Antarctica Calling...

Yesterday while Doug was out picking up his glasses we received the longest distance long distance phone call that has ever rung into this house.

Aaron must have known I was pinin' for his coconuts because he had a minute to make a call from McMurdo Station way down south Antarctica way... I almost had a stroke, I couldn't believe he was calling us from Antfuckingarctica!

"It's the military, they know how to treat us," he told me.

He's staying at the base for a few weeks with his team, doing some projects that need attention before heading out to the field for most of the remainder of their trip. I asked him about his journeys thus far, he told me about his hellish flight from LA to New Zealand, described Christchurch NZ as the most beautiful city he'd ever seen, with the most amazing botanical garden ever. He said NZ makes Hawaii look ghetto and told us to start saving up for a mandatory life fulfilling trip to visit that beautiful country.

He is staying in a dorm style building, rooming with some guy from NASA, told me about some balloon bigger than Tiger Stadium that they're putting up in the sky, described a volcano 25 miles away from his seat which he could see clearly and perfectly.

Sounds to me like he's having the time of his life. He says he hasn't yet really processed some of the things he's been exposed to or has seen, and that it will take a while for things to sink in, but ... woooooo! He's stoked.

I felt honored to receive a call, and when I told Doug he said "I hope he called his wife too."

That'd be funny if he only called us and not Michelle! (Not. Michelle would kill his ass). So Michelle, if you're reading -- give us a call or email me. Let me know he wasn't insensitive to you. And I'm sorry Doug missed the call, I know Aaron would have been excited to talk to him.

I hit *69 to see what the area code would be from Antarctica, thinking I'd get the recording that the number I was trying to track was untraceable, but it was a 978 area code -- Massachusetts. Doug theorizes that it's sattelite phone they're using. Perhaps from there they make a local connection for the call so it doesn't cost a lot. Who knows. It's all a mystery to me... but regardless, Senor Coconuts called from the south pole and that's quite a trip if you ask me. Huzzah!

Anyway -- there isn't much else to report really. I've spent a ton of time reading the archives of some of the newer journals/blogs I've picked up so that's burned some time. I also have to get a shower. I spent a lot of time napping and lazing around yesterday so today I must be slightly more proactive. The Patriots have to win today for their hopes of any sort of football future in this season will flourish. That game begins in 25 minutes. After said game, a trip to the market is in order. We ended up getting Chinese take out (or take away as I believe the saying is in Great Britian and other parts of the world) because we literally only have bread left in the house and I wanted something more substantial than French Toast or PB&J. Thank you Doug for going and picking it up. There's a decent place about 1 mile from our front door, up at the end of our street, so it's nice and convenient. I just wish they delivered, but we live in the woods so delivery is something reserved for slightly more urban and "worth it to do so" locations. They deliver pizza around here though...

Kerry and Wine

My former co-worker and friend Kerry had a party tonight. She invited me over 2 weeks ago, and I forgot I was invited until about 12pm this afternoon when my former boss mentioned it to me.

"You going to kerry's tonight?"

"Uh, yeah! looking forward to it!" Wondering how I'm going to spring this on Doug when I know he's going to come home grumpy. Starting to sweat:

"Uh, honey, I'm invited to a cocktail party tonight so I'm going, okay? I'll make dinner first"

groan, comes the reply from Doug.

Can't say as I blame him. See, I've got friends from two former jobs who love me and make me go drink alcohol once in a while. And sometimes inviting him is good, other times no.

Tonight he would have not been into it, even if I got a sitter (which Kerry told me to do). It was just a little too silly, and a lot of insider humor. Which was fabulous for me, but not so for him... (the fact that my former uber boss went into Kerry's bathroom and put on her bathrobe and came out dancing was funny to ME, but may not have been to Doug...)

So I'm glad he stayed home and was able to have a quiet night here. Luckily the only one who posed difficulty was Jack puppy, who has developed a liking for eating my bras.

Whafah?

In the meantime, I had a blast tonight with Kerry, Marcia, Malissa, Janice, Liz and my former UberBoss Jeff. He is just the funniest. And I missed my old boss Deb by about 5 minutes. She'll hear from me later! I got there at 6:10!!!

I picked up a bottle of wine on the way there. I know nothing about wine, and picked the bottle because the label looked like an Enya song, and I thought Kerry would like it. She laughed and laughed. I'm glad. I'm such a loser with wine, I have NO idea about anything wine-wise. It is a nice label and I may buy a bottle of it for ourselves just to check it out.

We had a lot of fun, we picked on Kerry a lot. She's a good sport. I hated leaving them and coming home because I felt the party just got really underway. But... it was getting late and I owed it to Doug.

Plus, another glass or two of wine and I'd be sleeping in Kerry's guest room. I love Kerry and I miss her. I'm jealous that so many people I like still get to see each other often. Sigh.

Career Changes

Yesterday I worked like MAD on CM's website. Five hours and I finally ironed out all the mistakes and problems with the navigation. Holy crap was that a mess. My big fear now is that everything will break when we go to give it to the high school for their history department site and I'll have to fix everything again. Dreamweaver has been doing all kinds of crazy crap lately on me -- coding links to point to my C drive, to the root directory of the college site when I don't WANT them linked there. I was very frustrated yesterday, and now that things look fixed, I don't feel better... I'm nervous.

He just sent me a boat load more content, so I have a ton of work to do today. I haven't called catering man to see if he needs me this week and to be honest -- I'd rather not work for him with all this webstuff in my bag. I'll call him tonight, I can probably work for him Friday.

I also have a lot of work to do on MF's site, this week and the next four weeks are lacking content and need some sprucing up in a big way. I also have to find out from the students if they don't know how to create a powerpoint presentation, and make myself available to them to teach them, because their final projects are 50% of their grade and I want to make sure they know what they are doing. I will reserve the lab down at the college some night if they want me to. So much to do.

I extended my unemployment 13 weeks, which is nice but I'd like to not be on unemployment anymore and have some kind of real income.

Last night I got a phone call from an old friend. The woman Doug and I worked with to buy this house, S, is a buyer's broker. We've kept in contact over the last 6 years, but hadn't talked for about a year. She just had a new baby, and was calling to let us know the life update for her and her husband (who, by the by, is a contractor and has done a load of work on our house).

