 o’clock when the plane lands. I speedily get through customs, because, let’s face it… I don’t look like a terrorist. My project manager is waiting outside the terminal in his rental car. I haven’t eaten since lunch, but there is no time for food, not even for a fast food! We go directly to the office to start working. The marathon has started, I have on my running shoes and I am praying that 26.2 comes quickly! I get on my laptop, which is silver… “Hi-Ho Silver!!! Away!!!” I am waving my hat in the air. Ok, I didn’t have a hat. I work, my fingers are flying across the keyboard… one of the ops guys is wiping beads of sweat off of my brow. Finally midnight arrives, I haven’t eaten… must… have… food. One of the ops guys swing into action, they bring me six bite size pretzels! We press on! Finally thirty minutes later… we give up. (enter yoda’s voice). Rest. Must… have… rest. We leave and head for the hotel. I go to check in and they do not have my reservation, and BONUS they are “sold out”. Well, the desk clerk talks to his manager, who gets on the computer… and the two of them “find a room”. Now, that is amazing! They were sold out five minutes before, but low and behold… you look pathetic enough at nearly 1am and they will “find” you a room! The next day we wake up… and head in! Everyday was long… at least 12 hours. There were meals that were skipped, there was only sparing amounts of water to be had, working out isn’t something I could have done even if there was time to do it… but by the time I got on the plane on Friday morning… everyone was happy! My life had been ignored… my house had been un-manned… my friends didn’t know me anymore… and my mom hardly remembered my name by the time I got back! But just like the brother in the new moved into house… they were pleased. I was drained, and it was time to return to my life and try do all that had not been done while I was gone.<br /><br />So the next time your boss or your project manager come up and say “Hey! How would you like to go to (…fill in city name here…) to work for a couple of weeks?” just think to yourself… “if my family member came up to me and wanted me to move all of their stuff for two weeks would I want to do that?” I think not!<br /><br />Peace, love, and “Let’s get physical!”,<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-74562984618515963072007-11-01T12:42:00.000-07:002007-11-01T13:53:14.088-07:00Update... Nov 1, 2007Good morning to one and to all,<br /><br />Well, I have to admit even I wondered if I was ever going to write another “update…”. Don’t get me wrong, it never scared me out of a dead sleep, or even kept me up at night, but I would sit in my cube and wonder “Gee, is life ever going to slow down enough to put finger to keyboard?”, it isn’t really life so much as it work… and we shall get into that and the other things that have been going on… sha-zam!<br /><br />And as Ed McMahon would say… “Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere’s the Update!”<br /><br />Ok, so you should all know by now that the Red Sox have won the world series (is that supposed to be in capitals?) and that it was a sweep… get your brooms out sox fans! Now, I have to admit I am not a baseball fan. I am not even really a spectator of the sport other than the world series, that is when I get slightly interested. Needless to say, I am not a Red Sox fan… but I did happen to see them beat the Yankees and go on to win the world series not too long ago. Now if memory serves me right, because I cant cheat and look it up on the internet… get to that, before this they hadn’t won the title in over eighty years! Yes, that is 8-0. Whoa! That is a long time.<br /><br />Side note: Now, my aggies haven’t won a National Championship (yep, that is in capitals) since 1939, do the math folks… that is on 68 years. All of these true Red Sox fans are now, not only my idols, but show me that there is still hope! That if I can hold on long enough, and if modern medicine can just keep me alive, I too could be sitting in the stands, with my age spots, my tri-focals fixed on the score board, my hearing aids, my iron lung, and fresh donned Depends and see my aggies win a Nation Championship… you just need patience!!!<br /><br />So, the Red Sox fans of this generation now get a second world series (still not sure of the capitals) to celebrate. There is gonna be some serious cases of sclerosis of the liver in Bean Town (capitalized for emphasis) and beyond!!! Now, I do have a Red Sox fan in my life, and that fan is a die hard and drink harder fan!!! Her name is Bella, and Bella is super fan. She dressed for Halloween as a crazed Red Sox fan, not because she wanted to, but because she was supporting her Sox on their way to sweep. What better way to celebrate? Now, Bella turned 30 just this past weekend… quite a milestone and something to really celebrate. For her celebration I got her a cake… not just any cake. Sure it was made of flour and water and all the usual stuff… but this cake embodied the Red Sox… it literally was a symbol of the Sox… on top of this cake was the Red Sox emblem, complete with… well, red socks! On the side of the cake, “Happy Birthday Bella”. Now, to make the cake complete it was red velvet on the inside, so still staying “in theme” if you will. When I ordered this cake, I thought Bella would really like it…I thought she would think “Wow! That is really great!” I had no idea, nor could I have guessed what the reaction would have been. It was complete adoration of the cake… built for her! She LOVED this cake (whoa, all caps!) and at one point I think she was thinking of actually not eating it, dunking it in neoprene and trying to preserve it for all time, I think she was contemplating contacting the Smithsonian (yep… capitalized) and having an entire exhibit built around it. Now, I will tell you I did leave before the cake was cut, and I have been told what that scene looked like… and trust me folks it wasn’t pretty. A waitress came by and did the deed… with symbol-killing knife she slashed into this defenseless piece of history. She cut the cake… and with that, just like clock striking midnight, the magic was gone.<br /><br />On with work… work has been my main impediment in not being able to get an “update…” out, really that is the culprit. I have taken on a new position, in PSO (acronyms are always capitals) , that stands for Professional Services Organization, personally I think it should be Predominately Stressed-out and Over-worked, but I don’t think you can put that on business cards. Anyway, work has been an entirely new adventure. Currently my adventure has me in Toronto… yeah, Canada. Ah, Canada in November. Now, I have to tell you last night, I left work and it was nearly 9 o’clock EDT (weird how many capitals there are) and I called home to check in… my sister gets on the phone and tells me the weather has been “gorgeous”. Like I want to hear that. Then my mother gets on the phone, what does she want to talk about? The weather!!! “You should have been here today, the weather was incredible”. I talked to a guy from work, Faraaz, “Oh Martha, you should be here for this weather”… apparently weather of notable…remarkable… and epic proportions had fallen over Dallas and I was in Toronto!!! Oh the humanity! Not only did I miss Halloween, not only did I miss dinner, but I also missed the weather!!! And trust me folks, this was not a fun trip.<br /><br />So, needless to say, my life in PSO is different than it was in R&D (threw that in, and yeah it is capitalized)… I still sit in the same cube where I have written many updates, I still eat Taco Bell for lunch and sit with my two lunchtime partners and still ponder life, love, and how come pretty much anything, including shampoo, has “yellow #5” in it. My life is very much the same, except for the tasks I do. I am no longer creating, although I still do that to a degree, no now I am stomping out camp fires… some of ‘em are pretty big. And it is hard to stomp ‘em out. My bag of tricks includes whatever knowledge I have in my brain and I couple that with my dexterous fingers that seem to have amazingly fast typing capabilities, which I am now wondering if I can parlay that into some sort of Olympic event (that is capitalized, I checked). There are days however when you wish there weren’t the camp fires, when you wish it wasn't 8pm in Toronto and you cant leave and haven’t eaten. There are those days… but then the next day, there is light, and you find yourself… still cold and lonely in Toronto, but able to send out an “update…” and find yourself feeling a little better that you have reached out and made contact with the rest of the world, and that in that contact… the world can contact you back and let you know how nice the weather where you aren’t.<br /><br /><br />One last thing!!! Shameless plug: “Two Rooms” is latest play that Rover Dramawerks is producing, and yes, I am going to see it!! But I need all of you to see it too! My friend Joslyn got the lead role, and it gonna be great. So, do something different on a Friday night, go see a play!!! Tickets are available at <a href="http://www.roverdramawerks.com/">http://www.roverdramawerks.com/</a>... This is gonna be water cooler conversation you will want to be part of. J<br /><br /><br />Peace, love, and anything in Capitals!!!<br /><br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-24952209571839080292007-10-03T12:47:00.000-07:002007-10-08T11:17:23.552-07:00Update... Oct 3, 2007... removed for sensitivity reasons... <br /><br />the next installment will be soon, please come back for that... :)Marthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-80469490879914235972007-09-27T08:38:00.000-07:002007-09-27T08:40:46.309-07:00Update... Sept 27, 2007Would you be mine? Could you be mine? Won’t you be… my neighbor? Hi neighbor!<br /><br />I am sure you are all imagining Fred Rogers in his freshly donned grey sweater and lacing up his navy keds right about now. I know I am. I used to love Mr. Rogers, and that little train that took you to the castle and land where all those hand puppets lived… I need to get one of those installed in my house. Anyway, the great thing about that show was the clarity of it all, there was nothing to wonder about… nothing to guess. You watched the show and once it was over, it was over. You could put it behind you.<br /><br />Now, there is something that I have left sort of “out there” if you will. I don’t leave a lot of loose ends in my life, no dangling participles for me… thank you very much. I generally live my life, and my updates, with completeness. I like it that way. So, I find myself needing to go ahead and circle back to the “update…” that was written on June 18th of this year. Aunt Martha had taken a look at the dating scene, and upon observation found some interesting people, men actually, in that scene.<br /><br />All the world is a stage… and I guess everyone’s life is a three act play. Act I – your youth, this starts at birth and the termination of this act varies from person to person… but if it lasts too long having a kid of your own definitely ends this act. Act II – your adult life, this is the part of your life where you wonder where your childhood went, and you save for your old age… it is a transitional period where you know you started out in diapers and you are heading back to them. Act III – your old age, this is where you get to spend the money that you saved but you also need to be judicious about that spending simply b/c you never know when you are going to land in a retirement home eating food that should never be pureed, which is expensive on its own and I plan on having some extra cash to bribe the nursing staff with… you see those nurses have access to EVERYONE’S medications. And even though my doctor didn’t prescribe me any happy pills those nurses could “accidentally” put one in my translucent pill cup. Start thinking of your angles now while you have more of your faculties. So, what does all of this mean? It means that the “Dating Scene” generally occupies the first scene of Act II.<br /><br />So here goes… I had actually learned about several men that were in the dating pool. One of these men had embarked upon a “Summer of Hot”. This is an excerpt from that update…<br /><br />Man #2… Is nearly thirty, he is twenty-nine so is he staring thirty in the face. This sterling example of male maturity has definitely taken up where Seinfeld’s George Costanza left off. Now, bear in mind that George Costanza was a fictional character that was brought to fruition with the sole purpose of entertaining… not teaching, “Seinfeld” was not an educational program and I think maybe we need to start putting disclaimers on fictional sit-coms… “Do Not Try This At Home” streaming along the bottom of the screen. Apparently, George and his “Summer of George” has spawned the idea that this young, for lack of better or more fitting term, man to go ahead and embark upon his “Summer of Hot”. He is surrounding himself with only “hot” women for the entire summer. Yes, be forewarned, this guy is out there! He is not dating you to date you… he is dating you because you are hot. But make no bones about it, he will not be dating you for long. Now, this guy has become a source of constant entertainment for his fellow co-workers. He has also disclosed that he “only has one more summer of hot” in him. Apparently a “summer of hot” takes a lot out of a person. Now, I do believe that the “summer of hot” can only be acted upon by a man. I don’t think a woman, especially one of my advanced years, could embrace a “summer of hot” with much efficacy. I think if I wanted to start a “summer of bald” or a “summer of beer guts” or even a “summer of divorced and over thirty-five” I think I could be successful in surrounding myself with one of the extremely narrow sects of the population. But why limit myself, when I could date any number of those and really mix it up! I am sure that these woman (bless their hearts) are hot, but from what has been related to me is that they aren’t the brightest of women. So this man, is purposefully exposing himself to mind-numbing conversation of plastic surgery, why waxing is better than shaving, and the latest scoop on MTV’s “The Real World” in order to have some eye candy. My guess is that his “Summer of Hot” may need to be followed by a “Fall of Reading”… otherwise he may not be able to communicate still with the rest of us.<br /><br />I checked my calendar recently and noticed… the summer is over!!! Which means the “summer of hot” has come to a close. I have always been a curious little creature, and as I thought about the summer being over… I started wondering how the “summer of hot” went. I wondered if this “summer of hot” was all it was cracked up to be. Was the journey into “hotness” something the cleansed the soul? Tainted the spirit? Dumbed down the brain? Or just drained the wallet? I had to know… I had to find out… I had to talk to the man that had walked the path. So I did. Here it is… the post mortem on the “summer of hot”.<br /><br />Now remember the “summer of hot” means that you go where hot people go and do the things that hot people do, and immerse your life in this Paris Hilton lifestyle… “yeah, that’s hot”. This journey did not go as it was planned. The “summer of hot” turned into the “summer of sog” due to the torrential down pours that we had this summer. So the idea of hanging out at the lake with all these hot women running around… well, didn’t happen in the frequency that it should have. It did happen though. He did go to a water hole of some kind and see hot women take off their bikini tops and jump from a low bridge into the water. Now, these women did this for free. At least the dancers at the bars are getting paid! At least they are parlaying their exhibitions into a cash generating business… these girls… got nothing for their efforts. This is why “girls gone wild” has been so lucrative. The guy that films that… he is living the “summer of hot” and getting paid to do it!!! I am sure every man wishes he was him, don’t you love capitalism!!! I digress, anyway with all the rain there weren’t never ending supply of women in bikinis. So, what do you do when you cant go outside… you go to the bar!<br /><br />This is rich… so this guy goes to the bar… and there he is sitting at a table, the table next to him has two women occupying it… and both are drinking. There is a salsa band playing (there should always be a salsa band in a ‘summer of hot’ story) and one of the girls is very “hot”. She has dark hair, olive colored skin and bright blue eyes (those could be colored contacts but who knows, more importantly who cares… this is the ‘summer of hot’ and you don’t scrutinize in that situation). Anyway, her wing man is there and she is not hot. This woman is reported to look a lot like Angelina Jolie. Btw, when men tell stories about a hot girl… that hot girl ALWAYS ends up looking like Angelina Jolie, even if in real life she looks like and IS Mary Lou Retton. The hot girl gets up to dance, and it is looking at our warrior of hot and is dancing to her salsa music. She keeps dance. She keeps staring. So what does our hero do, he decides it would be a very “summer of hot” thing to do to go over and start up a conversation with Mrs. Pitt the international hot woman of mystery. After about an hour she asks him to walk her to her car because she has to go… and he said that “as a gentleman he walked her to her car”. Does anyone else buy that? “As a gentleman”? I don’t think so… I would venture to say, as a “horn dog” this was his last chance for any sort of physical contact with this epitome of hotness. He said that he walked her and then BOOM! They started making out like high school kids at prom. After they came up for air and dried themselves off they exchanged phone numbers. He fully expected to be seeing her again, and making out again I am sure. Did she call, no. Did she text message, yes. The content… “I had a really good time, but I have a boyfriend and a son and I cannot do anything else with you”. Whoa! A boyfriend and a son… yeah, she has enough men in her life… move on!!! Side note: I think the whole text messaging people important information like that is pretty cowardly. You know… stand up and be counted!!! Do you think Angelina Jolie would text message Brad, “I just adopted another kid, hope you don’t mind... it's a green one! I have always wanted a green one!”