The Out of Towners

We haven't really been out of town for a while, for more than a day trip anyway. Gosh, I think the last time we really went anywhere is when we were in Oregon last summer!

Well, much as I love Idaho, and as contented as I was to be homebound for quite a while, once I settle in, I have to escape the environs, if you will, and go somewhere quite different.

Thankfully before I did our taxes I planned a trip. (Mr. President, I do support you, but do you have to pay for the stimulus on my back alone, I ask you? J/K but it feels that way this year.)

For years, TH and I have talked about going to a NASCAR race. For years, we have not done so. Then, while in Reno last May, some friends who go every year mentioned that they had slashed ticket prices due to the economy.

Ah, NASCAR. I get weird looks for liking it - my boss said somewhat timidly this morning, "Oh, is that a sport?" Here's the thing, kids. It's damn hard to drive a car on a banked track at 150 plus miles per hour. I have been 125 on a straightaway in my Camaro (Mom, please ignore most of this paragraph) and that is much, much different, but it gives you a slight idea of how fast things could go wrong. And yes, you can like NASCAR and be college educated, somewhat liberal in your politics, have Jane Austen as one of your favorite authors and know who Yo-Yo Ma is. So there.

So, we started nosing around. Packages are way expensive, but I'm a do-it-yourself kind of gal and found that with one plane ticket for free, booking a hotel room through Hotwire (and, we ended up at the Stratosphere, which really isn't bad) and finding a company that didn't ask for your right kidney to shuttle you to the racetrack and back we could do it fairly inexpensively.

We're flying down Saturday, back Monday night. Our only splurge on the trip (since the rest of it is now paid for) is dinner at this place on Saturday. I was thinking of a show, but then my new Packer blog buddy Jersey Al told me how much it was (I was close, but not enough) and I went "never mind"! It will be fun though. We really didn't go anywhere for our wedding anniversary in December so this is in place of a big dinner then.

Then Sunday - the race! While our friends from Reno are unfortunately not going this year, my friend Renee (the Mom of our longtime babysitter now bride S), her husband, and a bunch of their friends, some of whom we know and love are going. They park their RVs there - in fact, I'd like to bet they are already ensconced at the track since time trials have started. We'll hook up with them Sunday and if our seats totally suck and it's cold/rainy (yes, it's supposed to rain Saturday at least in Vegas), I'm hanging out with Renee in the RV and having a beer.

My hope, of course, is that I will see this handsome pair in the winner's circle at the end:

Ella's a little bigger now, but her daddy's just as handsome. Go Jeff Gordon!

A Wonderful Life

I know I've not been a fountain of optimism on this blog lately. Well, you're going to have to put up with one more dose of negativity, and Lord knows I hope it's the last for a while.

TH got up this morning to make lattes, as he always does, and much to our dismay found our beloved dog, Margarita, had died during the night. She was 11, would have been 12 in April, and yes, for a Labrador, that's on the upper end of the scale. She had arthritis in her hips pretty badly, but other than that and a general slowing of her activity level, she was in fairly good health. She'd just come through her last checkup in January with good results beyond her known mostly old-age related issues.

She was the biggest pain in the ass as a puppy you could think of. The first thing she did when my Mom brought her in our house at 2 months was poop and pee on the kitchen floor. I was about 3-4 months pregnant. You can imagine my joy in having to take care of a puppy when I was exhausted. But of course she was so stinking cute and we grew to love her in spite of (sometimes because of) her sometimes Marley-esque activities.

As she matured, she became a sweet and lovely dog. She loved people, her family, especially her boys (Big Bit in particular), she listened, she didn't dig or chew and she was very intelligent. Last summer she actually caught a squirrel (quite by accident I think) and you would have thought she was a pup again, she was so proud of herself. She was loyal, bossy (she would snatch her sister's stuffed animals when she walked in the door).

Her mother, who some friends owned, died at the same age she was now, I think, and had far more health problems for far longer than our pooch. She didn't have a prolonged illness and I hope didn't suffer at all, or if so only very briefly. So I know she was lucky in that respect. But, damn it, we're going to miss her.

And yesterday was National Margarita Day. I kid you not.

Love you, Pookums.

Talk Thursday - Spin

I haven't blogged much lately - I would say I don't know why, but I do know. For years I've been preaching to myself "simplify" because my world seems to be in a perpetual spin. There is something of an ebb and flow to this, but for the most part, I feel like I'm on a merry-go-round and can't get off.



First of all, of course, there's work. The job's not terribly difficult, most days, and I've made some emotional adjustments so I can handle it better, but I struggle between thinking I should work a regular 8-5 schedule (for the most part) and the flexible schedule I'm currently on. It sounds great - every other Monday off - but the extra time I'm at work in the other days seems to throw me off. If I could just get up in the morning, I could get to work earlier and I'm sure the days wouldn't seem so long.