We were chatting about me getting laid off and not working full time, and she told me I should look into getting a real estate license and coming to work for her.

Now, normally, I'd cringe at the thought of being a real estate agent. But a buyer's broker is something totally different than a real estate agent.

Real estate agents work for the seller, want the house to sell for absolutely the most money so they can make the biggest slice of pie, and have little care about what a buyer wants. Our personal experience with real estate agents was pretty negative until we met S.

A buyer's broker works for the buyer and does things that the real estate agent will not do. For instance, S went to a planning board meeting on our behalf when we were trying to buy this house and there was a problem with the property line. The listing broker for the house didn't give a crap, and certainly the seller didn't want to put that much effort in. S knew that unless we went before the planning board, unless SOMEone went before the planning board, the house would never get sold, or in our case bought...

We never would have gotten this house if she hadn't been on our side. The same goes for the real estate agent who listed and sold the house next door to us twice in the last six years. She was a bonehead, and I just can't get into why.

Buyer's brokers don't make a lot of money off the sale -- they have to split the commission with the listing broker, so real estate agents hate buyer's brokers because they do no work whatsoever to show the house and only get half the money. They feel ripped off for doing no work. But last year, S worked six months and made over 50,000. She told me that in this market working part time and doing something else part time (in her case, parenting) she's still making money. But it isn't about the money per se. It is more about doing something fun and challenging.

She said that her job changes every day, with every client, kind of like doing web design... and that's what keeps it fresh and interesting. So that appeals to me greatly. She's made great friends with people and has kept in contact with people like us. The office where she works is going to be losing an assistant broker soon because the woman just found out she's pregnant with twins (sound familiar, Chad?) and will be going on bed rest at 20 weeks. So the timing could be perfect if I wanted to step into it. I'd have to take a weekend class, and then a test, and pay for a license.

With houses selling around here for $400,000, 2 to 4 percent of that is pretty nice. I may just have to look further into this.

---

I got a nice email from a college friend who said:

"I did celebrate Samhain as I have for many years.. I would like to you to know I remembered Clayton not only for You but for me, he always made me laugh and that is something I need to do more often.

"As I threw the corn into the fire.. " I honor you Clayton, for your gift of Laughter.""

And that made me feel pretty good. Knowing that someone actually read what I said, didn't get mad that as a Christian I'm wishing people a happy Samhain (honestly, I fear people who read this journal sometimes. If they are from my college past and are all hyper-evangelistic, they now think I'm going straight to hell because I'm tolerant of other beliefs, read homosexual blogs, I swear and had a heroin-addicted friend). But the person above who emailed me went to my same Christian college and she herself celebrates the ancients. Good for her. I honestly believe -- good for anyone who celebrates their faith in nonviolent, non-oppressive ways. May I continue to celebrate my faith in Father, Son, Holy Spirit in a way that may inspire others when they've been scared by the overtly zealous in the past.

Anyway -- I just thought I'd share that little email from J. Thank you J. You rule.

---

What else -- ah yes, today being election day I will simply encourage readers to do one thing today -- go and vote. I don't care who you vote for -- go vote.

We live in a society filled with the "I don't give a shit"ness types who don't go out and vote but continually complain when politicians aren't doing the right thing or their taxes get raised or proposition 2 1/2 overrides do or don't get passed.

You cannot complain if you don't participate. As Homer Simpson says, "Don't blame ME, I voted for Kodos."

I don't care WHO you are or what you think -- if you do not take an active role in picking your world leaders, from local representatives to the president -- I don't want to hear your whining.

The Onion recently had a funny article about a guy who votes in EVERY election. His coworkers think he has a problem. He thinks it is his civic duty and an honor as a free citizen to vote in everything, from electing the town dog catcher to electing the governor. It was a very funny article, poking fun at overtly active voters but also poking fun at people who think voting is a waste of time. Unfortunately, it isn't archived on the web, but trust me -- as usual The Onion hit the nail on the head.

Alright. This entry has taken me a long time. I'm going to get showered, go vote, eat food, and sit back and watch who ends up being my governor tonight in probably the too closest to call election in this state since Bill Weld got elected. Go vote, damnit. And have a great day.

PBS, geocaching

PBS has done it again. Those jerks have sucked me in whole hog with yet another historical recreation "reality" show. You know how fond I was of "Frontier House."

Well, thanks to the friends at the BBC, our local PBS is now showing "Surviving the Iron Age," which takes place in West Wales around 800 B.C. It was filmed in 2000, and this is the first time I think I've seen it here in the states... at least on our local PBS.

I haven't gotten sucked in nearly as badly as I did with "Frontier House," but I'm fascinated by some of the people on the project.

One of them is exceptionally brilliant (Chris) and another is exceptionally insane (Yasmin).

There seem to be only four episodes, and I've seen two. Which is sad because I like the program and I don't think you can get a real understanding and feel for the project with just four episodes... But they only lived up there for like five or seven weeks or something, unlike the six months the volunteers spent on "Frontier House."

PBS will be showing another BBC series called 1940s house, which focuses on life in London during WWII. I'm intrigued. The bombings, the war, the rationing, the air raids... all narrated by Geoffrey Palmer ("As Time Goes By"). I'll be tuning in.

---

Yesterday we were planning a go down to Bonnie and Duncan's in the big City (er ah, er ah, Bahstin) for some urban geocaching. Doug got up and picked the caches in the Arnold Arboretum for us to do, and then checked the weather.

The news was not good. It was expected that before 2pm it would start raining and blowing harsh windiness on us, so Doug thought it best if we didn't go down. I agreed -- being on the hill at the Arboretum when it starts to wind and rainstorm on you is no party, so I called Bon to reschedule.

I was disappointed, so was she. I think we should have just gone to the city ANYway... and I moped around the house for a while. Doug went out and got the lawn mowed (most likely for the last time this year unless we get another warm couple weeks for the rest of this month) and cut down the sunflower heads so we can dry them for their seeds.

At 5pm it finally started raining, and was really just a little pissy storm. We SO could have gone down there, geocached, spent time hanging around the schitty, but no.