. No way.<br /><br />The “summer of hot” came to a close with an ironic twist. This man had been looking for hotness all summer, seeking it out in order to bathe in it, and on the very last day, in the very last hour, with the very last moments hanging in the air… he met someone he is dating. Is she an aspiring actress? No. Is she an underwear model? No. Is she a Hooters waitress? No. She is a teacher!!! The “summer of hot” may indeed be followed by a “fall of reading”… God, I love it when I am right!!!!<br /><br />There you go people… you want a summer of hot… hit the PTA meetings and start trolling the staff!!!<br /><br />That is all from my cube… hope your cube comes with a door!<br /><br />Peace, love, and “end scene!”<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-52229789906439559862007-09-17T14:13:00.000-07:002007-09-17T14:15:03.230-07:00Update... Sept 17, 2007Good afternoon consumers! Let’s dish, shall we?<br /><br />Ok, so I find myself in an exceptional mood this fine Monday afternoon. <br /><br />Monday’s are historically not good days for me. I hate Mondays. To quote “Office Space”, I always have a case of the Mondays. This isn’t a Monday phobia, I am not afraid of Mondays. It isn’t even the fact that it is Monday, it is more a function of the fact that my weekend is over!!! So, if Monday is a holiday… then I hate Tuesday. Do you see the trend? It is whatever day that killed my weekend is the day I hate. This is one of the trillion reasons I am looking forward to retirement. My mother is retired, and that woman is in a permanent state of Saturday. Everyday is Saturday! She can stay up late every night, sleep in as late as she likes, wear whatever she wants to wear… no dress code!!! She only has to turn her computer on to check email, and best of all… lunch is anything you’d like for as long as you’d like it! No geographic restrictions… no having to get back to the office… THERE IS NO OFFICE!!! I love my mother, and I love the Saturday-life that she leads. I want to lead that life!!! I have so many years ahead of me… but trust me folks, I am going to the poster child for retirement. You are going to have to surgically remove the smile from my face, when I turn the page of my life and the only word on the next page is “Saturday”.<br /><br />Consumer note: Just like retirement needs to be budgeted for… so do the Saturdays of your life! Save up during the week so you can really splurge… eat Taco Bell during the week, pop open a can of anything for dinner… because you are gonna want to have some cash to really live it up on Saturday. For your retirement… seriously people… your 401k should be your best friend. One day, I want to be able to loan Warren Buffett money.<br /><br />So, let’s see what happened this past Saturday. This past Saturday, for me, was awesome… let’s see what it brought me. I woke up Saturday and was feeling good. I had been really under the weather last week. I was feeling so bad last week, that I literally thought that this may be what happens to you right before you die. It was bad people. I rallied though and even felt pretty good on Saturday. I could breathe at least two breaths before coughing… that is what I consider improvement. I was feeling so much better than I had in the prior days that I felt lighter… free-er. I felt like, not only was the monkey off my back, but that the elephant in the room that was sitting on top of the monkey on my back was completely gone as well!!! Angela called early in the morning, “What are you doing?” she asked. “Not too much.” I answered. And then she said it… “Well, the world is our oyster my friend!!!!” This became the anthem of the day. The world was our oyster! Well, at least Dallas and the surrounding areas were our oyster! And what an oyster it was! I head down to her apartment, and let me tell you... driving from Frisco to White Rock never seemed easier. That monkey is totally gone… it was a breeze… I felt good, my car seemed to be peppier, my CD’s seemed to lilt through the air, my karma was bright pink as I barreled down the Tollway. I pick her up… front door service no less… and we head over to Hotel ZaZa to have brunch at Dragon Fly. <br /><br />Consumer note: I love Hotel ZaZa, and that is weird for me. There is something about this place. It is chic, but that’s not it. It is soothing, but that’s not it. It has the coolest robes, but that’s not it. It is totally indescribable but if you ever want to “get outta town” without leaving Dallas… rent a room at ZaZa. I co-hosted a bachelorette party there and got upgraded to a Magnificent Seven Suite… it was truly magnificent! Holy crap that room was bigger than my house and was so much better decorated. It was decked out. I felt like Martha “Puffy” Newton or P. Newty Martha or something really bling like that, and that is the feeling you get at ZaZa… go down and grab yourself a Saturday of that!<br /><br />There we are sitting outside by the pool at ZaZa. The day was perfect for this, the weather was warm but not too warm. They had the misters on, and the little fountains going in the pool for atmosphere. It was just great. The waiter came over to talk to us about the menu and mentioned that they had a “bottomless mimosa” for $15. What?!?! That is truly excellent and what a great way to start your Saturday… that is, if you like Orange Juice!!! I do NOT like orange juice. I don’t like oranges. I do wear the color orange, and I don’t root for teams whose main color is orange… hello, UT?! But Angela does like orange juice and happily ordered that. I felt it behooved me to ask, “Do you have a bottomless Bloody Mary?” the waiter turned to me and said “No.” I immediately began not liking him. I ordered my bloody mary and we sat there chatting like true sophisticates. Happily talking about the issues of the day over our morning cocktails, and being served while at the pool. I am so bling. We don’t speed through the meal, and we linger a bit longer than we normally would. I mean obviously it was Saturday and there was no rush, the world was our oyster, so that meant the world would wait for us. Angela had a bottomless glass that kept getting refilled so there was no need to leave thirsty. And I think we were both just really enjoying the leisure tempo of our day and its glorious beginning. We finally head out and decide our next destination should be North Park.<br /><br />Consumer note: North Park Mall has been re-modeled. Do not go to North Park on a Saturday. Even if the world is your oyster… they are too many other people in that part of the oyster on a Saturday.<br /><br />We go to North Park Mall, and it is packed. I parked just outside of Nordstrom, in the garage and stroll in. We do a bit of shopping there, and then proceed to enter around six other stores in the mall. We finally had had enough shopping and decide to head for the car. Now the important part about heading to your car is remembering where your car is. I really believed that my car was on the second floor of the garage. I believed it with all of my being. I left Nordstrom walked into the garage, onto the second floor, and looked and didn’t see my car. I was immediately alarmed. This sense of panic literally washed over me… it made my face hot, my neck sweat, and my heart race… it was like a pulled the fire alarm at school and was sitting outside the principal’s office waiting for punishment. My mind raced, I KNEW that was where it was supposed to be. It took nearly five minutes of me walking around blindly and anxiously before I decided to go up to the third floor. I did, and there it sat…my beautiful, completely not stolen, car. It was great to have it back… even though it was never gone. <br /><br />Consumer note: Panic early and often.<br /><br />We headed back to White Rock Lake and went for a walk. It started to get really toasty out there, so we cut the walk short. Why over exert yourself on a Saturday such as this, right? We ended up going back to get the car and to go get pedicures. There is nothing more relaxing that a pedicure. Someone is there not only massaging your feet and lower legs, but they are also making your feet look pretty for weeks to come. It is the perfect combination of aesthetics meets relaxation… you cant get that anywhere else. There isn’t anything else out there that provides you with beauty and relaxation without any pain involved whatsoever. We walk in and we wait for a paltry five minutes maybe before they sit each of us into our big, huge, leathery, oh-so-comfy massage chairs (I love that part too). At this point the only thing that could make this better is if they handed me a martini and a winning lottery ticket. Other than that… I was good.<br /><br />Consumer note: The pedicure place that we went to was down off of Mockingbird… apparently teenagers go there. The pedicure was going flawlessly and much relaxation was being had by all until a teenager sat down next to Angela. The worst thing in the world happened, she recognized one of her friends that was sitting on the OTHER SIDE of the salon… so what does she do, does she move over to be next to her friend… no, she just starts talking at an unbelievably loud volume in order for her friend to hear her. They talk about stuff that made me laugh and blush and want to beat the crap out of her all at the same time. She goes to Ursuline Academy in Dallas, her friend goes to Bishop Lynch. They were talking about homecoming and who is dating who… one of their friends apparently has a boyfriend and it is serious… but the girl doesn’t know if she wants to get MARRIED yet. Hello!!! I am 33, and that is struggle for me to get to that mindset!!! Omg!! This is what they are grappling with? I say… finish high school, go to college, do some traveling, and start paying taxes before you decide if you want to get married!!! Geez!!! It was hard not to bust out laughing… but seriously if you go in to get a pedicure and you see some teenage girls talking, know this… the conversation will under no circumstances stop or even hit a lull, it will get louder, it will get more inane, it will at some point make you want to abandon your pedicure in order to save your brain cells, but it will also make you laugh with pity.<br /><br />After my pedicure I dropped Angela off, it had been a big day, and I still had more to do… I had a play to go see Saturday night! Which I did. It was good, but the world didn’t feel like my oyster anymore. It was just my world again. It was a fleeting day, but one I will always remember. One filled with possibilities and a pearl around every corner. I hope your Saturday was that good… heck I hope this Saturday is even better… maybe this Saturday San Francisco will be my oyster!!!<br /><br />Enjoy the week!!!<br /><br />Peace, love, and oysters!<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-15087944240996410132007-09-05T13:47:00.001-07:002007-09-05T13:47:47.143-07:00Update... Sept 5, 2007Welcome to the latest installment of “Update…”, my little life has been quite eventful as of late… so I am only gonna skim the surface… that is all I have time for, I do actually HAVE a job and actually need to at least fake doing it sometimes.<br /><br />Quick random story: So, I was in the shower this morning… I do that regularly. I also do my best thinking in the shower, it seems to be my temple of thought or my sauna of meditation or just more or less where I get clean. Anyway, I was going to be having dinner with a new friend this week. Now, this is a new friend, and not someone that I know personally, but this new friend is pregnant. This throws a wrench in my normal social patterns. I mean the stereotypes dictate that this person could be in any number of emotional states, and it is not only up to me to discern this quickly upon introduction but to navigate these perilous waters with little knowledge of this person and their likes and dislikes… talk about being a little nervous, I was actually trying to figure out how to approach the situation. So, I thought about do’s and don’t’s… like… don’t touch her belly. Don’t talk about liquor and order a double martini with a Makers chaser. Do be yourself, but if you see her burst into tears detour the conversation to something that pertains to her… Don’t talk too much about her job, you don’t know if she is leaving that world behind and regretting it… or if she is leaving that world behind and loving the fact that those bastards are history. Don’t talk about the cute little dress you just bought in a size 4, and how it really makes ANYONE look slim. Do you see the pitfalls here? Do you see the myriad of potholes in the road? That road looks like a driving range on beginners day! Now, I must admit that I am a little afraid of having children, not raising children, but actually giving birth. I think most women are, actually I think it is most women who have never done it. I am sure it is like sky diving the first time you do it, it’s scary… the second time… no big deal. The difference? In sky diving you have someone else strapped to you in a tandem jump… you are truly in it together. To quote Leonardo DiCaprio “You jump, I jump”. In that birthing room, no one else is gonna give birth that baby but you! Then I started thinking of the movie “Alien”… and that thing that popped out of that man’s chest… are you with me? Pregnancy is much like that. Your body has been taken over by an alien being, that is literally going to pry its way out of you when it is damn good and ready. Yeah, I am sure everyone in that theater was screaming their heads off, except the women that had already given birth. I could just see two female friends sitting together in the theater, one a mother, the other a non-mother… the scene comes on, and pandemonium goes up in the theater, men are screaming, the one friend is screaming, the other woman leans over, still eating her popcorn and says, “you know, when something is trying to get out of you like that, it isn’t that bad. And look at how quick that was for him, if ONLY I had had it that easy!” She then leans back into her chair and resumes her popcorn consumption… completely unphased by what she has just seen. You gotta love those women who have given birth, they are my heroes! Personally, I feel that pregnancy and delivery is something I must tolerate in order to have the children that I want… can I get an ‘Amen’?<br /><br />On with the “update…”<br /><br />I just got back from New York, yes the Big Apple baby! It was my sister, Mary Pat, 50th birthday bash, and what a bash it was!!! It was like nothing could go wrong… everything ran like a well oiled machine, for the most part. We hit our first snafu on the way out of town. My sister Laura, my mother and I headed to the airport early Friday morning to catch a 7am flight to LaGuardia. We arrive at the airport, it is 6am. We park the car and look at the massive security lines… the sight of it hits all three of us at the same time, we are going to miss this flight. We get our bags checked in and get in the security line that literally looks like “American Idol” audition lines. The line is forever long, and stretches around three roped off zig-zag lines, and then proceeds down a long hallway. I look at Laura, and we decide to leave mom in the line and seek out another line… “Leave your phone on we tell her”, the lady standing next to my mother says “If your phone rings, I am coming with you!”. We both run to another section of the terminal, in an all out sprint. We find the next line. It is LONG, but not as long as the other line… we call, and my mother and she and her new friend make their way to us. We are standing, we are waiting, we are checking our watches every five minutes when suddenly one of the terminal employees says, “First-class and platinum members in this line.” That line is SHORT! And I say, “Gold members?” and she says “Yes.” Cha-ching!!!! Yahtzee baby, I jump over to get into the line and my sister says “I’m not gold.” I grab her hand and pull her out of line and say “I am! Let’s move.” She grabs my mother, the stranger that has been following us around comes too! We may have chance! We are waiting, they are checking everyone’s carry on bags… literally going inside of all of them. We have twenty minutes before the flight takes off, and we get to the front of the line. Laura kicks off her flip flops, I kick off my flip flops, my 70 year old mother wore tennis shoes! She is unlacing them! The time is ticking by, I can hear my heart beating in my chest, as she slowly leans over to unlace and get these shoes slowly off of her feet. Finally they are off, and I whip them into a bin, she puts her carry on bag into a bin, her purse in a bin, and we walk thru the security scanner… then I hear… “BAG CHECK!!” What?!?! It is my mother’s carry on!!! They whip out the five plastic bags that she has inside her brown carry on, saying “You can only have one bag ma’am”. You have got to be kidding me?!?! I tell Laura to GO!