Then, there's life! TH is in Portland this week for work - may I mention how much better things worked for me when I was the one that traveled for work? Little Bit has been pretty good, but he likes to trot out his rebelliousness at the moment it's least needed - when getting ready for school, church, etc.

I've taken up piano since Christmas - TH gave me a lovely keyboard. I've always wanted to play, and enjoying lessons with friend Allen, but it's another thing I have to do everyday.

I've also been doing the Wii Fit the last few weeks - at least 30 minutes 5 times a week. Yet again, another thing I have to do.

That doesn't include laundry, shopping and all that stuff that just has to be done.

I haven't blogged, haven't really read blogs, haven't e-mailed Psam back and she probably thinks she pissed me off (she didn't, she has really good insight like her Mom), I have just run on the treadmill.

For Lent, you have to give something up (well, you don't in my church, but being more thoughtful about your life and relationship to God is strongly encouraged). I'm giving up The Spin. What does that mean exactly? I have 40 days to figure it out. I'll keep you posted.

I Think About You

It's gone so fast...from this:

To this:


"When I look at this world, I think about you...eight years old, big blue eyes and a heart of gold"... - Collin Raye.

Happy Birthday, my adult. Sigh.

On A Lighter Note

Okay, there has been way too much doom, gloom and introspection on this particular part of teh interwebs lately.


Today, because I'm sure I'm not moving, and I think I'll have a job for at least three more years because that's when the lease on our office space runs out (I'm not kidding, that's my cynical self talking but it's usually not far wrong), I sprung for a toy for myself.


"Sprung" is an operative word, mind, because I got it for $9.99. But, my Crackberry habit is re-established as of Friday. World beware.


The last time I had one of these addictive toys, my job paid for it. I wanted one, and my job required it, but I had no idea how fast I would become a fan of this small device. TH and The Bits were not such big fans, particularly the time I had a "screaming" argument via e-mail with the Co-CEO of the LLC we worked for in Utah. Because, you see, I was standing in line at Disneyland. That's when they decided I'd had enough. Everytime I picked it up when off work from then on, I had one to three sets of eyes looking darkly in my direction.


When I got the job in Idaho, I thought I would get a Palm as part of my new job, everyone at my level or above has one. However, my boss, in a misguided bout of either economy or enforcing work/life balance, said "Oh, you don't need one". I underwent at least three months of serious withdrawal. I had to pay attention even in boring meetings. I couldn't keep abreast of Jazz scores at my convenience (I fondly remember tracking the playoffs in Singapore and updating my co-workers on how it was going - we were all avid fans). I couldn't have someone call me to get me out of a boring meeting. I couldn't make scathing comments about someone right in front of them (yes, sad to say, I did that sometimes in Utah. But Sybil deserved it).


We have had some need over the last several months at times for at least a web connection. We got TH a data package, but he has an old RAZR and it is pretty sub par at best. So, today I orderded my new baby:

I know, it's shallow to get pleasure out of material things. But a lot of my work clothes are from Fred Meyer and until lately I got my hair cut at SuperCuts. So it's not like I'm throwing money down the sink all the time.

And, TH wanted me to get it. Oh, ye of short-term memory loss.

Talk Thursday - Long Time Gone

"You're a long time gone...keepin' your secrets for too long. Baby, you ain't half of what you used to be....in this dim October sky, I've got no tears left to cry...And I'm finally learning you can't be too strong....I'm a long time gone" - Gin Blossoms, Long Time Gone.

Well, since it's my topic...I'd better write on it.

I went to church Sunday, as I do most Sundays (not all, sadly, in the winter I am a sloth who has trouble rising before 9 when the sun comes up unless it involves going somewhere warm or getting paid to show up to work). As one of the ladies I work with says, I don't go to church so much because I think I have to in order to keep my faith, but I'd hate to see what kind of person I'd be if I didn't go. She said that about her, not me. I think.

I had already sent out the topic, and had some idea of what I would write about. But then it was the Women's service at the church as happens once a year. Yeah, you'd think I'd know that. But I'm not terribly involved other than showing up, worshiping and giving money. Lutherans aren't the most friendly bunch in the world, and while I really like our Pastor, who's in his early 30s and, for a Pastor, fairly liberal in his ideas, I don't fit in with his "group" who are about his age, and I don't fit in with the older people, (i.e. anyone 10 years older than me) because they just seem very comfortable with each other, and despite the fact they've seen my mug on and off for 15 years, they don't seem to interested in pursuing a conversation, and as I've mentioned before I'm shy. (note to Kristi - when Shane has a church, make darned sure you go talk to that nice lady in her early 40's who's standing off to the side and isn't quite sure how to proceed. She'll love you for it).