Sigh. Disappointment 101.

We geocached Friday after Doug got home from work, it was a quickie, but we all picked up ticks. I thought we'd had a good frost that knocked those suckers down, but I was wrong.

The sun set at 5:57, and at 6:06 we abandoned our search for the second cache right in the same area and decided to do it another day with more time.

We took the dogs swimming in Topsfield in the darkness, with the full moon shining on the lake. There was a sharp drop off where there used to be a paved boat launch that the town seems to have removed, and I was quite anxious about Geoff falling into the pond in the dark. I hate that it is pitch dark at 6:30 p.m. now, and I hate knowing that in a week or so we'll be turning the clocks back and making it even darker earlier. Gah.

Pool Night

Last night was indeed pool night.

Forgot to bring a camera, which is bad because there were lots of great photo opportunities. Mostly of Ben dancing like an idiot whenever he sank a ball. Or whenever the dj played something that he actually knew. They had this horrid dj that was playing stuff which had munchkin sounding vocals over thumpy thumpy non-musical tracks. I was bored by it. I don't like dance music all that much, but a good dj can make magic... this guy "made me a headache" as Geoff would say.

Brian didn't make it--and that's too bad because we actually had such a blast. Derek Vodkaman, who works at the college too, came up with the guys and was in rare high-entertainment form. We laughed an awful lot at and towards him.

Dan was also there, claiming to be ready for the baby to come, except they still have some finishing touches to do on the baby's room. Doug laughed "He has NO idea what he's in for. heh heh heh."

Yeah. True.

Ben has a new girlfriend and brought her along. She works at the college too, and I don't know her very well, but last night she was my girl and we had a great time. She told me she was a little worried about going out with us all because she thought it was a "guy" thing, and was glad that I was there. I told her it's usually my idea and for some strange reason they agree to drive all the way up to Haverhill to meet for pool when there are a million places closer to their house. Says a lot about the nature of our friendship I think.

It was fun to watch Ben and his new girlfriend last night. I am always fascinated by people in new relationships.

The way they touch each other, the small glances across the group of friends complete with eye rolling and blushes. They were awash in small simple hand dances with one another. The way he put his hand on the small of her back and pushed her gently away from or towards his body. The way she stands on her toes to look in his eyes with her fingertips slipping gently into his belt loops. His hand reaching over and grabbing the hem of her shirt and twisting it through around his fingers into a little ball, and her not caring he's stretching the fabric out.

I've seen him with a few different girlfriends, and I'm always impressed at how sweet he is to his girlfriends, and to his friends. His mom died three years ago, and I think that she would be proud of the person he has turned out to be, really. I've told him that and he thinks that's the biggest compliment I could ever pay her. I wish I could have told her to her face but I never had the chance to meet her.

Two years ago I remember him telling me how incredibly in love he was with this new girlfriend, he met her at a buddy's wedding. She was the one he was going to love forever. We were at the same pool hall on another really fun night, the last night we all got to go out with Clayton.

Now he's with someone else, and I have no idea what happened or why. And I'm not going to ask him. I never ask details -- he offers if he wants to share. I think if his new girlfriend wasn't there he may have been forthcoming, but they were doing their new relationship connection thing and that of course meant he wasn't free to sit on the couch with me and talk and talk.

He's like a little brother to me sometimes and I get kind of... concerned and protective. We have a great, casual relationship, but I feel a great bond with him, and with Dan really. Not so much with Brian most of the time... that bond is different. It isn't as affectionate as I feel with both Dan and Ben. Brian is sort of inaccessible that way. Instead of "I love you guys!" it's "Of course I love you, don't be an idiot and ask me again."

When we are together we have a blast and it always ends with "I love you guys!" and "we need to do this more!" but we do it so sparingly. I asked Ben last night if we would have been friends had we met not at work but say at school as students and he was so enthusiastically convinced we would have been friends even if we met on line at a deli. Sometimes I wonder. I'm completely amazed at the nature of some of the friendships I have, where I meet people, how I get to know them... and of all my friendships I'm glad that Ben and I continue to be friends, that my leaving hasn't resulted in a total disintegration of relationship. I'm glad to get email from him telling me I'm a loser because my fantasy football team kicker is out for the season injured and I haven't replaced him. I'm glad to get picked on by him and I'm happy I make him laugh. He is the one person I think I miss the most from being at the college.

Next Saturday is Vodkaman's birthday and they are all going out on a gambling cruise out of Lynn, MA. He does their advertising and print collateral, so he's got 8 passes. Doug and I were invited, but we aren't going to be able to go because Doug's going to Chicago for a wedding. And I would be getting back to port at 2am, which isn't fair to any baby sitter anytime. Unless it was my mom or something and she was sleeping her.

So another pool night will have to be scheduled for later. I'd like to do one before the end of the year.

geocaching, job interview, marrying outside the faith

I just got off the phone with the woman I want as my next boss. Carrie -- you can stop worrying about when they are going to call me (grin!) She emailed me over the weekend -- asked when would be good to talk about the position she is hiring for. I emailed her back saying today would be the best day... between 10 and noon. At 10:04 the phone rings.

We just talked for 50 minutes... and I think I made a great impression on HER... she loved my resume, loved the fact I have experience with faculty, thinks that faculty don't listen well (cough, prof MF? hello?) and thinks that I'd be the perfect match because of experience and understanding of them on the whole.

She even remembers my husband from when he worked there, thinks he's a great guy.

The rest of the committee are faculty members with Ph.D.s and THEY are looking for... a Ph.D. to fill the position. She is trying to convince them otherwise. We talked quite extensively about how well I will do the job. The task now is to convince the CIO, the Provost, a Wellness (cough, gym!) teacher, a Biology Prof and an English Prof, all male, that I'll be able to do the job. They want a "peer" who has years of classroom teaching experience and has made the switch to using technology in the classroom. The kind of experience someone like Prof CM has. He is PERFECT for the job, but heck -- he's got tenure, he isn't leaving where he is!

Cross your fingers and let's hope she can tell them that their search for a Ph.D. who wants to leave teaching and teach other teachers to build websites and run blackboard classes is futile -- that I am the best candidate.