… Save yourself! Laura heads for the plane, I am there waiting for Mom, because if by some miracle we can get her out of here, I can run with the bag to the plane and she will then only have to steam her own weight! The lady consolidates everything into one bag, she wont let me touch anything, she wont let me help her, she wont hurry, and the clock isn’t slowing down!!! Finally this cartoon of a security officer lets us go, my mom is running as fast as she can, which is slower than my fastest walking pace, and I take the lead, I have her purse, my purse, her carry on and flip flops on as I speed down the terminal. We get on the plane and even have a couple of minutes to spare… New York, here I come!!!<br /><br />We get in, and meet my sister and my aunt at the airport. We didn’t have any transportation arranged, but my mother had called ahead and said that we should take a “super shuttle”. So, we get our bags and I call “super shuttle” to see if they can pick us up. The man on the phone asks, “What name is the reservation under?”. I say, “We don’t have one.” Once he started laughing, I simply hung up. We managed to procure ourselves a nice shiny white limousine to take us to our hotel, take that Mr. Super Shuttle!!! From then on the weekend went flawlessly. <br /><br />I had made up an itinerary and everything went perfect, or at least really close to it. There were a few “wild cards” that were built into the weekend, mostly breakfast places and such. My mother however is also a “wild card”. I love my mother, I couldn’t ask for a better one, she really is great, and a lot of fun to be around. Now, my mother was married to my father for 35 years. My father was REALLY outgoing. Never met a stranger. I think since his death, my mother has tried to fill that spot with enthusiasm. That being the case, my mother is friendly and will really talk to anyone. The only problem is that my mother doesn’t always who, or what, she is talking to. On Saturday morning we all went to breakfast, and whenever you eat in New York you try to use the restroom… the simple fact is that you don’t know when you will find another one to use. So, we all head to the ladies’ room. My mother included. There is quite a line at the ladies’ room, and so I allowed my mother to go ahead of me in line. There was a “woman” standing in line just behind me. She was 6’2” tall, in flat shoes, had an adam’s apple, extremely narrow hips, was wearing a wig, and heavy makeup. The line had extended beyond the bathroom and was pouring out into the hall, and she was holding the door open, to let in some air. My mother washes her hands and is ready to leave when she encounters this “woman”. My mother says, “Wow, you could be the doorman!” My mother trying to be funny, laughs a little and says “Oh, I’m sorry, door-person”. At this point it is everything I can do to keep a straight face, I don’t want to laugh… I know that my mother is just being herself, and there is NO WAY she knows this is a man she is talking to. The woman tells her, that the line is long, and my mom says something about the line to the mens’ room is always so short. Her new friend says, “I have been in plenty of mens’ room before and you’re right, there is no line.” My mom now feels like she is engaged in conversation and goes further to tell her that she could start charging people for holding the door and work for tips! Finally my mother leaves. I use the restroom and all the while I am trying not to look at anyone in the eye. I just simply want out. I finally get outside and ask my mom, “Did you know that was a transvestite you were talking to?” She says, “Oh gosh, no it wasn’t!”… yeah folks, it was!<br /><br />The highlight of the trip for me was high tea at the St. Regis Hotel. It was really elegant and really amazing. The presentation was phenomenal, the food was spectacular, and I felt like a “lady” or at least like a programmer paying to feel like a lady! It was honestly fantastic, if you get to New York I highly recommend it. We did see two shows, we ate non-stop, and we covered an amazing amount of ground in the 3 days that we were there. It was a great trip, one for the record books! I hope Mary Pat enjoyed it, I hope that she looks back on her 50th birthday as one of her best, I know that I will.<br /><br />Until next time…<br /><br /><br />Peace, love, and door-“men”,<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-70380036403130006652007-08-30T11:39:00.000-07:002007-08-30T11:40:13.589-07:00Update.. Aug 30, 2007Happy Thursday everyone!<br /><br />I am sitting in my cube, as I do every time I write an “update…”, and thinking of this coming weekend. That is really all that is on my mind, not the past, not the present, not even the far off future, just this coming weekend. I have tunnel vision, and my cross hairs are squarely laid on this weekend.<br /><br />This weekend is a three day weekend. It is Labor Day baby! This is a great holiday, and I am really looking forward to it this year. But before I delve into what my ultra-cool-don’t-you-wish-you-were-doing-it-too plans, let’s really look at what this holiday is.<br /><br />Labor Day was originally conceived by the “Central Labor Union”, to give the “working man” a day off… they thought this up in 1882! These guys beat down the doors of Congress and got an actual law passed, giving the “working man” a day off. I love this idea, and I think these men were true pioneers. Visionaries even! Personally I think that it is good to give the “working man” the day off. Although I do think it is pretty ironic what the “working man” means. In this case the definition seems pretty hit-and-miss. <br /><br />If you are like me, and have a desk job (whether or not that is in a cube or you have an office – complete with DOOR) you are awarded a free day off. This is a good group to be in, and in the world of “the haves” versus “the have nots”… I consider myself proudly standing with “the haves”. Now if you are a not lucky enough to have a desk job you can still stand with “the haves” if you work for the government… those government employees get all kinds of holidays and Labor Day is no exception. If you work for the Postal Service (which is no longer part of the government) you get a day off. I would say sixty to seventy percent of the adult population will be granted a day off. <br /><br />Who wont be getting a day off? Anyone in the service industry! These are the “working men” that get literally screwed on this holiday. They stand on their feet all day long… in malls, in restaurants… even at the car wash! They are working, they are laboring, and they are without a day off. What do they get to do on Labor Day? Well, if you work for a retail giant like Target, you get to enjoy the sales that are put in place and the abnormal crush of customers that aren’t ever present on a Monday. You get to work maybe a longer shift than you would have otherwise, and BONUS you get to clean up more crap out of the dressing rooms then you have ever seen on a Monday. If you work at a restaurant, you will get to experience a higher volume of not just customers… but of full-family customers! Kids of all ages, from high-chairs, to boosters, to just plain screaming in the booth next to their parents… these people are here to enjoy THEIR day off, and you are there to labor… to take the order, bring the food, and clean up afterward. You may just find yourself waking up on Monday morning, and what is that you hear? What is that humming noise outside? Don’t worry that is the lawn care service outside in the blazing September heat working! This is the group I used to count myself a member of… I never mowed lawns, but I did work in the mall, I did wait tables, I did “labor’ for years watching others enjoy their holiday, and now after all of that… the holiday is mine to enjoy… to relish… and to do whatever I want and get paid while doing it! I wish everyday was Labor Day! <br /><br />This Labor Day has me traveling. I will be in New York City for my sister’s birthday! I cannot wait. I am so excited… I can hardly contain myself. All of the plans are set, all of the necessary arrangements have been made and it is nearly time to leave town and start to really have some fun. My sister has never been to the Big Apple, personally I think it is a place everyone should visit, and more than once. I love to go to New York with people who have never been to New York. I love to observe how they take it all in, and sometimes it is almost like watching a new baby find its thumb for the first time. That thumb has been there throughout the baby’s life, but they are just now finding it… and now that they know it is there it is there, they are going to wiggle it, they are going to stare at it, and they are even going to try to eat it. The same is true with NYC, they always knew it was there, but now that they have found it… they want to experience all that they can.<br /><br />That is all for now… I still have some packing and stuff to do, not to mention the fact that I am at work and need to actually look like I am doing something for a couple of more hours, before I try to sneak out early.<br /><br />Peace, love, and baby thumbs!<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-5209930476483344942007-08-15T13:28:00.000-07:002007-08-15T14:14:31.575-07:00Update... August 15, 2007Good afternoon to one and too all,<br /><br />Well, I have been really busy enjoying all of the things that are me lately. I have been enjoying MY new car, I have been in enjoying MY new furniture, I have been enjoying MY time away from work, basically basking in the delightfulness of my life. Now, I am not trying to rub it in… don’t get me wrong I am appreciative that not everyone has my new car, furniture, and even moreso my sunny disposition, I understand the plight of others… trust me I have been there!<br /><br />It was not but a few weeks ago that my tooshy would sit on a couch that did not match the rest of my décor and probably was purchased in the late 70’s. It wasn’t but a mere month ago that my tooshy would sit in a car that was nearly eight years old, and not only showing its age but overheating from time to time… not to mention the simple blemishes that it had that were put there by yours truly! It was not too much more than three months ago, that my tooshy would sit in my cube for hours upon hours… days stretching into weeks, and with no end in sight! It was the “iron butt” competition, and who could stand it the longest… who could hang in there… who could get the software rolled out! But today… I have leather couches, today… I have leather, air-conditioned seats in my car, and today… I am leaving work early!!! Today… my tooshy is tickled pink!!<br /><br />So, enough about “me” for now… let me share some insight.<br /><br />It has come to my attention that all men share a vocabulary that is unique to their gender. This is something that I strongly suspected, but now have complete confirmation. Now, many of you women that are reading this may be surprised… trust me I was… many of you may know this already, which means your married. So, I am now going to stand up and be counted, I am going to let the cat out of the proverbial bag! So, for all you women out there… who have a man in your life… when they talk to their buddies… start paying attention! Trust me this language is hard to pick up on and is generally shared while staring at something… most likely the TV, could be a power tool, but most likely it is a BBQ grill outside. This is where you will pick up on it!<br /><br />I have come to learn that the BBQ grill is like the holy altar for men. It is where they create their magic, it is their source of “awe”. The better your BBQ is, the more awe inspiring you become to your fellow worshipers, and they want to join you at your altar more and more. You become the I Ching for your social circle. You are the Godfather, and all it took was a Weber Stainless Steel grill. Do not confuse this with a “smoker”… the smoker is a second class citizen in the world of outdoor appliances, and will never catapult you to the top of food chain. It is ahead of the fire pit and chiminea, but it will never eclipse the supremacy of the grill. I think this is why women are not shown how to operate the grill. I think this is why women are kept away from the grill. Women are not allowed into the inner-sanctum.<br /><br />Now, what men say at the grill, stays at the grill. This is considered “the vault”. I have checked around… and the vault is widely known in the circles of men. Men will NOT rat each other out. Men will not tell their wives or girlfriends what one of their friends is up to, it just isn’t discussed. Women… rat each other out. It is who we are. A woman will burden her significant other with stories of ALL of her friends, whether he likes or not. If I tell one of my girlfriends a “secret” and she is dating someone… it is like a time-released vitamin. It is going to come out, she is going to tell him. It’s what we do. Now, the “time” aspect of this comes down to how juicy and embarrassing the secret is, if it isn’t that embarrassing or juicy… you’ve time. Could be days even. You tell your girlfriend, “I went to a company happy hour... got a little tipsy and the kissed the cute single guy that works on 4” You have lots of time until she tells her partner. You tell her, “I went to a company happy hour, got completely loaded, ended up dancing on a table with top unbuttoned, got thrown out, threw up on the sidewalk, and had sex with the married guy that works on 4.” You have until she gets home, that tale is coming out of her, and he is gonna hear about it. Now she thinks her mate is thinking, “Wow, glad I have you and you’re not like that” but he is really thinking… “Gee, if this doesn’t work out, I need to find out that friend’s phone number”<br /><br />Men do not rat out their friends… they have “the vault”. If a guy goes to his friend’s bachelor party, he will NOT come home and say, “Whoa, that Bill is a renegade… you should have seen all the stuff he did at the titty bar, we got thrown out… too bad he is getting married tomorrow.” No, that isn’t going to happen. It is in the “vault”. If his mate asks, “What did you do?” He will dead pan her, “Nothin’”. If it was a really crazy not, she may get “Not much too much”… now if it was a really crazy night and the police were involved and it may actually be something she would find out about he will say, “I don’t really remember”.<br /><br />Now, the crazy thing about this “vault” is that it is used for storage only. What is in there will never be taken out, so I ask all men… why not instead of “ the vault” have “the trash”… or even “the dump” or my favorite… “the incinerator”? Get rid of this stuff, just lose it. One day you are going to go into the freezer and ask your wife, “hey honey… I was gonna grill up these filets.” And she is gonna say… “Nope, their in the vault, we are just storing them.”<br /><br />So ladies… get out there, talk to your men about THEIR friends for a change, try to crack the vault!<br /><br />That’s all for now…<br /><br />Peace, love and happy tooshies!<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-82415012113891483232007-08-03T08:34:00.000-07:002007-08-03T08:35:08.126-07:00Update... August 3, 2007Ok, I said I wasn’t going to write an “update…” for a couple of weeks, and at the time when I said that, I meant it. But when something significant happens in my life, something that has changed the landscape of my day-to-day living, as well as my overall outlook on the world itself, I think that deserves an “update…”, demands an “update…”, even harkens for an “update…”!<br /><br />Now, you are probably wondered what happened in my life that would do this. The mind reels doesn’t it. Before I tell you want DID happen, let me tell you what DIDN’T happen. <br /><br />Quick story… I get into work early, and when I say early… I mean early. The reason for this is so that I can leave early. It is all just a mental thing really. I feel like I get in early, I don’t have to see my boss for the first 2+ hours and I get to go home before anyone else. You sort of feel like you are beating the system, like everyone else is stuck in homeroom and your Mom just busted you out for no reason! It is great. So, this illustrious morning I got to the office around 6:45am. I check my email, and do my normal routine… of grabbing my oatmeal and heading to the break room to make the first pot of coffee and get my breakfast. Well, I had actually contemplated stopping at the donut store and getting donuts for all of my co-workers, it is sort of a “Friday” thing to do. I have done this in the past and I really enjoy watching the feeding frenzy. I work with mostly Indian men (from India not Native-Americans) and Chinese men. These guys are pretty funny about free donuts, I think it is the free part that really gets them cranked up. Seriously, these guys see free donuts in the break room and they are like a pack of lions on a zebra! You cant even see the box if you are passing by, you just see all the bodies swarmed around the table. The donut box isn’t even struggling to get free! It, like the zebra, has succumb and is merely being consumed. Anyway, I didn’t get the donuts this morning because I was afraid I would eat one, and I do NOT need a donut, so I am sitting there eating, trying to wake up when a co-worker comes in. We chat and talk about work, family, etc and he brings up his parents, and how his mother and father were both deceased. The conversation keeps going and he tells of how they were married for thirty years before his father finally passed, and I say… “That is really great, you don’t see that too much these days. People getting married only once and staying together.” And he says, “Oh, no that was my dad’s third marriage!” What?!?!? And it lasted thirty years?!?!