So, anyhoo, there I am in church, led by the ladies, and very nicely, too. Then the woman who was doing the sermon got up. And, kids, she rocked my world. I'm not quite sure what to make of it. I thought I knew at first, but now I'm not sure how to pull it off.

What I've taken from my experiences a "Long Time Gone" is that you can do something with the best of intentions and be brutally, totally, and completely punished for it. Due to my not being the primary custodial parent the majority of the time since Big Bit started school, I've had everything from people who broke off conversations upon finding out my situation to "family" members saying (though not to my face, of course) that I was probably unfit or at the very least an extremely poor mother for not being in the same town as my child. (Please note, one of these family member should be investigated by Child Protective Services, and I'm not the only person who thinks that. So I thought she had a lot of nerve. No, she doesn't read this, so it's not any of you). I had someone tell me when I announced I was pregnant "Oh (bleep)". I took this as an assumption that I would not be able to keep custody or raise a second child effectively.

In fact, I will note for the historical record, there has never been any allegation I'm unfit. I just had the cojones to stand up for myself, and to some guys, that is enough of a crime.

I knew my truth, why I did make certain decisions and not others. Certain decisions were made by "independent" third parties who at the end of the day didn't seem independent at all. I've made my peace with that part of it, as it were. I don't claim to be without blame. I have plenty and I take responsibility. But I can't stand to even hear EHFH's voice anymore.

The woman, who had also been through a bad divorce, though one with different parameters than mine, said that you have to forgive. Not for the other person, but for yourself. I've heard this before, in other times and places, but this time it really hit me. Whether you believe in Christianity or you think it's bunk, this is a precept that does make a lot of sense.

You see, Friday is Big Bit's 18th birthday. I've been going through this crap for SIXTEEN YEARS. Let me repeat: SIXTEEN years. And while when I got divorced I had no hard feelings as such towards EHFH, he has made it his mission over the last SIXTEEN years to make my life a living hell whenever possible. His actions have pretty much made what affection remained morph into something pretty close to hatred. And while he hasn't always succeeded in his quest, he's succeeded enough to make me more than regret giving him that power. If you add in our married and divorced time, it's coming up on 25 years. That's a lifetime.

So I resolve to forgive on Sunday night. And I'm feeling very "Christlike in my love and forgiveness" to paraphrase the Church (not my Church but "the one true Church"). Then Big Bit calls me last night to talk to me about his FAFSA that has to be filed so he can get qualified for his scholarships, private grants, etc. He and his father are yelling at each other. Not screaming, but yelling pretty loud. I flashback to being afraid, with a two year old in a diaper in my arms, backing up towards a refrigerator, with a very enraged man in my face. I tell Big Bit that I have to get off the phone.

"Call me when you're done". I know it's not serious, honestly. I know they're just both mad, not violent in any way. Big Bit is 6 foot tall and at least 185 lbs. But it gives me the heebie jeebies.

Then, when Big Bit calls back, and I explain that I couldn't stay on the phone because it was creeping me out, he has the raw nerve to say "You aren't good with confrontation".

Oh, I'm good with confrontation, son. I held you in my arms ready to defend you to the end with your dad screaming in our faces. I'm glad you don't remember. I confronted 12 hours of labor only to go through major surgery to have you. And I'm glad I did. I bought my lawyer a freakin' Corvette to try and keep you with me. I'm just not good with screaming.

It's obviously hard to forgive. But it's a long time gone, and I'm tired of secrets. And yelling. It is time to forgive. Wish me good luck, I'm going to need it.

Other than posting pics of Big Bit's graduation which may include pictures of him, this is the last time I will mention that man, forgiveness or no. It's time for that as well.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Well, the good news is I probably won't be asked to move. That makes me very happy.

The bad news? We got the news that certain programs I am associated with are going out to bid. Without really any forewarning or consulting with any of us. The person who should have called to discuss this didn't- who is a much higher authority than any I work with, in Boise period - had their consultant do that. I will not say what I would like to call these people but it isn't pleasant.

The meaning of all this? Well, let's just say ultimately I'm not thinking it's job security for me and those I work with. In the short-term I think things are fine. Not sure long-term and I like to have people treat me and mine with the respect all humans deserve. Even Brett Favre.

I'm not sorry we left Utah. I'm really not. And while it's been a hard adjustment work-wise, I am starting to appreciate the people I work with for what they bring to the table. I just would like to have a job - even a "job" that would have your ordinary amount of politics, stress and heartache instead of doubt, fear and some loathing. I used to have it, so I know it's possible.

Sigh. Guess it's back to the salt mines.

And I have to come up with a Talk Thursday topic. I warn you, it may be a depressing one.