She wants screenshots of the stuff I've done, so I'm going to print out online right now an extensive history of MF's class, and the stuff I'm doing for CM, and my portfolio as a designer. I have all kinds of great screenshots from the old college, and I think I can convince them that from a pedogogical perspective I am perfect for the job, without the Ph.D.

This could SO be the job for me.

Another great thing she told me is that in January they are pulling their website 100% BACK in house. They hired a design firm to build, host and maintain the site, and there has been a huge problem with updates and making changes. No one there at the design firm knows the source of update requests -- is this an urgent request, is this a student pulling a prank... so they want it all pulled in house and want to hire someone to be "master of the domain" as it were.

That would also be me.

So we talked about that position -- she thinks I'd be perfect for it if the faculty I interview with cannot get past the non-degree status I currently hold. And there's a good chance I'd rather do that anyhow! So there! Hire me.

What a morning.

I totally forgot that today I was going to go to Salem to have lunch with my friend Rupa -- I'm picking up Geoff early today and have to run to do some errands. I know better than to schedule meetings/lunches on Mondays. I always screw things up and forget.

It isn't like the weekend was full of frivolity or drunkenness. It was incredibly mellow and fun. But it's just me and Mondays. We don't click well together. Not to make light of it, but I think I have Alzheimer every Monday -- I forget everything I'm supposed to do that day or the week upcoming and I need the time Monday to regroup, remember... and get back on track.

We went to Gloucester on Saturday and met up with our friends there, Gregg and Karry and their kids, and Gregg's sister and brother in law. We went to the Gloucester Seafood Festival, it was a hot and beautiful day. Jessica and Ian always hit it off like a house on fire, so I spent a lot of time with the two of them and Doug took Geoff off another direction. Gregg and the rest of the contingent all split up too and we all met back up a while later.

Here's Abby with the biggest balloon hat in history, by the way. She's a hot ticket, that one... We then took Ian geocaching with us! He has been wanting to do this since we saw them in July, so we made a point to offer. At first Gregg wanted to have him "visit with his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin," but after a while he figured it'd be good to have some Ian-free time. Ian has ADD, and is very very VERY excited. At one point in the car he gleefully informed me he was off his meds, as he is every Saturday and Sunday. They give him a break from them and by Saturday afternoon you can tell the difference. I could see it was wearing on Gregg. He's kind of like Squidward to Ian's Spongebob... if you know the show you get the reference.

Thing is with Ian, and with Geoffrey too, -- if you are doing something HE wants to do, attention is not an issue. There is no deficit. He was a pro geocacher. Doug was thrilled to take him. He wanted Jessica to have this kind of response to caching when we started, but she complains about the hiking part, and hates when there is crappy swag in the box. So he gets irritated with her and doesn't like to bother with her on a hike.

Ian on the other hand was so into the GPS, the hikes, the finding. He found both of them (although I knew exactly where the 2nd was and was on my way towards it when he yelled from behind me that he saw it... so he took all the credit. Jerk. Stealin' my glory and all that... pfth). So Doug gave him his nickname.. Eagle Eye.

Here he is posing with his very first cache ever. This one is at Stage Fort Park, right on the ocean. There are huge rocks to climb all over, beautiful views of Gloucester harbor and Magnolia. We spent a good deal of time just climbing around on the rocks and having billy goat style fun.

The second cache was at Goose Cove, and if you are at all familiar with the drive up to Rockport, MA, it is on your right as you are going up the west side of Gloucester towards Annisquam and Lanesville. There is a little causway before Annisquam (I think it's before...) and the Essex County Greenbelt owns some 26 acres of the land which juts out into the cove, thus creating it.

Here are links to the two we did. Goose Cove and Ryan's Geocache. We were going to do a third but figured that it would be dark by the time we got through finding the cache and we still would have to get back to the car. Ian was crestfallen. But I'm sure we'll get up to do the other two caches on Cape Ann before it gets too cold to be out there on the ocean scouring rocks at Halibut Point or Dogtown... (by the way, this link is to a Harry Chapin song of the same name, one I've never ever even heard).

Dogtown (a more historical link, with a picture of where the cache is near) is one of the first areas of Gloucester that was settled, and later abandoned. It's an area we've never gone to even though we've lived here for a million years and everyone we know hikes there and knows the place like the back of their hand. I am looking forward to doing that cache -- it looks like it would be either as hard as you wanted to make it or as easy, depending on where you park.

Here are some more pictures from our visit to Gloucester and our Eagle Eye Ian Geocache Adventure:

My kids couldn't be cuter here... for a change. They aren't fighting, scratching, screaming or biting. What a beautiful picture. Sigh.

Jessie scaling the rocks at Stage Fort Park.	Jessie making a "Sailor's Valentine" at the Seafood Festival
Ian returns the cache to it's location	Ian and Geoff tear into Goose Cove Cache.

Sunset from Goose Cove -- being on the point and looking west was nice.

supercachers!

Jessie took this of me, it's a nice picture except for the fact I'm fat and wearing a spongebob squarepants Tshirt.

Sunday we went to Brian's for a BBQ and football game viewing. It was fun to hang with everyone. Even Honey came, and usually she doesn't. She's so pregnant and cute. Geoff got married again, to Brian's daughter Alyssa. A neighbor girl performed the ceremony in the playhouse part of the swingset. We watched from the windows and laughed at them -- they stood across from each other holding hands and gazing lovingly at each other while the other little girl pronounced them man and wife. I didn't see any kissing. Later, Alyssa told me they were playing Sleeping Beauty and Geoff was the prince who woke her from her death-sleep, so they had to get married.

Brian quipped to me that there was no dowry whatsoever. We noted that covering on the playhouse made a nice chuppa, or they could move over into the Sukkot sukkah, which was at the top of the driveway. We were going to run out there with a glass for them to stomp on but were too lazy.

Brian and his family are very seriously Jewish... (no kidding, right? I mean, how many people do you know who call themselves Jews who actually build a sukkah? Seriously. None. You don't. You are Jewish and you don't. I know. Really).