<br /><br />So here is the skinny… his dad was married for twenty-seven years, and then got divorced. Apparently, he took it pretty hard, and started to drink, heavily. So heavily in fact that he started drinking in Oklahoma one day, and woke up the next day in Vegas… married… again… to someone he just met. It took him six months to get divorced, back in the olden days it took longer to get divorced, and then he married for the last time. But you know that does make for some great leverage when you are a kid. I made a lot of mistakes growing up, heck I am still making them, and my parents would say… “Now didn’t we tell you that was a bad idea?” It would have been great, one time, just one time to be able to say… “You know it was a bad idea, but I never woke up in Vegas married!”<br /><br />So that is what hasn’t happened to me… I am not in Vegas, I am not married… but I am officially an adult.<br /><br />As many of you know, I have been diligently improving my home since I moved in three years ago. It has been a long hard road. When I bought they house it looked like meth lab. The kitchen was painted black with a black ceiling, the upstairs game room was purple with a black ceiling, there was red paint here and there… no carpet anywhere, just bare wood, and then there was concrete that was stained orange! There were no base boards, window sills, and it was, what I would call, a diamond in the pit. It was bad. You had to have vision to see the potential. Lots and lots of vision. But I have persevered. I have painted, polished and gotten furniture here and there. Most of my furniture came from my older sister who happened to be moving as well, and I became the beneficiary of that move. I have hung wood blinds, ok my brother has, and it has been a real family effort to get this house to where it sits today. <br /><br />This week… I did something that I have never done in my life! I did something that has altered not only my house, but my life. I have bought brand new furniture!!!<br /><br />In my thirty-three years of life I have never owned furniture that has not been previously owned by somebody else. I have never shopped for furniture for myself. I have done it for others, even seen it done on TV but never done it for myself. So, I ordered a new leather sofa, chair, ottoman, and tables for my formal living room down stairs. I place my order on Monday, and my furniture was supposed to arrive at 3:30pm yesterday. At 5:30pm I was sitting on the floor of my living room excitedly waiting for my new bundles of joy to arrive. I am sure this is what first-time fathers to-be feel. They are sitting there thinking “When is this thing gonna get here”, they are excited for it to get here, and they want to know what it looks like… does it “go”. I am sure that they first-time mothers to-be are thinking… “ouch!” The anticipation was thick, and I was so excited. Finally, a knock at that door. Could it be? Is it the delivery people? Ed McMahon? I opened the door and it was the delivery people!!! My furniture was here.<br /><br />These two men came inside, Santa and his elf! They set up the furniture and even took the trash with them! I still have my tables coming… they were not available for delivery. That is like having twins four days apart, no new mother should have to go through that! I am so excited to get the tables in and have the room feel completed. The furniture is soft to the touch, yet firm underneath you. I was so happy yesterday I was literally bouncing up and down with joy. I woke up this morning and the furniture was still there!!! I am going to go home today, and I fully expect it to be there when I get home as well.<br /><br />So far I am getting used to my new life, a life that is forever changed… in a house that is fully furnished.<br /><br />Peace, love, and Vegas baby!<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-53631661078766667952007-07-27T11:38:00.000-07:002007-07-27T11:39:19.694-07:00Update... July 27, 2007TGIF People! <br /><br />This is something that I have never done before, I have never written more than one “update…” in a week. I didn’t think I had it in me, I didn’t think I was capable of such of feat, for the love of money I didn’t think I would ever find myself so inspired by my only little life that within the span of less than a week I could produce a recounting of two things… that may or may not be mildly interesting. But here we are, inspired again!! Inspired to put finger to keyboard, I could say pen to paper… but that has really never been the case, and I don’t want people who are just reading this to think it ever was the case… I try to be up front, honest, and gain people’s trust, I could be a politician… other than the simple fact that I am not a great liar and the idea of sex with someone that reports into me isn’t appealing, I could do that job.<br /><br />Quick side bar: Does anyone use pen and paper anymore, can you imagine the day when it comes that the only people that have pens are bankers. We are gonna get there folks! Schools are starting to use computers in the classroom more and more, and I predict that sooner or later… you will go to the bank, sign a form establishing your identity, give them your finger print which they will record and every time you need cash, you go to the ATM, put your finger on a pad and BOOM! Insta-cash. Think about it.. did you ever hear Captain Kirk say “Hey Spock, you gotta pen?” or even Jean-Luke Picard say “An entire Starship Enterprise, and I cant get a pen?!?! I can ask for coffee and it comes flying out of a wall, but we cant beam us up a bic?!?!?” No, it didn’t happen.<br /><br />Anyway, this is the first semi-weekly “update…” in the nearly two year history of these installments, <cue> and I am taking this “update…” where no other “update…” has been before… to the mall baby!!!! Buckle up we’ll get there.<br /><br />I had the fortune to go to a “girls dinner” last night. Now you are probably thinking, “girls dinner”, how old was everyone there? Could you people drink? I believe that when women collect in groups it is a “girls” event, you feel your youth, you feel young, and free and maybe even a little silly! I love it. The other nice thing about “girl” events is that women really do sympathize and care about each other and can feel free to express that. If two men are together and one tells the other, “yeah, just broke up with my girlfriend of two years.” his buddy, who has known him probably since grade school, looks up at him and says “Sorry man. Geez, I thought you had only been dating a couple of months… anyway you wanna go to Hooters?” Same scenario, two women… one says, “I just broke up with my boyfriend.” The other, again having known her for years, says “Oh my God! What happened? Haven’t you two been dating for two years? Didn’t you think he was ‘the one’? Didn’t you just go to his parents house last week? Did he break up with you? What was said? Are you ok? Why don’t we go to my house rent some movies get some pizza delivered, eat some girl scout cookies and talk. I am so sorry, I don’t want to call him a total asshole since I know you cared for him, but right now I think that it sucks and if he broke up with you, then he is a total asshole, but if you broke up with him then he was the asshole who drove to that, geez I just cant believe it. You’re better off!” This is what women do, we sympathize with each other, we talk about what is going on in our lives, our feelings, not our BBQ grills.<br /><br />So, at dinner last night I had the fortune of being able to share with Blanchie, Karen, and Diane all that is going on in my world and they shared all that was going on in theirs. We went to Bugattis, now I had never been to Bugattis, so this was a great new experience. Diane had been to Bugattis before, it was like “Cheers” and she was Norm… everybody new her name! She walks in the door and the fanfare begins, the owner comes out to greet her with a friendly hug and some smart conversation, waiters begin to appear from no where to say “hello” and welcome their favored patron back, I thought they were going to bring out the fatted calf and kill it right there in the bar, but no… they just went ahead and sat us. <br /><br />So, let’s see what was said shall we? I have been taking acting classes recently. I just started a comedy acting class this week. On Monday I walked into this class ready to have fun, and oh my God I did!! I left the class exhausted, sweating, laughing and so completely electrified I felt like I had been on drugs for two hours solid! It was great. I disclosed my fun to my fellow dinner mates, as I slowly drank my martini. Well, we started to talk about men… yes, we did… I know you’re shocked. Anyway, we talked about how some men really cant express their feelings or really even communicate well, and then Blanchie says in the most matter-of-fact tone, “You don’t really need to communicate with men, that isn’t what they are good for, they are good for one thing and one thing only… therefore you meet a man that you like, you can just say ‘Lay down let’s talk!’”. This has been permanently burned on my brain now… Lay down let’s talk. This phrase and this phrase alone could start the next sexual revolution! You thought the sixties were sexy… they got nothing on Blanchie. So, now I am sitting in my chair, having finished my martini and started on my oh-so-yummy-cant-believe-how-good-this-tastes-but-don’t-want-to-drink-it-too-fast-to-avoid-brain-freeze bellini! The bellinis at Bugattis are AMAZING!!! Everyone should have them, everyone should know how good they are… I am now thinking of that Christmas Coca-Cola commercial… “I’d like to buy the world a bellini, and keep it company” (if you’re still reading this I know you are singing). Yep, a kindler, gentler, world. But let’s get back to what was being said… “Lay down let’s talk”. I am thinking to myself, this woman could be my hero! We could get t-shirts made, really market this idea. I think men around the globe would really rally around this idea J This is a world-wide pleasing concept, big or small, gay or straight, living in a village in the middle of Namibia or even with your cousins in Arkansas… everyone can get behind this idea. <br /><br />The conversation is fast and witty, but always filled with inquiry, we women love our details and when the specific detail that we are interested in is not offered up… we will ask for it. It is amazing, like death, taxes and gravity. I have no idea why the FBI doesn’t hire a fleet of women to be their entire interrogation department… this is something we were born to do, just like the colt that stands within moments of being born, women are asking questions the minute they can talk. You think your little one year old daughter said, “Dada”… when she really said, “Dada?” and the underlying meaning was “Dada, why are you just standing there when I need to be changed!”<br /><br />Finally this brings me to where all “updates…” should be! The mall. Karen is sitting across from me at the table, she looks chic. She could have stepped out of catalog, completely update-to-date and stylish in not only her wardrobe, but her accessories, and hairstyle… the triple threat! She starts to talk about the Nordstrom anniversary sale, which I have noticed not only the billboards on the tollway, but perused their website looking for some killer deals. <br /><br />Well, she said that she took Blanchie with her to the pre-sales event. What? A “pre-sales event”. Being a woman the question flies out of my mouth, “what exactly is that?”. And she says pretty casually that they had mailed her an invitation for herself and a guest to come and shop before the sale began and that the items would be charged on the day the sale starts for the sale price. Now, you have to be in my chair at this moment, I picture in my head this courier arriving at her door in a beautiful black suit, he is handsome, he is wearing white gloves, and the invitation to the Cinderella Ball is perched carefully in one of them. The gloves are obviously so that the oils from his hand do not muss the invitation. She answers the door, white doves fly as she does, he bends low at the waist presenting the card with his eyes avoiding hers. She plucks the parcel from his hand, spins once around, and shuts the door. It turns out it was delivered through the regular postal service though. Anyway, the store closes on Sunday at 6pm, and they arrive at 7pm… the riff-raff is out of the store now and they can shop in peace. They are offered complimentary martinis as they entire, as well as any beer or wine, and if your martini glass runs dry never fear there are waiter circling the floor with pitchers at the ready to solve that little party foul. This is the way to shop folks! I think all stores should do this… you let me shop with a drink in my hand and I would do a lot more damage and have a better time. The buyers remorse wouldn’t hit me until the next day, and I would be too hung over to worry about it. Maybe the bars need to start opening a small shoe department near the restrooms, if you cant bring the booze to the store, bring the store to the booze.<br /><br />We spent the rest of the evening really just laughing and talking, and now I am at work again… and as I sit here I remember that it is evenings like that, that keep me toiling in my cube. If it wasn’t for great conversation and questions galore… there wouldn’t be much point in it all. <br /><br />That’s all for me again!<br /><br />Peace, love, and the Vulcan Mind Meld,<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-13992935854431957782007-07-23T10:52:00.000-07:002007-07-23T10:53:13.980-07:00Update... July 23, 2007Good morning to one and to all…<br /><br />Yes, I am writing an “update” that could only me one thing, one thing and one thing only… I am inspired! That’s right, inspired. Now, some of us gain inspiration through divine measures, personally I think my mother is constantly channel St. Agnacious… the patron saint of nagging women, and her inspiration in that rite is divine. She can literally call you at 7am, having just woken up herself and start in on you… that takes divine inspiration. I can barely function when I first wake up, and I can tell you at that inauspicious moment of recognizing that I am awake the last thing I am going to do is to call someone up to nag them, not to mention the simple fact that my voice hasn’t woken up yet, I sound like Barry White, and my teeth need to be brushed so badly I can hardly stand it. Others find inspiration in seeing the world around them. Painters have painted timeless works of art; inspired by the world that surrounds them. People drink in these sites and they are drinking inspiration. Now your probably asking yourself… what kind of inspiration is acting upon Aunt Martha, and I have to tell you, it is merely the experience of my little, mixed up life. <br /><br />So let’s see what inspiration life has brought me!<br /><br />Well, I have been interviewing and seeking not only a new position somewhere else, but also a new career path. I am just like everyone else, I hate interviewing. The problem with interviewing is two fold. Problem number one is that you are going through a procedure that is completely uncomfortable, and is much like the horror of a blind date. Yeah, you heard me… blind date. Just like a blind date you are generally meeting someone for the first time face to face and each of you, independent of the other, has to determine whether or not you are “good fit”. You have to determine if your personalities mesh, and moreover whether or not you have the same goals, all of this in the time it takes to watch one episode of “Lost”. At least on a blind date you have more time, and more alcohol. Alcohol helps. You can tolerate a lot more with a drink in your hand, moreover you may not be as nervous and may show your true colors a little more vividly. If I ever own my own company, I am going to interview people at a bar! Have a drink, let’s talk. Now NONE of the interviews that I have had, have included alcohol, but they have all been somewhat grueling. <br /><br />You have to remember your buzz words, “team work”, “loyalty”, “dedication”, “tenacity”, “401K”… on a blind date it is the same thing, the buzz words are different though, “easy going”, “anit-anti-depressants”, “stability”. There are also phrases to avoid in both situations, upon meeting your new “friend” you don’t want to say in an interview, “do you have to be on time everyday?”, “what type of coffee is served in the break room? I only drink Starbucks”, “How many personal calls a day is considered excessive?”, “what’s that smell, don’t you people clean the carpets around here?”. There are some blind date phrases to avoid… for women they are “Why did you pick this place, it isn’t very nice”, “I do want children and my eggs are rotting, so can we hurry this along”, and “Is that your gut or is your shirt just doing that?” for men it is a bit different… “Good to meet you, but I thought you’d be thinner and better looking”, “Do you think we could go dutch on this?”, and “I have another date after this, so why don’t you just hit the highlights”. <br /><br />Within the arena of interviews and dating there is gamesmanship involved, each side is playing their game of chess trying to get the best results for themselves… as far as interviewing the company wants a new employee that fits their needs with the lowest benefit package they can get away with, and the interviewee is trying to get the best position, with a career path that are seeking to embark on, and a smokin’ benefits package. Their objectives are divergent. In dating, the object isn’t as clear and it may or may not be divergent, especially on a blind date. He could be looking for a “Mrs Right” or a “Miss Thursday evening”, and on the female side of things…she could be looking for “Mr. As close to perfect As I could ever hope for” or “Mr. Buy me dinner”… neither knows definitively what they are up against and that is where the gamesmanship is involved here, and it is sneaky folks. The conversation is quick, but if you listen carefully, oh so carefully, you can find the underlying meaning in what is being said. There are codes that have been established and just like the CIA you really need to train yourself in this, don’t be a novice when dating… arm yourself before you head to the bar, restaurant, dog park, coffee house… hotel?