I doubt that they'd ever allow Alyssa to marry an evangelical goy like my son. But we had a good laugh at them, and they make a cute couple. Alyssa is small and slight with gorgeous huge black-brown eyes and curly brown hair, and she looks up at you through her eyebrows and has the sweetest little pout. Geoff is so Aryan, blonde, tall, strapping, strong, not an ounce of fat on him... They looked hysterical getting hitched in the yard. What a funny thing if something like that ever happened.

I bet Brian would let Geoff take her to a school dance or something. But he'd be up pacing the floor all night. As for Geoff already being married -- I anulled that one. When Victoria moved out of the house nextdoor, Victoria left Geoffrey. I'm the judge on the case, and I signed the paperwork.

Victoria thinks they're still married. Geoff has moved on. And I'm glad that he has found new love with a family I adore.

---

I just called Brian to tell him about my phone interview because he is the top of my reference list, and I asked him outright about Alyssa marrying a goy. He told me absolutely not. He and his wife haven't had this conversation, after all, the girl is 4 so it hasn't been a thought or concern, but he knows that her bashert would not be Geoff or any other non-Jewish kid. He also said he's going to give her a ration of Jewish Guilt in regards to marrying, dating or even fantasizing outside the faith. He's right as a man of his faith. And I have no problem with that. But I did joke that he needs to be cautious about his brainwashing against goy boys, that he could cause Alyssa to go all Hebrew Taliban on the world.

We're so open with our relationship as super jew and super (sorta) christian that I love these kinds of discussions with him. Wouldn't trade this friendship for anything.

Alright. I've been at this for an hour. With many interruptions. I've got to go to the market now, buy our supplies for the week, clean Geoff's room, pick him up, go to the bank, get his glasses... yadda yadda. I feel like I need a break already!

Michael on Wheels, Abby's birthday

Everyone is really upset about the beached whales down on the Cape. Yesterday, about 50 pilot whales beached themselves in Dennis, MA. Volunteers from experts to vacationers came to help keep the whales moist and comfortable until the tide came up enough that they could be pulled back out to sea. Experts were keeping an eye on them, expecting that they may try it again.

Well, they did. And they succeeded.

This time 40 more whales, give or take, managed to beach. Some died on their own, others had to be euthanized. Regardless, a lot of people are incredibly devastated that this happened.

To me, I have mixed feelings.

I think whenever anything happens like this en masse that it is sad to see, but part of me believes they had their reasons. I kind of liken it to cult suicides. No, don't laugh. Seriously. I think that sometimes groups of people, or groups of ... whatever, get the notion that something is so wrong with their world that they commit suicide in bulk.

Or perhaps someone in the group perhaps was sick, the leader or patriarch/matriarch, and they followed to death. Or, perhaps all of them were sick... the first day they all wanted to die but they were stopped by humans who wanted to prevent it. But they were serious, hell bent for sand, so they went to another part of the Cape and succeeded.

Is the notion of suicide alien to species aside from humans and lemmings? I don't think so.

My buddy Chad (the one expecting the twins whom shall be nicknamed "The Bus" and "Slash" during football season much to our glee) is a marine biology guy. I should pose these questions to him.

I guess they've got expert scientists coming from all over to study this one. In December of last year a large group of whales beached down the Cape, but the efforts to rescue were minimal.

Not enough tourists from Ohio who wanted to help, and the water was too damn cold in December.

But it all got me to wondering... if I knew someone or a bunch of someones contemplating suicide would I talk them out of it or try and help, or would I say "Knock yourself out, pun intended," and wish them a speedy and non-messy demise? That's all something to chew on, isn't it?

---

Next topic. But sort of related.

A few years back, a friend of mine from college was in an horrific car accident. He's now in a wheelchair, for good. I honestly haven't seen him in 10 years, and of the last decade about 7 of those he's been on wheels.

He came to visit on Sunday, and I was so glad to see him, and to be honest, so blown away by how able and adept he is with that chair. He said that a few years ago he was bedridden almost all day, and now he is up 8-12 hours a day. He drives that chair around with such precision, he's still got his wicked sense of humor.

He seems to have it all together and he's such an amazing person to me. I'm happy he is here.

I'm more than impressed by him, I'm humbled by his abilities. I'm happy to see him around.

Part of me says, if that were me, I'd have wished that I could die. And I probably would try. But he makes me rethink those thoughts... and I see new life and hope where "beaching" would have been the first and only option I would consider. Michael teaches me life lessons just by being, and I give thanks and am joyful just to know him.

One of the professors I'm working with this summer gave me a copy of "Tuesdays With Morrie," the book of Morrie Schwartz' battle with ALS, written by his former student Mitch Albom. I read it in one day and I was devastated and joyful all in the same breath by the time I finished. Lessons in living -- Morrie had time to think, consider, build, work on teaching, and in his life and his death makes "beaching" seem so not the thing to do. What an amazing man.

So, in short -- I think if I were down the Cape yesterday I'd have made an attempt with those midwestern tourists and those New England Aquarium workers. And I'd be sad to see the next day that they managed to accomplish what they set out to do.

But I'd accept.

Lessons in living, after all, sometimes carry lessons in dying, too. Alright, enough sad stuff.

On Saturday we went to Abby's birthday party. Here are a couple pictures.

Jessie and Ian, peas in a pod. Friends since before birth... They are two wackos.	Geoff made friends with some of the kids, here he and Philip share a moment of calm, quiet reflection.
This picture cracks me up. Abby, the birthday princess, looks like she's going to cry, but really I just called her name and she looked up at me... then right after I snapped this she burst into a huge grin. I didn't get that shot.	The neighbor dog, not the family dog, Pilot. He followed us over when we came up the driveway, and just stayed at the party. He was so sweet and well behaved. And you know I'm such the other people's pet whore.
The piñata awaits it's destiny... It was awesome. What a cool dragon.	Karry orchestrates the whacking line. Birthday girl first, then up through the age ranks to Jessie and Ian!
Whacking complete, the kids rush in to pick up their loot	"Look at what I got in my goodie bag, mom!"
Jessie and Brittany bonded pretty tightly (her dad's a big Steelers fan too! WOOOO!) Brittany is SO cute, it's hysterical. I got a really cute picture of her and Abby, cousins in crime, on Karry's camera.	Ian trying to convince us that we didn't have to leave yet, that there were all sorts of good reasons for us to stay, and Jessie can continue to hang out and walk the neighbor's dog with him... he was very sad when we drove away. It broke my heart to see him in my mirror behind us, standing there. Notice Geoff on the rock in the background. He was stuck there for a while. heh heh heh.
And this is Ian with said neighbor dog, Meco (he spelled it for us a bazillion times, saying it was "Me Company, Me Co., Meco. Get it?" He is getting paid to take the dog out, walk her and spend time with her. They seem to be getting along like a house afire. He's doing a super job with her. I wish he lived near us because I'd pay him to take care of Kinger and Jack when we go to Chicago!

Today I had meetings with both professors at the College, had lunch with the boys, stopped in to see my Rupa but she was not at her desk (sorry I missed you my Rupa!) and I got home in time to do dishes and make dinner. My mom is visiting, so I should go be sociable.

On Friday Doug pulled all the muscles in his back and he's almost back to normal. He looked pretty miserable halfway through the party on Saturday and spent most of the day in bed Sunday and yesterday. Today he's walking straight and not crying out loud every time he moves around. So I'm hoping he'll be sound as a pound and we can go do something fun. I have a ton of professor work to do, and a new site to design (woooo! But again, it's for free for someone I love, but it means a lot to build my portfolio and do something good for someone). So there's a lot to do in the next two weeks. Did I mention I'm TEACHING all week next week 8:30am to 4pm at the college! I'm going to be one worn out girl. Today was the closest day to a full work day I've put in since January! Criminy! So wish me luck and strength. I'll need it.

Okay. Off to be sociable.

My Life As Written By Others part 2

Before I write about Bonnie and Laurel, please note that family is as important as friends when it comes to writing a life. I already embarrassed the hell out of my sister with one of these, back on her birthday. That, theoretically, is a "life as written by others" chapter, but it stands alone. I've not yet gotten to writing on my parents, grandparents etc. But I will. So before you go thinkin' only my friends from highschool and college matter, stand yourself corrected and give me time.

In college, one can be burdened with roommates. Other times, you are blessed with them. I have a couple of each type. The best of the bunch (I've had Bonnie, Mary, Laurel, Diane, Suzie and Helen as the names sharing my door) are by far Bonnie and Laurel.

I met both of them in 1984, Bonnie was assigned as my roommate, and Laurel lived in the dorm next door but quickly became my best friend and I would room with her at other times. Between the two of them, I was kept sane, had tons of fun, and we all got along well. We lived together in 1985-86 and had a great time. They've been a blessing in my life, in times of trouble and laughter. Sniff. Weep. Tito, hand me a tissue. Here is to Bonnie and Laurel.

Bonnie
Bonnie and her little sister Erin, circa 1985	Steve, my then boyfriend, Bonnie and I seem to think that shredded documents make nice hats.
Bonnie is the oldest of four, was my roommate for freshman and sophomore year, junior year she lived with Melissa, and we somehow ended back up together in a sweet suite in Wilson Hall for her senior year, my second junior year, before I went off to Oregon. Bonnie says of the document shredding hair picture "No wonder I couldn't get a date in college! Jeeesh, look at the outfit!" We referred to our room freshman year as "the Swamp," just like on M*A*S*H, and she was BJ, I was Hawkeye, and crazy Mary was definitely Frank Burns. She was given a hamster by a guy named Glenn, who I believe at the time was madly in love with her, even though I was starting to develop a painful crush on him. The hamster's name was "Boof" and we kept it hidden in our room, but people (including our R.A. Cheryl) knew about it and would come play with it. We were narked upon by a weaselly sniveling midget named Maureen and Boof had to find a new home. She went to Bonnie's parents' house, and lived her days in happiness and love, with Bon's brother and two sisters. In addition to all the fun we had wearing shredded paper and making fun of Mary and her teeth, her bangs and her shopping habits, and hamster smuggling, we shared with Laurel the joys of living right next to the trash storage (it was under our bedroom and stank to hell in the warm weather). Dubbed "the sin bin" due to the fact that people would sit on it and make out (which STILL to this day grosses me out) the trash container became the site of many a late night yelling match between ourselves and Kathy and Mike, who would sit and declare their undying love. They are since divorced.
The lovely and distinguished Bonnie, dahling.... yes dahling. Love the sophistimicated eybrow raising, and slightly parted lips here. Dahling...	The flippant and ridiculous Bonnie (I laughed my ass of f when I found this picture! she is so damn cute! I think we were modeling stuffed animals for Vogue magazine (see her bed, under her left arm? That was the impetus...)
Bonnie always was, and always will be the hippest chick I know. Even with a stuffed animal on her head. She's the bomb. Her brother in law noted that at her wedding in his best man toast saying something along the lines of, "she's hip, she's gorgeous, she's smart... what's she doing with my brother?" She may not have had a lot of dates in college (which really doesn't make any sense. I mean hell, a fat chicka like me got two pretty decent boyfriends in the 6 years I spent there, and she didn't get one full time one the whole time? What the hell???) she did score a wicked cool husband and baby and has a sweet and fun life. Why? Because she's a class act. With a wicked sense of humor. Combined, she's unstoppable. Simply put. Dig her Nike leather sneakers here in the picture to the right. She and Mark are doing this weird pose thing that we used to always do with hands on hips and elbows pushed foreword. I think Paul invented it. There was a funny voice you had to do with it too. I have a million pictures of Bonnie. A lot more than I do of Laurie. Not sure how that works out... There is a roll of film that I lost before I ever got it developed that I wish to hell I had... we spent a weekend down at my Grandmother's house in Falmouth, and took a winter driving tour of the Cape Cod National Seashore. I distinctly remember taking a picture of her by a beautiful lighthouse, standing by a sign that urged her not to stand there because she would plummet to imminent death. It was funny at the time... but it's a mental memory instead of a Kodak Moment for me. And last but not least, she was the creator and proud owner of "The Chicken Of Death," which I kept with me for several years, pictured here riding my moped with Tim N. Nicknames: Bubba, Bubbles, Bonnie Fitzgerbil Songs Associated: "Bad Sneakers," Steely Dan Mostly Appreciated for: Putting up with me when Steve dumped me and I stayed in bed for five days mopey and sad; pulling me out of that bed and making me live; being my maid of honor and one hot babe at my wedding, especially when I nailed her in the face with the bouquet...; yelling at people on the Sin Bin; inviting us to her parents' house for one of the best weekends ever (seen below); keeping me included in her life during and after college even though I'm a social dud and nowhere near as hip and cool as the people she knows in the city; naming "The Way Out Inn." At Casa Bonnie in perhaps 1985? back row: Mark, Paul, Bonnie, Steve couch: Laurel, Pappa Fitz, Erin, Mamma Fits, Me