<br /><br />Interviews and dating can share the same questions… believe it or not. You will hear, “where do you see yourself in five years”, man that one is a killer. I hate that one in an interview, I hate that one on a date, I hate that one far and near, I hate that one ringing in my ear… because ultimately you have no idea what the “right” answer is. I mean if you were truly honest with yourself in the interview, and an ambitious person… you would lay it out there, “In five years I hope to be running this place, and I may fire your sorry butt for asking such stupid interview questions!” This is an interviewing tight rope, so you throw out the safe answer (which hopefully you have at the ready, as a canned answer). “I really hope to excel in my position here and see where that takes me, but my main goal is to be a true asset to any company I join”. Ta-Da! Like a rabbit it is whipped out of the hat for all the world to see. Now, if you are on a date and you get that question, there is no right answer… be forewarned anything you say… can and will be held against you! But don’t worry, there is a canned answer for this too, but you need to keep your cool, you need to make sure you are the submarine captain, the whole damn thing could be falling below crush depth, the haul straining against the pressure, rivets bursting and ricocheting around the room, water blasting in, and you need to sit there stony, drinking coffee easily from a china cup the saucer in the other hand, never let ‘em see ya sweat! The answer to this is simple, “Hmmm… I have several goals but I am not sure. I am like a leaf, I float upon the wind currents and go where ever it takes me.”<br /><br /><br />The biggest and most profound difference in these two is the ultimate outcome. In dating, you can either see them again or not, and you know there is always another fish in the sea. But with interviewing you are making a much BIGGER far more reaching decision. You are having to decide whether or not you want to uproot yourself and place your future earning potential in the hands of someone that you have met and spent a mere hour or so with. I mean seriously, there are always going to be positions out there, your “fish in the sea”, but this decision can take you down a path to financial success, or it can take you down a path of… “the company just filed bankruptcy because our CEO is an utter flake and has been borrowing money from the company and signed to debt agreements to cover the funds, so everyone who bought stock in the company and had their pensions with us, sorry but that is all gone. We weren’t Sarbanes Oxley compliant, but neither was Enron! Leave your badge at the security desk. Have a nice day”.<br /><br /><br />I think interviewing is far more stressful, the technical questions they ask, and the personality profile they try to put together… it is exhausting. But in both cases both parties have each other under the microscope, the only consolation to all of this is that it does end… this isn’t something that you will go through ad infinitum. Interviewing will stop upon retirement, once you retire you will never interview again! You have made it to the end of the game of life… no more spinning the wheel for you! Dating will stop when you get married, die, or just completely lose interest in the process and resign yourself to the simple fact that in the end, all you have is yourself.<br /><br /><br />On a completely different note, I have gotten the last Harry Potter novel and I have been completely consumed by it… I don’t sleep, I don’t eat… the only reason I can get an “update” done is because they don’t allow me to read at my desk! It has been a thrilling adventure that these novels have taken me on… it has been me and Harry the whole way through. I am 500 pages into the seventh novel, and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I have to admit it is a mixed bag of emotions. I am looking forward to discovering all of the truths that will be told, but I am also a little sad to see the rollercoaster pulling back into its station. It is going to be over, and there is no getting back into line… I will get out of my car, with the rest of the fans and do what you do after you get off of a great ride, talk to people about it. You reminisce about all that went on , the steep plunges, the hair pin turns, the near death feelings, you re-hash them over and over again. We shall see what happens, but I am buckled and not leaving until it is over!!!<br /><br />As always…<br /><br />Peace, love, and check please?!?!<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-82956943331329855552007-07-09T11:20:00.001-07:002007-07-09T11:20:50.682-07:00Update... July 9, 2007Good afternoon… well, here it is the first “update” of July. <br /><br />Now, for those of you who know me… you know that I love a good musical, even a bad musical will do in a pinch. So, today I find myself channeling West Side Story. I am at my desk, singing loudly in my head “I feel pithy, oh so pithy, I feel pithy and witty and bright! And I pity any girl who isn’t me tonight!” That being said, I will not bore you with a long drawn out “update” my friends… this one will be abounding with pith.<br /><br />I have taken a BIG step recently. One that has been months, neigh even a year in the making… drum roll please!!! I. Have. Bought. A. Car. Yes, ladies and gentlemen the bank let me do it, and the devil made me do it! Now, we all have these little devils inside of us, and I am no exception to this tawdry rule of thumb. I have several devils inside of me, and one of these such imps is a car lover. Let’s call him “Marvin”, shall we? Now Marvin has loved cars my whole life. Marvin is big believer that anything that is a four cylinder should come with handle bars, and only true vehicles are made with six or more. Marvin is also incredible partial to creature comforts in the cars that he loves. Marvin needs cushy, comfy, leather coated seats…the more buttery they are to the touch, the better. Marvin needs seat heaters (he enjoys the warmer climates if you get my drift). Marvin needs CD players. Marvin needs a tight sport suspension, as well as a roomy backseat (wonder why…), a reliable manufacturer, and wood trim. Marvin is a tough customer, who is partial to silver paint with black interiors. It is hard to please Marvin who definitely has my ear when it comes to purchasing a vehicle. Unfortunately, Marvin doesn’t pay for the vehicles, I do. So after much deliberation, and a long searching process… I found it!!! A car that both Marvin and I could live with. I could live with the price and Marvin could live with the car. I am back into a harmonious state. <br /><br />I bought a Lexus GS300. It is the car I was dying to own, and it is in the color that I dying to have. It is an amazing car. It has features on it I never even considered having, and it was at a price I could afford. It has heated seats, which are a must, but they are also ventilated. That is something I didn’t even consider, I thought “only really expensive cars have that”, but nope… mine does too! My tooshy is constantly kept at whatever temperature I choose, warm or cold, rain or shine… you will never see me sweat. Can you dig it? <br /><br />It has Bluetooth. Ok folks, I am ALWAYS behind the times when it comes to this sort of thing. I didn’t even know that my cell phone was Bluetooth enabled, but it turns out it was! I have been burning up the cell towers with my new hands free device. This is so spectacular. This thing was made for me and all the women like me. I am a bad driver. I fully admit that, and I do understand that it is something that I need to work on, and I constantly do. But there are somethings people can do and somethings people can’t do, and for me driving is a “can’t do”. I simply don’t have the aptitude, and when you throw in the added distraction of a cell phone! I become a danger to myself and everyone else on the road. There I am in my car, trying to negotiate holding the cell phone, changing lanes and the radio station, as well as adjusting the temperature on the A/C, all the while screaming down the highway at break-neck speeds and scanning for policemen who have the speed traps out… don’t even get me started call waiting!!! Conference calling fuh-get-a-bowt-it. But now, my new car has Bluetooth. A call comes to my phone and the radio is silenced and the call comes on the monitor to alert me to the person who is calling me and I have the option of answering or ignoring the call…three words, “thank YOU Lexus”!!! <br /><br />I picked my car up on the July 3rd. We were finally united, one small happy family. I actually was laughing in the car on the way home. It was more of a nervous laugh, sort of giggling. I actually started to weep. I know that sounds silly, but I was simply astonished that this car, this vehicle that I truly wanted and truly loved was mine. I felt not only lucky but honored to call this car mine. We have been together a week now, and I know that seems like a short time, but I know this relationship is gonna last. I have been so happy throughout the last week, and we have literally gone everywhere together! This is the beginning of beautiful friendship. <br /><br />Now, my old car is still in my possession, but will soon be in the possession of my brother. But currently, it has been moved out of the garage that it has known for oh so long, and it is now sitting outside in front of my house. It looks a little sad out there. I little dejected. It has been a good car for so long and here it sits outside, like the dog who “did his business” on the carpet. Sitting outside, wondering what it did wrong to get here, it is wondering what happened to my garage? Are there really this many birds outside? I love that car, and I am glad it is going to a good home and I will have visitation.<br /><br />Switching gears slightly, I would like to relate one final anecdote to this tale. It short so hang in there with me. I came home last Thursday from work and my air conditioning was constantly running. I was upset. This cant be cheap and I just bought a new car… geez! So, I did what any warm blooded female would do, I called my brother. I told him the situation and he bounced a few ideas off of me. I had to turn it off at the breaker box in the garage, because my brother said it could freeze up if it just kept running. So, I did that. I come home Friday and my house is a sauna. I could hardly breathe the air was so thick. My brother came over to fix the A/C. He goes into the attic, the absolutely hottest place in the house, and that is saying a lot. He is up there and I am scouring the house to find screw drivers and flash lights for him. He keeps asking me if it is “off” and I say “yes”. He takes off the control panel, he is flipping the switch in the attic, he is testing connectivity of wires, he is sweating profusely. Finally he comes down stairs and we move the hutch that is in front of the thermostat. And we look at it. Sure enough it says “off”, but the “fan” is not on “auto” it is on “on”. Crazy, right? So, I have learned another lesson of home ownership. There are two pieces to your A/C unit, one outside and one inside. And by God, before you call your brother, check all of the switches on the thermostat. <br /><br />Until next time…<br /><br />Peace, love, and Marvin,<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-84922011552733486742007-06-18T15:06:00.000-07:002007-06-18T15:07:30.297-07:00Update... June 18, 2007It has been a while since I have sent out an “update”, but yes… I am still alive. I am like a bad penny, I just keep turning up. <br /><br />So let’s see what is going on in the life of Martha, shall we?<br /><br />Well, I have been taking a peek at the dating scene… it is just a peek though. And I have to tell you, if you are looking at it from an observation point it is really interesting. So, there I am perched high in my life guard seat surveying the dating pool. I have to tell you there are some crazy swimmers in the water. Let me give you three examples of some men that in this pool.<br /><br />Man #1… This man is in his thirties and just trying to make his way through life, just like the rest of us salmon it is a straight swim upstream. Apparently he was a little exhausted and a little tired of trying to find “Mrs. Right”, so what did he do? Did he try match.com, eHarmony, or any of the million of internet dating services? Nope. Did he trying joining a church group, volleyball league, or knitting club? Nope. What did our hero decide to do? He decided that dating was too much for him, and that if you can order pizza, movie tickets, and even cars online… you should just order a wife! So, he became a patron of “RussianBrides.com” and they were happy to relieve him of his hard earned cash, and provide him with a bride that did in fact marry him, who does NOT speak English. This woman lives in his house, cooks his meals, cleans his toilet, and is still in the process of learning the language. I don’t know, nor did I ask about their sex life… but if she is providing the cooking and the cleaning, me thinks she is providing the other wifely duties. I guess the nice thing about being Russian is that she could be literally screaming some other man’s name in the throes of passion and her husband would have no clue. <br /><br />Man #2… Is nearly thirty, he is twenty-nine so is he staring thirty in the face. This sterling example of male maturity has definitely taken up where Seinfeld’s George Costanza left off. Now, bear in mind that George Costanza was a fictional character that was brought to fruition with the sole purpose of entertaining… not teaching, “Seinfeld” was not an educational program and I think maybe we need to start putting disclaimers on fictional sit-coms… “Do Not Try This At Home” streaming along the bottom of the screen. Apparently, George and his “Summer of George” has spawned the idea that this young, for lack of better or more fitting term, man to go ahead and embark upon his “Summer of Hot”. He is surrounding himself with only “hot” women for the entire summer. Yes, be forewarned, this guy is out there! He is not dating you to date you… he is dating you because you are hot. But make no bones about it, he will not be dating you for long. Now, this guy has become a source of constant entertainment for his fellow co-workers. He has also disclosed that he “only has one more summer of hot” in him. Apparently a “summer of hot” takes a lot out of a person. Now, I do believe that the “summer of hot” can only be acted upon by a man. I don’t think a woman, especially one of my advanced years, could embrace a “summer of hot” with much efficacy. I think if I wanted to start a “summer of bald” or a “summer of beer guts” or even a “summer of divorced and over thirty-five” I think I could be successful in surrounding myself with one of the extremely narrow sects of the population. But why limit myself, when I could date any number of those and really mix it up! I am sure that these woman (bless their hearts) are hot, but from what has been related to me is that they aren’t the brightest of women. So this man, is purposefully exposing himself to mind-numbing conversation of plastic surgery, why waxing is better than shaving, and the latest scoop on MTV’s “The Real World” in order to have some eye candy. My guess is that his “Summer of Hot” may need to be followed by a “Fall of Reading”… otherwise he may not be able to communicate still with the rest of us. <br /><br />Man #3… I save what I consider to be the weirdest for last. Apparently many people encounter this type of man, but I guess there is always time to re-hash this stereotype. He is the Dr Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde of the dating world. This man talks a good game, but then completely contradicts himself. Weird, right? This is the through observation but it is craziness nonetheless. He says “I don’t want to date someone who has a bunch of baggage and ex-boyfriends hanging around” I find that to be a fairly productive statement. Then down the road he divulges that he recently (within the past several weeks) has slept with an ex-girlfriend. What? I guess what is good for the goose isn’t good for the gander. What happened to no baggage? What happened to no ex’s hanging around? He also says how he doesn’t understand women and how they constantly split the check, and how guys don’t do that. Apparently guys don’t split the check, if two men go out… one of them pays and they other one gets the check the next time. I didn’t realize there was such a protocol between men. I guess this trait is passed along in the Y chromosome and that is why we, mere females, don’t do that. This is all according to this guy… Anyway, come to find out he doesn’t pay for women when they go out on dates! Nope, he splits the check. Now, I would love to see him go out with one of his buddies. It would be interesting if he split the check with a fellow male, or if he picked it up! Apparently this guy doesn’t take rejection well either, when told that his companionship was no longer required or wanted, he went from yelling angrily over the phone to trying to sweet talk his way back in the proverbial door. The conversation swung from “YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME!” to “Baby, you know we have a connection” This guy could be suffering from multiple personalities syndrome. But be aware he is out there! He is in the dating pool!!!