Laurel
Laurel in the companion picture that goes with mine up top. I took hers, she took mine. Summer 1985.	Laurel in the woods. You can't see it but she has a small child strapped on her back from her nanny days... 1985
Laurel and I were in a gym class together Fall Semester, Freshman year, 1984. That's where we met. She lived in the dorm next to mine, and many of the people she was getting to know freshman year would become some of my better friends in the Pre-Doug Years. She was all about business -- a tough girl full of the kind of energy living "20 miles north the mason dixon line" brings. We had to do a battery of pushups, situps and pull ups, and we were paired together by the gym teacher. We, mostly Laurel, kicked ass at everything we needed to do, so much so that Jerome named us "Animal Women," and when people would see us coming, they'd call out "Hey Annnneeeeemaaaaaallllllll!" Laurel was the proud owner of the "molest me" shirt, a white linen blouse that was irresistible to men. I borrowed it on many occasions while dating Steve. She also owned some of the coolest cars -- the two most notable are the Pelton Mobile, named after a co-worker of hers who was a complete toad, and Augie, a car similar to Doug's Chevy Monza, which I learned to drive on. Augie was a lovely powder blue, and one day while we were driving up Rte 22 in Beverly a wasp flew in the car. Both of us were terrified of wasps/stinging things, so she just about treed the car up in someone's yard as both of us bailed from the vehicle. She barely got it into park and we spilled out into this guy's yard. He came out and we were screaming like ninnies. He killed the wasp. I do believe.
Nice Jacket Laurel... I wonder what ever became of that thing, purchased 2nd hand in Manchester for 2 bucks. I love this picture.	I was supposed to be her bridesmaid in her wedding, and was having my dress made for me when she was home, having graduated a year early. Like I said, she was all about business. She called me distraught to let me know the wedding was off, that her fiancee had changed his mind. A couple years later, she eloped with another guy, Christopher, and pissed me off to no end. But I got over it, and she's still one of the coolest and most inspiring people I know. She has two kids, her oldest was born the day Doug and I got married, so she wasn't able to be in the wedding party, or even be there. Sarah will be 11 on Saturday.
As I mentioned, I have a lot more pictures of Bonnie than of Laurel from back in the day. The simple truth is that Laurel was always behind the camera, and took some amazingly beautiful pictures. She was a wonderful photographer, and I have the evidence to show for it. I will always think of her when I drive down Grover Street (our favorite street!) in Beverly. Especially with the windows down. In the late spring. When the lilacs are out. Nicknames: Laurie, Animal Woman, Hoatzie, 'zapple. Songs Associated: "You can close your eyes" James Taylor; anything by Yes that you can go "fwanna fwanna fwanna na NA NA" along with Mostly Appreciated for: Constantly consoling me when Steve and I would break up; telling Steve that he needed to break up with me for good instead of just constantly allowing me to weasel my way back into relationship with him (at the time, I was pissed, but with hindsight... whew! Thank you, Laurel!); giving me the second worst hair cut of my life; how she played 6- and 12-string guitar; being left handed; the molest-me shirt and other items in her wardrobe which were at my disposal at anytime; having the same size feet as me; her ongoing smarts, beauty and strength; dedication to God and Jesus which humbles me.

My Life As Written By Others part 1

The picture of me and Doug from yesterday is just a freaking riot. I can't believe that was 1988, new wave was on its way out, Grunge hadn't quite been born, hair bands were starting to suffer a receding line, and we were a bunch of hippie kids living in the mountains reading Jacques Ellul, Dostoyevsky and David James Duncan.

By the way, I highly HIGHLY recommend David James Duncan to everyone I meet. Go. Read him instead of me. Now now now!

{{{By the way, even more, he was a guest lecturer and teacher at OE in 1996, and I urge you, if you don't run to the bookstore or Amazon NOW, at least go read that article I point to there. Sorry I wasn't there that year. I may have different political beliefs, stances, desires than he has... but wvoof! The man's pen writes my soul and I'm forever impressed. So go. Read, then, come back here, wouldya.}}}.

Mr. Duncan sees his life written by water. I see mine written by friends, and have been thinking a lot about them lately. From Frank, who I barely knew but wish I did know better, to Dave, who I knew before he wasn't Dave anymore... And, I have the new scanner and a pantload and a half of pictures.

So today's entry is about a few people who write my life... and some bad 80s hair. This is just a start, if you aren't mentioned here, you simply weren't in the pile of pictures right next to the computer.

This entry is for Christopher, Smitty, Scott, Shunta and my love, my life, my greatest writer... Douglas.

Smitty, Chris and Doug stalk Bob Dylan I think it is 1989, and Doug went home for the summer. He took a couple classes at the University of Pittsburgh and did some serious hanging out with some guys he was and still is friends with. The infamous Christopher J. Kelly, and Smitty, AKA Scott. They went to see Dylan, did the typical tailgating thing, got word that he was staying at the Vista Hotel in Dahn-Tahn, so the went there to see if they could see the Master himself. They didn't, but... the pictures still remain. They have been a big part of my life, and are more important to me than I think they realize sometimes. They were in our wedding party, and I wish they didn't live so far away. Here's a glimpse at a day in their lives with Doug "Back In The Day."
	CJK seems to be thinking "Oh the horrors, the horrors! I have to have my picture taken with the Smitster and he's attempting to take my beer! I'll smile and look polite but after the click, I pummel the bastard! Quick Doug! Snap the picture!" In spite of Chris' death thoughts, Smitty still lives today.
	Smitty aloofly stands with Doug leaning against the same Chevy Monza that he did bless once at a different Dylan show, memorialized on Doug's T-shirt. Doug looks like a foxy intellectual hippie kid, and I dig him!
	Smitty and Doug stalking Dylan outside of the Vista Hotel. Geoffrey wears his baseball hats like Doug does here, and looks a lot like him. Man, you can see how cute he is and why I dug him so much (still do, even though he doesn't wear that wicked cool 80s digital watch!)
	I love this picture. I hardly recognize these clowns. Check out the Vista Marquis in the back there. They really DID go to stalk Dylan! Chris' grin has always and forever cracked my shit right up, Doug's a cute assed little honey, and I wish I had been there instead of back here in Massachusetts. Sniff. Weep.
"You Can Steal Locks in Amellicka!!!!!!!" Scott in Chicago's dad worked for a company that did a lot of business in Japan. Shunta came to visit as Scott's guest for like a month and lived on Scott and Doug's dormroom floor, without the blessing, consent or knowledge of the college we were in. We had an unbelievable amount of fun with Shunta, and these pictures prove it. The quote at the top is from an hysterical anecdote which reeks of western misunderstanding of eastern dialect. We went out drinking one night, and Shunta needed to get a smoke on, so we all went out for a walk down to the swimming pond. It was butt-cold freezing out, and Shunta was laughing his ass off hysterically. He said something to Scott, like, "Scott, you caster wok innamellicka!" Scott answered, "You can cancer wock in America? I don't get it." Shunta repeated it, and Scott said "You can steal locks in Amellica? Shunta, you make no sense." We were laughing at us, but the very drunk Shunta really wanted us to understand him. Getting frustrated, he finally sang it, and we figured out he really wanted us to know that: YOU CAN STILL ROCK IN AMERICA!!! God Bless the friendship making, gap-bridging and communication misunderstanding healing power of 80s hair metal bands! We still say to each other things like "You can steer rocks in Amellica..." just for fun, and to remember our friend Shunta.
	Shunta, Doug and I get ready to go for a walk. No smoking on campus, Shunta was an avid smoker, and we would go out in the woods and walk with him, and try and talk... towards the end of his stay, it was very easy. At first, we had NO clue what the hell this guy was talkin' about...
	What is Doug pointing at? Why is Shunta the only one mugging for the camera? Wake up Scottie! This picture cracks me up. I think we took it right after the "Steal lock in amellicka" discussion that almost set back anglo-asian relations 200 years.
	Oh my God is this picture funny or what. Check out Agrey in front. He is Kenyan, and was as avid a drinker as a guy could be. He was obviously tanked... and I love how he looks like he belongs in another picture entirely, not this white kids in a bar shot. Shunta is there in back, next to him is Derek, who was from Indonesia, Scott with his fist up in some sort of white-boy cool fist-making pose. And we have NO fucking idea who that guy in the denim jacket is/was/could be. And I'm all curly and cute. I don't look like I belong there any more than Agrey.
Agrey lived across the hall from Doug and Scott, and Derek lived next door from Agrey. It was sometimes hard, but the Kenyan, the Indonesian (who spoke the best, clearest english of them all) and Shunta would try and discuss religion, God, America and all sorts of other international ex-patriate topics in Doug and Scott's room. What a fun time. They got along like brothers, and I really had a blast hanging with them. I totally wonder where Agrey and Derek are today. Not to mention our Shunta. We saw him one other time after we moved to Atlanta, his cousin T.C. was living in Atlanta, and took us out one night because we had NO money. I have a really cool picture someplace of Shunta with our stupid cat Linus. I can't put my finger on it right now though. Scott in Chicago rounds out or guy side of the wedding party, and is another big writer of my life. When I first got email, so did he. We probably spent more working hours writing each other and making up these ridiculous stories and cracking ourselves up all day every day. We got paid while doing that. When he left his job, I was crushed... I was afraid we'd never regain that level of email writing frivolity, but oh, I was wrong. It followed us through a couple different addresses, and helped pass many a dull day at a desk. He's getting his doctorate now. He's a supergenius. I love him dearly. He has a laugh that is high and infectious, laughs through his teeth and grins and squints like a madman, and makes you laugh with him. I miss laughing with him daily. But I wish him all the luck ever while he does that dissertation.
Candids from our wedding. I have thousands of wedding pictures. Some day, perhaps I'll do a wedding album, but I specifically wanted to post these two pictures.
	This picture is actually world-renowned. Or is it world renown? I forget. Shoot me for misuse of the language. That's CJK in my wedding veil after the wedding. I love this picture. It is my favorite picture of him of all time. I plan on making copies for his children, when he has them, so they know their dad.
	You will notice a little somethin' somethin' on the noses of both Scotts here. I was drunk. I admit it. I went around to the three men in our wedding party, and put dollops of butter cream cake frosting on each of their noses. I told them that they had to wear them the rest of the day or else. And it was because I loved them that they were given dollops of frosting.
I distinctly recall dolloping Christopher's nose in the middle of the hall near the cake, I think I was talking to him and Bonnie, or perhaps it was my sister. He told me "I love this frosting, and I am going to wear it for the rest of the day and I will KILL anyone who wipes it off my nose, I swear. Kill them." We laughed and talked another minute or so, then my mother in law came out of nowhere with a napkin, wiped Chris' nose, and said "You've got frosting on your nose and it looks silly," and she spirited away. Chris had been in mid sentence when she did that. He stood there, stunned, not knowing exactly what to do. I think I peed my pants, well, my dress. It was priceless. I believe he wanted to slay her. But, note the woman still lives. I like these little closeups because Scott (from Chicago) has his gay 80s plastic glasses on. And I totally dig his Zeke beard. Luckily Mrs. Scott managed to get him to trim the thing down and look more stylie, while still maintaining that Oregon Extention spirit by keeping it! Smitty here has this "are you happy, woman?! you make me look like a TOOL" facial expression. I love the smirk. He's killah funny. Well that's it for now. I've got the scanner and tomorrow, I think I'll find more funny crap to scan. Mwah ha haaaaaa. There are grandparents, parents, college roommates, kids... more friends. Dang. There are so many to think and write about. That's why I keep the journal.