<br /><br />So, many people have asked me “Why aren’t you married?” and I think that is a strange question that is always conceived to be rhetorical, but the inquirer usually pauses for an answer of some kind. I really think I need to formulate a better answer than “I work in a morgue and the men I run into are real dead beats”. But I will say this, I look at the dating pool and it not only seems shallow, but so do some of the fish in it. I may just go ahead and move to Russia and get on the “RussianBrides.com” I am sure I would be a big hit… under my profile I could put, “ALREADY KNOWS ENGLISH!!!” I could be snatched up in the first day!! There could be a bidding war! But for now… just gonna stay in my cube and observe.<br /><br /><br />Peace, love and your “summer of ________”!!!<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-15713640225687978402007-05-02T12:33:00.000-07:002007-05-02T12:52:24.942-07:00Update... May 2, 2007Good morning campers! Hope everyone is having a great May the 2nd!<br /><br />Well, let’s all dive right into the “update”, go ahead the water is… well, it’s in there! Glass is half-full… half-full… can someone get me a fuller glass?<br /><br />I just got back from Phoenix. Yes, Phoenix. As many of you know my twin brother on his climb up the corporate ladder, climbed another rung not to long ago and that rung had him climb right into Phoenix. It has been a good move for his family, they are enjoying a brand new house with an in-ground pool in the backyard. Will get back to that later. <br /><br />I went out to Phoenix for my nephews birthday, he just turned 8. Now, your probably thinking, turning eight he would have had a BIG party with his friends and then the traditional family party with his… well, family! Poor Mitchell didn’t get the party with his friends. I asked my sister-in-law, “So did he have a party with his friends from school?” I am waiting for the “Yes”… so that I can follow up with “What kind of party? Mitchell what did you get?!?!?!” But the answer will shock and amaze you… she shrugged and said “Nah”. <br /><br />We were at a Mexican restaurant, it wasn’t tex-mex, it wasn’t Mexican, it was Native American-Mex, straight off the reservation. It was colorful, really colorful with random palm trees everywhere, a tucan here or there thrown in for good measure, the meat in the meat dishes was sort of smashed… not sliced, not chopped, sort of a cross between chopped, sliced, and pureed. It had the consistency of over-cooked sloppy joe filler, and that is weird for chicken. But it isn’t the food that has me waiting by the hostess stand. Nope, it is the free bean dip! This bean dip is free… like salsa, but they still give you salsa! You have nothing to lose, you get the salsa and chips that like Pavlov’s dog you start salivating for upon entering ANY Mexican food establishment (regardless of the décor or meat texture, I am still hoping that was chicken, please God let that have been chicken… hard to say since so many things are purported to taste like chicken). This bean dip is creamy, spicy, and beany. I really need to transplant this stuff into Texas… I could be a millionaire!!! <br /><br />But I digress, let’s get back to Mitchell, I got distracted by the bean dip, and now I am a little hungry but that is my own issue to deal with. Anyway, she told me he didn’t have a party with his friends. I looked over at this little boy, his blond hair is in this chili bowl hair cut, his little round face is so sweet, he has the cutest freckles marking his cheeks and nose, and eyes as blue as this comforter I had when I was a kid… it was really blue! Mitchell is the poster child for the “All American Kid”. I looked at this kid and I started to hear this song in my head “All by myse-e-elf, don’t wanna BEEE all by myself”, it was really sad. This was a bare bones birthday, my hope was that he doesn’t really remember it and it doesn’t scar him for life. But my mom and I flew out there for the family party, Glass Half Full! So he did have some company and some presents to open, his other grandmother had also sent a gift. So, he got a new video game from me, another from his other grandmother, some always handy cash from my mom, and a video game from his parents! Not a bad little haul for a kid that is only eight. We left the restaurant and went home to open the gifts and literally go to bed. I was exhausted, it was 10pm Phoenix time which is midnight Dallas time. <br /><br />It is sort of strange, if I travel West I am tired. I have been to Europe, and it was return flight that wiped me out, and I mean wiped me out, I was a narcoleptic for two days. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and I had NO energy. I was completely sapped. But the flight to Europe I was fine, got off the plane and could keep on going! I flew out to Hawaii… the flight to Hawaii was Westbound and there I am for the first day or so, “Zombie Martha”, hardly able to construct a coherent or order my meal at the local diner, which serves fish…they all serve fish. I flew home from Hawaii, same long flight, but I was fine when I got home. Now, here I am in Phoenix and that 2 hour time change has me beat down. I have a solution for myself and my body’s Eastbound travel preference. I just need to get on a plane and keep traveling East. If I go to Europe I need keep on going. The up shot, I will never be exhausted and I will get to see the world, maybe only from 30,000 feet, but still see it! Glass Half Full. <br /><br />My Mom and I were sharing the guest bedroom and the Tempurpedic Swedish Sleep System bed that was in it! That Glass is lookin’ a little fuller. I have one word for all the insomniacs out there, INVEST! If I were going to war with Iraq, I would send a million of these over there as an anonymous gift, the entire country would be sleeping while we take over, soundly sleeping, and they would wake up to a new regime. We woke up Saturday morning to my brother starting to prepare a feast, every meal at my brother’s house is a feast… and my brother has the Viking gut to prove it. He made omlets, hash browns, and English muffins. It was delicious. The women get up to do the cleaning and my brother decides he is going to get a basketball goal for the pool for Mitchell for his birthday, sounds harmless enough, right? He ends up taking my mother and going “into town”. I didn’t think much of it, until they left and Mendy said, “They wont be back for over an hour and a half”. What? I felt like I was in a old western, and John Wayne was “going into town”… was it really that far? I looked around and saw the desert, the tumble weeds… and this was just in our subdivision! John Wayne where are you?!?!? I hope they took some water, a map, a satellite cell phone, extra gasoline, and some bean dip in case something bad happened. I mean seriously they could attacked by Indians… they have to drive through THE RESERVATION to get to town. While they are in town we are in the pool with the kids and having a great time. Does that glass look half full? You’re damn right it does! They get back and we start making lunch, I wasn’t hungry at all, but I wasn’t going to turn down another feast-like spread. I pitch right in and put my spin on the sandwiches… I get out the roast beef, the muenster cheese, the olives, the mushrooms, the onions, and the toaster oven! Toasted those bad boys up and topped them with lettuce and tomato, envelope together, cut and serve! Mendy made this mozzarella tomato sald, so good! And we had horse radish dip (there seems to be a lot of dips in this weekend) and fruit. It was great. We were full and happy and ready to assemble the goal. Precariously half full.<br /><br />Now, this basketball goal, has a fiberglass (I think) back board, metal hoop with net, and a 50 to 75 pound POLE that attaches to the backboard via an extremely sturdy and well-made metal plate. So, my brother being the handy man that he is, or likes to think that he is… decides that he can do this on his own. After realizing he needs a few other hands to hold things he calls for help. I am hold thing the backboard steady, and leaning over it to hold the hoop in place, Mendy is behind the backboard hold this heavy metal pole. My brother slips the screws through the hoop, through the backboard, through the plate that is attached to the heavy metal pole. All four of these go in, but as he is coming around to put the nuts on the back of it, my sister-in-law let’s go of this weapon of destruction. The pole comes crashing down to the patio deck, but between the patio deck and the metal plate was my toe, my big toe! My big toe save the patio deck from being permanently marked by this plate! My big toe was hero!!! There was no fan fare though, there was no parade, because like some heroes my big toe was a fallen hero! I was literally screaming in pain. It couldn’t have been more blinding or more persistent. I mean it was letting up at all! My big toe kept getting bigger and bigger. We should have renamed it “huge toe”. It actually swelled up enough that I could no longer discern my toe print on the bottom of the toe… it was gone! I lost my toe print. So, if I were to die, I better not have dentures and have my hands burned they may not be able to identify me. Unless of course I am at home, with all of my belongings and identification on the nightstand, but notwithstanding that I need my toe print! We ended up going to an emergency care facility, which is NOT an emergency room, connected to a hospital with actual doctors. Nope, this is in a strip mall… medicine-in-a-hurry. There are no doctors, just ONE PA (physician’s assistant)… and a couple of nurses that looked a little suspicious. The drill a couple of holes in my toe… to release the pressure. That is as graphic as I am going to get… you want more, go see a horror movie, like Saw or Saw II, it looked just like that! The rest of the weekend, I spent with my foot in some sort of body of water. A bucket of water, the bathtub, the pool… I never had to resort to the toilet or the sink, but my toe was rarely dry which means it was always pruney. <br /><br />We didn’t end up doing much else for the weekend, but I think Mitchell was pleased to have some kind of recognition that his birthday indeed arrived. He also had a cool story to tell all of his friends at school, about how his Aunt came in a whole person and left a gimp. I did go see a real doctor when I got back into town, I have broken my big toe, and it got an infection from the holes that bored into the top of it, but the good news is it could have been worse, that thing could have taken my toe off! Half full! It could have done a lot more damage than it did, I will never dance like Baryshnikov (yeah, I had to look that up to spell it) but my toe never aspired to that, I will never get the starring role in “My Left Foot”, my toe was never that artistic, and I may never be able to pick up a sock again without bending over… not gonna lie, I am gonna miss that. But I am gonna walk, play the piano, run for congress, and eat Cheez-its with gusto! So, you see, there is nothing but good news here… my glass… it’s half full!!!<br /><br />Until we meet again!<br /><br />Peace, love, and toe prints,<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-3034042825356993232007-05-02T12:31:00.002-07:002007-05-02T12:33:21.975-07:00Update... Apr 23, 2007Good Monday Afternoon to one and all…<br /><br />It has been a while since I have sent out an update, but here I am once again trying to tell my tales and keep you all up to speed with what is going on in my life. So here goes!<br /><br />My brother Steve came in from Washington D.C. this past weekend. Many of you may now be wondering, “Who is Steve?” I don’t mention Steve a lot simply because he lives in Washington D. C. and is a bit of a loner. He really does keep to himself and for many years I wondered relentlessly if he was in fact truly my brother. I wondered if maybe he was switched at birth, or maybe my Mom went into a public restroom to change my beloved brother Steve… turned her backs for a fateful five minutes and walked out with “Steve”. Maybe someone had stolen my real brother and left this imposter in his place! And for the past couple of decades we have been sharing our home, our food, our resources, and even our affections with this faux-Newton. Let me elaborate my point… so there is no misunderstanding. Let’s talk about how Steve is a different from the other seven of us.<br /><br />My parents have eight children and all of them are bright, but Steve goes beyond bright. My brother Steve is very smart… like creepy smart. He actually was invited to attend a school for the “gifted”. Usually these students are the book worm types, and they all get along and are relieved to be out of “main stream” where they were laughed at and picked on for their nerdy-ness. So, off went my brother to this school, not b/c he studied, this kid didn’t know the meaning of the word study. Not because he did well on his homework, because he didn’t do homework. Steve was the type of kid that didn’t take a note, that cut up in class, but kept literally one ear tuned to what the teacher was saying and aced every test. He never made good grades mind you. You cant make good grades when you don’t turn any homework assignments or do any of the out of class projects. Steve did prove though, that if you make a perfect score on every test that you could pass, and that is what he did… pass. So they had a test that they administered to all the kids in DISD, and there was Steve score sitting at the tippy-top of the heap… perfect or damn close! Anyway, they invited Steve to this school and all the nerds were too. Unfortunately for the nerds there serene environment had changed with the introduction of Steve. Steve loves to pick on people, and he is masterful at it. These poor kids didn’t know what hit them. He was finally invited to leave the school, and he did so gladly… and returned to the main stream where he literally coasted until he was 18 and graduated. He didn’t graduate with honors, or with a 4.0, but he didn’t graduate without ever cracking a book! <br /><br />All of the children in my family have big personalities, this is what I have been told. We are all extremely comfortable talking to strangers and adapting to new people and different environments. But Steve was a little different when it came to that. Steve did NOT like talking to strangers, and it was something that he would go to great lengths to avoid. We would get school supply lists during the first week of classes, and my mother wanting to optimize her time would ask us to call Landtrips (a little store around the corner that has been driven out of business thanks to Wal-Mart) and see if they have all the things on our list. Steve did not want to call, because he didn’t know those people. His solution was simple and profitable! He would pay me and my brother Mark a dollar a phone call to track down all of his school supplies. It was a great little business while it lasted, but all good things must come to an end.<br /><br />Steve was also the most stubborn person my mother and father have ever come in to contact with. He would literally stand his ground come hell or high water. Steve wouldn’t take medicine if he didn’t like the taste of it. He could be dying of Antrax and if he didn’t like the taste of the medicine he would opt for death. Steve wasn’t going to attend his own high school graduation, an event in which several family members had flown into town attend. It wasn’t until my brother John took him out to the proverbial wood shed that he decided to go. One evening my mother made liver and onions (a favorite meal of my dad’s) and we were all told that if we didn’t want to eat it we could go to bed. All of us tried to grit our teeth and get through the meal, we had our fingers clasped around our noses hoping to taste as little as possible, but not Steve. Steve took one look at his plate, and he addressed to the table “Good night!” Went to his room, got on his PJ’s and went to bed… it was 6:30pm. This is one of hundreds of examples…<br /><br />All the while growing up there were other little things that Steve did that nobody else did, and I don’t mean nobody in my family, I mean nobody in our neighborhood, school, surrounding area. Steve loved to watch painting shows. You know the ones I am talking about… they are on PBS. The guy with the big hair and then there is the Cajun guy with the “almighty brush”. Steve loved these shows, couldn’t get enough of them, and would make us watch these shows. He would sit there with the remote control in his hand and try to sell my twin brother and me on how great these shows were. “Look at this, this guy is going to paint a whole picture in thirty minutes! You cant get entertainment like this just anywhere!” <br /><br />Finally when I was sixteen, I was watching 20/20 with my parents… and they had a segment about a man who was divorced and paying child support. He had blue eyes and his wife had blue eyes, but the child had BROWN! He was married for the second time to a registered nurse who pointed out that it is impossible for two blue eyed parents to have a brown eyed child, so they did a paternity test… and he wasn’t the child’s father! That is when I started wondering… Steve has BROWN eyes! No one else has brown eyes… could it be? Could my true brother be out there somewhere? Someone who doesn’t pick on me, someone who protects me, someone that I could tell all my hopes and fears to? I harbored this suspicion for many years and then one day asked my mom about it… and then it happened, my mother told me, and even showed me that she had hazel eyes! Steve is my brother, can you believe that?<br /><br />Anyway, he came in town for the weekend and brought his girlfriend. We had a great time, and she was great to meet and get to know. We went to Fort Worth for Main Street Days, and that was a blast. The kids put different colored sand into bottles, who knew that could be so much fun… and expensive! Caroline got her face painted, and Claire got a henna tattoo. We went to Claire’s soccer game where she scored two goals!!!! We went to Roy’s for dinner and it was great. I hosted a brunch at my house on Sunday for everyone.<br /><br />Claire is definitely the niece most like me. Claire tans very easily. I tan very easily. Claire has brown hair. I have brown hair. Claire has blue eyes. I have blue eyes. But the greatest similarity that the two of us possess, is that we are both klutzy. Claire has yet to come into my house and NOT spill something. She has toppled over people’s margaritas, she has had a plate hit the floor, and yesterday she dropped pink yogurt on the floor. I love that kid! When I was a kid I dropped more stuff than anyone, and it is nice to the see the family trait passed on. <br /><br />So, as you can see… there are people in my family who are really similar and some that are not so similar, but luckily in my family it all seems to work! <br /><br />Until next time…<br /><br />Peace, love and paternity test!<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-80190746325467078972007-05-02T12:31:00.001-07:002007-05-02T12:31:31.487-07:00Update... Mar 15, 2007Good afternoon friends and family,<br /><br />Well, we are zooming into the weekend, and for those of you lucky enough to get paid semi-monthly… it is pay day. The Ides of March may have been a bad thing for Julius Caesar, but for Aunt Martha it means cold hard cash!!! I love payday. For the obvious reason that for at least 24 hours you feel flush with cash, of course there are bills to be paid, but for at least 24 hours before any other checks clear I feel like I could go out and buy anything… or just about anything that less than or equal to may actual take home pay.<br /><br />Which brings me to our first topic of conversation, I like to think of these exchanges as a conversations although I am doing all of the talking. Many of you may know that my niece is planning on moving to Dallas in June and that she is planning on moving in with Aunt Martha. I think this is going to be a really great fresh start for Marguerite, the niece, and I am hoping that it is going to be a smooth transition for both of us… but keep your fingers and you ears to the ground… you never know what may happen. She interviewed with a company that does management consulting services… my skin just crawled… and has been somewhat offered a position there, but the position seems to 1099. Yikes, now my skin is really crawling. The unfortunate part so far is that she doesn’t really understand the implications of being 1099 versus W-2. When I told her that she would have to pay all of her own taxes, she told me that she already pays taxes… when I tried to explain that she was only paying a portion of her taxes and that the company was paying the rest, I don’t think she believed me, moreover I don’t know if she was completely listening. But she is an adult and this is her life, so I can only give her information, not advice, and see where that takes her. So, you may want to say a few prayers and start checking the looney bins around the June timeframe… I may be in one, please visit.<br /><br />For those of you wondering, I am still looking for a car. Currently I am driving my old car, yes the silver Acura… that has a small blemish on the rear bumper, a strangely placed dent on the roof and top of the passenger door, a scratch on the passenger window, and enormous crack in the front windshield that looks like a mapping of the Amazon River. This car has been through a lot folks, and when I say a lot, I mean a lot. This car has been in around 7 accidents. Some of which I was driving the car, and a couple in which it was simply parked in the wrong place at the wrong time… poor thing. This car has been rear-ended at least twice, it has had big things dropped on it from high above, it is on its third (yes you read the right, third) transmission, it has been hit by bus, a BIG YELLOW SCHOOL BUS, full of second graders, and God love this car… it is still going strong. My car had recently started sputtering on startup. You can ask my niece who was in the car with me on one of the worst occasions of my car doing this, I was a complete wreck. I was terrified, terrified of the car stalling out in the middle of the road not only leaving me stranded, but leaving me dead in the path of an eighteen wheeler hauling dangerous chemicals!! I could see the headlines now, “Programmer dies in car accident, it was t he collision that killed her (she’s been through plenty of that), it wasn’t even being thrown precariously from the vehicle, it was the being bathed in Nitric Acid that finally did her in. Her remains have been packed into a Crown Royal bag, and her Mother is burying her in the backyard. Please call for directions”. Then they will simply go on and on about the dangers of Nitric Acid and how you should really keep your car maintained. It is amazing how the newspapers do that sort of thing. Gee, here is some really awful news but let’s explain how this could happen to you and you can avoid it, all the while you have simply been de-sensitized to the fact that someone has perished in all of this. Anyway… I am way subject. The point of the matter is I know that my car is old. I know that my car isn’t, shall we say, 100% anymore. I know that my car isn’t pristine. And on top of all of that, I know that my car is paid for! It is my favorite attribute of the car. So, I have been out on the internet surfing… letting my eyes and fingers do the browsing. I have really fallen in love with the Lexus GS300, model year 2006 or newer. I like the newer body style…it is sleek, it is sporty, it is muscly, it is what Aunt Martha would definitely buy if she wasn’t so afraid of having a car payment. I have to admit I am a little afraid of having a car payment. I am a little afraid of not being able to go out and have a nice dinner when I want, which is pretty much what I do now. I wont be able to buy a new outfit when I want, which is pretty much what I do now. I wouldn’t be able to just jet off to Europe when I want… which is what I aspire to do. But the time for put, slap my credit score down, and finance a car is drawing neigh. I am going to be doing this sooner rather than later, and I will be elated. I will love my new car. I will be happy. I will be broke! So, stay tuned… I could be driving by you in my new car…<br /><br /><br />The play is going really well, if you’d like to come and see it please do!!! The website is <a title="http://www.roverdramawerks.com/" href="http://www.roverdramawerks.com/">www.roverdramawerks.com</a>. I cant believe it is already our second weekend. I have really enjoyed getting to know all of the people and just being part of a play for the second time has been just as much fun as the first. <br /><br />Well, I am gonna close out this addition… need to dive back into work, and see if I cant make a difference!<br /><br />Peace, love, and nitric acid,<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-68367867695455336012007-05-02T12:30:00.000-07:002007-05-02T12:31:01.597-07:00Update... Mar 6, 2007Hear ye… Hear ye… ‘tis word from the cube… my cube!<br /><br />Just thought I would throw in a little Renaissance for ya… gotta keep you on your toes! Some of you I feel like I just gotta keep you awake. So let’s roll on with an update.<br /><br />Ok guys there has been a BOAT load going on, and I don’t mean a small boat, we’re talkin’ super-tanker size, we’re gonna have to hit the highlights. So consider this your reader’s digest version of an “update”. March is National Optimism Month… so let’s really look at the positive side of things.<br /><br />I have nephews, that is a declarative and non-negotiable statement. So far, I have come to learn that boys at around the age of 12 turn into “butt-heads”. It is the only phrase I can use to describe this metamorphism. I can only surmise that around their 12th birthday a voice enters their subconscious. This voice is low at first, but it builds, and over the next five years will simply corrode their minds if it is not killed immediately and monitored for re-growth. It is a cancer. It is the voice of “Butthead” from “Beavis and Butthead”. Hu-hu..hu… hu-hu-hu. I have declared war against laundry, war against mail, and just like terrorism and licorice flavored jelly beans I think this voice needs to be abolished! I have been fighting this voice in the heads of two of my nephews… and I am starting to win I think! Their grades are up. Their hair is short! And the race is on!!! I am think that like the medusa’s snakes, I have cut off one head, only to see the next pop up! But right now, my nephew Trent made an A on a science test… the first A on a test to my knowledge!!!! How great is that? Let’s hear it for the kid!!!<br /><br />I am in another play, and that is screaming into home plate now. It is “tech week” and opening night is on Friday! Yikes. I have never felt so unprepared for anything in my entire life. I think I was probably even more mentally prepared for my own birth, and I cried right after that happened. So, you may see me in tears come this weekend. We are going to be doing dress rehearsals in the next couple of days… and my “costume” really isn’t even finalized yet. I have been so busy at work, and helping my nephew’s study… that I don’t think I prepared myself as diligently as I could have for this little play. The positive side of all of this is, a) everyone is messing up their lines, it isn’t just me. Poor Rachel last night was saying “I don’t know the lines and I am simply worthless.” The funny part was is that we were supposed to just keep going like it was a real show, I wonder how the audience would have taken that, I can tell you how the director took it… NOT WELL! b) most of the time in plays such as this, the audience doesn’t know if you messed up! They are clueless! They think you were supposed to trip and fall down, and forget half your monologue! As long as you look like you meant to do it… you did!!! So screw up as you like, but look like you mean it. c) I am not going to lose a Tony nomination no matter how badly I do! Nope, no Oscars for me… <br /><br />Yes, work has been nuts, nuts I tell you! I was working long, late, horrific hours, but finally got the project done. The WM 9.0 Release is officially done and a “gold CD” is being shipped to some ultra swanky software convention in Germany. All of the sales guys are going to this conference… all of them! Apparently they don’t enough boondoggles, so let’s give them one more. Now, I haven’t actually seen the finished CD, but I have been told it is actually the color of gold. I find that a little strange, and really think if it was reflecting the amount of crap put into it…maybe they should have colored it brown. Just a thought, but I guess that is why I didn’t follow my dream of becoming a marketing executive… I’m too honest. You see, in order to be a marketing executive you have to be able to put a positive spin on just about anything! And in honor of March, which is “National Optimism Month”, I would like to explain to you the marketing executive’s role. You need to be able to, with a smile and enthusiasm, tell the CEO, “You know, fourth quarter sales were half of what we expected. The reason is that more than 80% of our sales force quit and we had to recruit girl scouts away from their cookie sales in order to fill the gap. They just didn’t have the experience or the know how to convincingly sell nuclear power generators. But the upshot is that the half-life on those generators is like 80,000 years… they got time to learn!” Yes, those crazy sales folks, they will really spread it on thick. They were kind enough to, before they are scheduled to leave, stop over at a nearby Albertsons and buy and enormous cake covered in that oh-so-sugary frosting, and emblazing “Congratulations WM 9.0 Team”. They even told us that they have already sold like $9M dollars worth of our software! Great news!!! Woohoo!!! I think one of them even thanked our project manager for his commission check. Now, that is real optimism folks… one that comes with some zeros behind it! My optimism for this month lies in the fact that I am nearly 100% confident that you will NOT see me at my desk at 1am on a Friday evening, or at noon on a Saturday, or missing my yoga class on a Sunday, or at 4am on a Monday talking to some Dutch guy about benchmarks… no I am going to be asleep, out and about, in yoga, or (dare I say it) relaxing at home?!?!?! You never know…<br /><br /><br />Well, I need to rush off… I have been in an all out sprint for over a month I hope you all have a wonderfully relaxing day… swing by Germany if you get a chance, and take a gander at the new software!!!<br /><br />Peace, love, and optimism,<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-31049572186599871402007-05-02T12:29:00.001-07:002007-05-02T12:29:53.540-07:00Update... Feb 14, 2007Yes… It is Valentine’s Day again. Ugh-gain!!! This thing keeps making its way into my calendar year after year. How is that? So I submit…<br /><br />Well, Happy Wednesday everyone! I am sorry, I should say, Happy “the ides of February” Eve. Both of those designations seem to be as inconsequential as Valentine’s Day so let’s celebrate those. <br /><br />Many of you know how I feel about Valentine’s Day. I think it is truly amazing that this day is actually something that is celebrated by everyone who has been fortunate enough to not live in a third world country. You see, in a third world country you are trying not to get eaten by a lion, hyena, or your next tent-opening neighbor (was gonna say “next door”, but who are we kidding). But here we are in the United States, and we celebrate St. Valentine’s Day. Saint… Valentine. Now, does anyone know what religion designated this martyr as a “saint”… anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Yep, it was the Catholics folks, but everyone is participating… Catholics, Protestants, even Democrats! They are all in full swing trying to get through Valentine’s Day with their relationships in tact.<br /><br />Now, let’s look at this folks. This guy dies. He was a martyr so I am assuming that his death was NOT a pleasant experience and he didn’t go quietly in his sleep. He performs… well at least three miracles… is beatified and BOOM finally canonized as a saint. Poor guy exited this world in a painful manner and has been spending his after life trying to get to the end of that little rainbow to be a saint, and working hard to do so. It’s finally over, he is there… a saint, WOOHOO, he made it!!! He’s in the club! Now, he can hang out with all the other saints in heaven… I am assuming there is some sort of space designated just for them to sit around and talk. Like an Elks Lodge, Officers Club, or something to that effect… “Saints Only” sign hanging on the door. So imagine, he is there key to the Saints Washroom in his hand, and several of the other saint are talking about people praying to them and what they are saying. “Hey Jude, guess it has been another day of lost causes, eh?” and you might hear “Hey Christopher, you still hearing about the snow and people’s travel plans?” but I would imagine good old Saint Valentine is pretty much kicked back most of the year. His prayer list is probably pretty short… Which brings me to, if you want to pray to someone… he may have some extra time on his hands, this could be the short line at the grocery store you never see… just a tip. But then Valentine’s Day rolls around… and what happens, he has all kinds of men probably praying that they survive the day with their wallets in tact, on the other hand he has women praying to him that they survive the day with their dignity and sanity in tact (this is regardless of whether or not they are seeing anyone). Yeah, this guy is only getting complaints. All of the other saints have feast days… ALL OF THEM, but only this guy got saddled with the Scarlet Letter… or should we say, the Scarlet Day! You don’t see people celebrating St. Rita’s Day or St. Michael’s Day. No, those days are buried in the Catholic calendar… and no one knows about them. But St. V… he jumped into the mainstream and has been hearing about it ever since. Poor guy.<br /><br />I think we should do something about this! I think we should right the wrong! I think we should take a vote! Who wants to vote “Valentine’s Day” off the island? Let’s get this thing back to being exclusively on Catholic calendar, let’s put this where it belongs… securely and concretely in obscurity. There are some BIG TIME benefits to this. So, let’s consider a few benefits of getting rid of it. And then we shall see if there is any downside to getting rid of it.<br /><br />I would like to start our “Pro” List with the obvious. Money. Yep, money. Valentine’s Day used to be going to the grocery store and getting those “valentines” that were little index cards that were white, pink and red that you put each one of the kids names in your class on, and stuffed it into the extremely cheap envelope that came with it, and handed them out. That was it. Now, there might have been the kid in the class whose parents wanted to show everyone that they had more money and would give a sucker with the cards, but that was an extreme case. Nowadays, V-Day is Donald Trump expensive. You have “weekend getaways”… what are you getting away from, Christmas and New Year’s just passed, you should be getting back to work, not getting away. These little getaways range from going to San Antonio all the way to going to Paris… “the city of love” and most likely one of the biggest voting blocks in favor of keeping V-Day… because they get the money!!! Money is being spent on flowers, dinners, presents, diamonds, spa services, single engine aircraft… you name it this is a capitalist’s dream day! Another “pro” for booting this holiday off the calendar is the lack of relationship issues that ensue. There are massive fights about v-day, there are disappointments galore, and even if you are the happiest couple in the world you find yourself anxious and nervous about this day… did I get her what she wanted? Did I meet her expectations? Does he like the dinner I made? Did he like the Leatherman that I got him? The list is infinitely long. So let’s re-cap… if there is no v-day people get to retire 10 years earlier, your relationship has no more added pressure, and you do not have a hundred questions rambling around in your own brain. V-day brings out your insecurities… and they shouldn’t be brought out, that is why they are “insecurities” and not “out-securities”.<br /><br />Now, the con-list for getting rid of this holiday… Let see you don’t get a day off work, so there is no con there. You don’t find yourself at on a random Wednesday night, not being able to get a table at every restaurant in Dallas. Hmmm… and if your sweetie sends you a bouquet of flowers… you have a chance (a pretty good chance) of being the only one with flowers that day! I cant really think of a “con” to have it off the calendar. I try and I try… but nope, nothing. <br /><br />So, write your congressman, contact the Vatican, or send out an “Update…” do what you feel you need to but get the word out. <br /><br />Peace, love, and Leathermans,<br />Martha<br /><br /><br />PS – there have been several people request last years “v-day” update it is attached if you would like to read it.Marthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-21985348831056544142007-05-02T12:28:00.002-07:002007-05-02T12:29:15.660-07:00Update... Jan 22, 2007Good afternoon to one and all.<br /><br />Well, I have actually thawed out enough to write an “update”. It has been cold here in Dallas, really cold, and Aunt Martha (unless I am skiing) is not a big fan of the cold. It has been icy and rainy and literally below 40 degrees for a couple of weeks here, and that is parka weather for me. I am VERY cold natured, so when this sort of weather rolls in, I throw on everything in my closet before I head out into the great outdoors. I look like a five year old in a snow suit, you cant even tell its me in there. But let’s get on with the update shall we?<br /><br />Well, over the last couple of weeks I have been working my butt off, my job has become the albatross around my neck… fun, fun, everywhere but not a minute for me. I have been working nights, weekends, I even had a dream the other night about allocation routines… that is bad folks! When you are coding in your sleep, you need to ask yourself… am I working too much? The software that I am working on is still in the final release stage but we have one customer who wanted to do the “early adopter” release. Which means they get the software for tons cheaper, but they have to go through the growing pains of seeing what bugs pop up, these people are bargain hunters but they can complain with the best of them. They have been running the software and a week ago Friday the application wasn’t doing very well… actually it was locked up, and they started the complaining. Well, I asked to get the log files sent over and the contact that I had out in LA, her name is Marlys, said that she wasn’t in the office but was close and it would take her 20 minutes to get them to me. I have learned that in LA 20 minutes is close. Well, more than an hour later I begin to worry about poor Marlys. Has she been attacked by some angry Chargers fans? Was she outwitted by a group of first graders and they took all her money? Or is she simply too stupid to find her own office that she goes to everday? No. It was none of those. After nearly an hour and a half, she calls and says she’s almost to the office, and she is sorry but she couldn’t find a Starbucks near the office and had to drive 30 minutes out of the way, and 30 minutes back. OH. MY. GOD. What??? Ok folks, I am not a native of LA, but I have lived in America since birth, and since the inception and proliferation of Starbucks ensued. She couldn’t find a Starbucks within 30 minutes of her office? There have to be 80 Starbucks within 30 minutes of my office, maybe more than that. Where is her office, Death Valley? But more importantly… couldn’t she just go in and email the files to me, and then go find a Starbucks? Was her venti, non-fat, sugar free, white chocolate, double shot, extra foamy, extra hot latte really that important? I guess it was. It took about 2 hours for me to figure out the issue, but it took the rest of the day of explaining it to people for my ideas to get buy in, and people still didn’t understand it. It wasn’t until 2 days later, when the new code set was implemented and they were no longer locking up that people just accepted that they didn’t understand but that functionally it was more important to just let it be. I keep remembering that patience is a virtue, but I keep wondering, why do I need to be virtuous? What did that ever get anyone? You don’t see the virtuous people at the top of the heap do you? Do you hear people say “Ah, that Bill Clinton, now he’s got some virtue” or even “Donald Trump, he got to where he is with nothing more than virtue and a comb”.<br /><br />I have been able to make it to the gym, and this is where life has been getting better. We all make our New Year’s resolutions, and yes I realize we aren’t even a month into this, but mine is really starting to do well by me. I am actually starting (just starting) to see a real difference. I have been going to this weight training class at my gym. The girl that teaches the class is EXTREMELY muscular. She looks like she could be an American Gladiator. Actually every time I look her I hear Arnold Schwarzenegger’s voice in my head, and he is saying “Gluh-dee-ay-tuhr”, her name is Heather, and she is married, and just like all wives I am sure her husband has a pet name for her. I would imagine he calls her “Thor” or something ultra muscly. You can’t call a woman like that, babydoll or sweet pea, no she could crush a “babydoll” or “sweet pea” with one bicep tied behind her back. She is a “Gluh-dee-ay-tuhr”. One of the most remarkable things about her is the smiling. She has a very bright and energetic smile, and she is constantly flashing it. It is happy and inviting and incredible ill-timed. Near the beginning of every class we have to do 3 sets of 16 push ups. Remember, there are only females in this class. She gets into her plank position and for her first set, has both hands down on the ground, one foot on the ground, and the other lifted, as she smiles and counts out her reps to 16. The rest of us are mostly on our knees, both of them, and turning purple. Then the second set comes along, she is smiling, and the legs have switched, the one that was planted on the ground is in the air the other has taken its place on the ground, and she is smiling… all the way to 16. Most of the class is still with her, but several have given up, and curled into “child’s-pose” which is a workout term for the fetal position. Yes, they have named the fetal position “child’s pose”, this is so that you don’t feel like such a complete moron when you have to give up, curl yourself into a ball, and weep softly yourself as your muscles cry out in utter agony. I am still with her folks, gutting it out, gritting my teeth, trying to look like it isn’t that bad, but the third set is just so bad. For the first eight she is doing one armed push-ups, and then switches for the last eight, and invites anyone who wants to follow her lead to do so. Yeah, let me tell you, that line is NOT long… no one does it! Ever! I have been to several of these classes with her now, and I have to tell you it is sheer greatness to see a new person come in and witness this for the first time. There they sit, in “child’s pose”, jaw dropped, and turning pale at the sight of this woman doing her push ups like a Marine station in Gitmo! She is GI Jane!!! Heck, she could kick the crap out of GI Joe… she is “Gee-aye Ahr-nuhld”. The first time I went to this class, the next day I thought I was not going to be able to make it into work, actually I was wondering if I was going to be able to make it from my bedroom to my bathroom. The pain, the soreness, was crippling. I could hardly blink without wincing, but I kept going and it is getting better. I still get sore after the class, but I am no longer shaking like a leaf trying to get to my car, and the next day I am at least mobile… don’t get me wrong, I am not doing one armed push ups, or bench pressing my car, but I am at least hanging in there!!! All I have to say is “Hea-thuh cahn pahmp… you up!”<br /><br />For those of you who don’t know, I did audition again for another play… and I am excited to say, I got a part!!! Yay! I can hardly believe it, but I am super excited. The play is going to be in Plano, in March. I have to tell you, I am a bit surprised that I got a role, I thought I had totally bombed the audition. I could actually hear the booing when I left, but I was lucky and they had a spot for little old me. So I will keep you posted with more details!!!<br /><br /><br /><br />Peace, love, and “poosh ahps”<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5230074046519373166.post-51088571467805539142007-05-02T12:28:00.001-07:002007-05-02T12:28:49.317-07:00Update... Jan 22, 2007Good afternoon to one and all. <br /><br />Well, I have actually thawed out enough to write an “update”. It has been cold here in Dallas, really cold, and Aunt Martha (unless I am skiing) is not a big fan of the cold. It has been icy and rainy and literally below 40 degrees for a couple of weeks here, and that is parka weather for me. I am VERY cold natured, so when this sort of weather rolls in, I throw on everything in my closet before I head out into the great outdoors. I look like a five year old in a snow suit, you cant even tell its me in there. But let’s get on with the update shall we?<br /><br />Well, over the last couple of weeks I have been working my butt off, my job has become the albatross around my neck… fun, fun, everywhere but not a minute for me. I have been working nights, weekends, I even had a dream the other night about allocation routines… that is bad folks! When you are coding in your sleep, you need to ask yourself… am I working too much? The software that I am working on is still in the final release stage but we have one customer who wanted to do the “early adopter” release. Which means they get the software for tons cheaper, but they have to go through the growing pains of seeing what bugs pop up, these people are bargain hunters but they can complain with the best of them. They have been running the software and a week ago Friday the application wasn’t doing very well… actually it was locked up, and they started the complaining. Well, I asked to get the log files sent over and the contact that I had out in LA, her name is Marlys, said that she wasn’t in the office but was close and it would take her 20 minutes to get them to me. I have learned that in LA 20 minutes is close. Well, more than an hour later I begin to worry about poor Marlys. Has she been attacked by some angry Chargers fans? Was she outwitted by a group of first graders and they took all her money? Or is she simply too stupid to find her own office that she goes to everday? No. It was none of those. After nearly an hour and a half, she calls and says she’s almost to the office, and she is sorry but she couldn’t find a Starbucks near the office and had to drive 30 minutes out of the way, and 30 minutes back. OH. MY. GOD. What??? Ok folks, I am not a native of LA, but I have lived in America since birth, and since the inception and proliferation of Starbucks ensued. She couldn’t find a Starbucks within 30 minutes of her office? There have to be 80 Starbucks within 30 minutes of my office, maybe more than that. Where is her office, Death Valley? But more importantly… couldn’t she just go in and email the files to me, and then go find a Starbucks? Was her venti, non-fat, sugar free, white chocolate, double shot, extra foamy, extra hot latte really that important? I guess it was. It took about 2 hours for me to figure out the issue, but it took the rest of the day of explaining it to people for my ideas to get buy in, and people still didn’t understand it. It wasn’t until 2 days later, when the new code set was implemented and they were no longer locking up that people just accepted that they didn’t understand but that functionally it was more important to just let it be. I keep remembering that patience is a virtue, but I keep wondering, why do I need to be virtuous? What did that ever get anyone? You don’t see the virtuous people at the top of the heap do you? Do you hear people say “Ah, that Bill Clinton, now he’s got some virtue” or even “Donald Trump, he got to where he is with nothing more than virtue and a comb”.<br /><br />I have been able to make it to the gym, and this is where life has been getting better. We all make our New Year’s resolutions, and yes I realize we aren’t even a month into this, but mine is really starting to do well by me. I am actually starting (just starting) to see a real difference. I have been going to this weight training class at my gym. The girl that teaches the class is EXTREMELY muscular. She looks like she could be an American Gladiator. Actually every time I look her I hear Arnold Schwarzenegger’s voice in my head, and he is saying “Gluh-dee-ay-tuhr”, her name is Heather, and she is married, and just like all wives I am sure her husband has a pet name for her. I would imagine he calls her “Thor” or something ultra muscly. You can’t call a woman like that, babydoll or sweet pea, no she could crush a “babydoll” or “sweet pea” with one bicep tied behind her back. She is a “Gluh-dee-ay-tuhr”. One of the most remarkable things about her is the smiling. She has a very bright and energetic smile, and she is constantly flashing it. It is happy and inviting and incredible ill-timed. Near the beginning of every class we have to do 3 sets of 16 push ups. Remember, there are only females in this class. She gets into her plank position and for her first set, has both hands down on the ground, one foot on the ground, and the other lifted, as she smiles and counts out her reps to 16. The rest of us are mostly on our knees, both of them, and turning purple. Then the second set comes along, she is smiling, and the legs have switched, the one that was planted on the ground is in the air the other has taken its place on the ground, and she is smiling… all the way to 16. Most of the class is still with her, but several have given up, and curled into “child’s-pose” which is a workout term for the fetal position. Yes, they have named the fetal position “child’s pose”, this is so that you don’t feel like such a complete moron when you have to give up, curl yourself into a ball, and weep softly yourself as your muscles cry out in utter agony. I am still with her folks, gutting it out, gritting my teeth, trying to look like it isn’t that bad, but the third set is just so bad. For the first eight she is doing one armed push-ups, and then switches for the last eight, and invites anyone who wants to follow her lead to do so. Yeah, let me tell you, that line is NOT long… no one does it! Ever! I have been to several of these classes with her now, and I have to tell you it is sheer greatness to see a new person come in and witness this for the first time. There they sit, in “child’s pose”, jaw dropped, and turning pale at the sight of this woman doing her push ups like a Marine station in Gitmo! She is GI Jane!!! Heck, she could kick the crap out of GI Joe… she is “Gee-aye Ahr-nuhld”. The first time I went to this class, the next day I thought I was not going to be able to make it into work, actually I was wondering if I was going to be able to make it from my bedroom to my bathroom. The pain, the soreness, was crippling. I could hardly blink without wincing, but I kept going and it is getting better. I still get sore after the class, but I am no longer shaking like a leaf trying to get to my car, and the next day I am at least mobile… don’t get me wrong, I am not doing one armed push ups, or bench pressing my car, but I am at least hanging in there!!! All I have to say is “Hea-thuh cahn pahmp… you up!”<br /><br />For those of you who don’t know, I did audition again for another play… and I am excited to say, I got a part!!! Yay! I can hardly believe it, but I am super excited. The play is going to be in Plano, in March. I have to tell you, I am a bit surprised that I got a role, I thought I had totally bombed the audition. I could actually hear the booing when I left, but I was lucky and they had a spot for little old me. So I will keep you posted with more details!!!<br /><br /><br /><br />Peace, love, and “poosh ahps”<br />MarthaMarthahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08020085952986191422noreply@blogger.com0