If pictures are worth 1,000 words

...then this link to my flikr should help make up for the fact that I haven't had time to chat.

Aug 10 & 11, in a much needed escape, I drove myself up the coast of California. I want to be alone with my thoughts, away the stress, and back in touch with simple beauty.

a quote from my journal along the way:


At the edge of the Earth, thar may be dragons....
but thar's no cell phone reception!


and I like it that way.

Hope you enjoy the photos. I promise to write more once my big Mouse Project has passed.

Saving Grace

There are days when the office is just hideous, and the workload overwhelming, and you KNOW that you should put every single moment into the project you are working on, but your mind screams for a break...

and that's when the Universe is benevolent and shows you that flick has a brilliant "group" called Dogs in Pools

When I was younger, I had a dog. A beautiful old mutt of a dog, and she LOVED the pool.

These photos, and those memories, brought me the smile I needed today.

Long Live Love!!

wow.... i can tell that i'm swamped with work, becuase i nearly let this date get past me. It wasn't until i was writing August 8th on a report at 6:32pm that i realized....

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY MOM & DAD!

38 years (i think) of love

& all the laughter and challenges that come with it

Vanishing "ly"

As I was driving to work this morning, I was subjected to a moment that is(unfortunately) growing more frequent in number. A moment, an occurrence, a... thing that gnaws on my consciousness, works my last nerve and downright irritates me.

It was a missing "ly".

Two DJ's were having a conversation with someone (sorry, I can't remember who), during which that person commented, "I do that bad."

"LY!" I piped up. "You do that BADLY."

Poor Tag is subjected to my grammar corrections on a regular basis. However, unless I'm asked to proof-read a document or listen to a public speaker practice, I try not to burst out like a schoolmarm for the general populace. (To my defence, I come by it naturally. My mother was a grammar/literature teacher for the first 30+ years of my life, and I was drilled on the ability to articulate both clearly and properly.)

I willingly admit that my sentence structure is not always the best, and my spelling can be downright deplorable. Add to that the fact that I'm slightly dyslexic, and type too quickly for my own good... and I'm sure that you can find more than a handful of errors in the archives of this blog.

However comma I still retain the ability to tell an adjective from an adverb.

For example: the tea can be bad (ill-flavored); the dog can be bad (poorly behaved); the paper can be bad (not enjoyable for reading), but that's probably because it was written (<-VERB) badly.


*sigh* Sorry to rant so, but it hurts my head when I hear it spoken incorrectly.


Helpful links:

Adverbs: definition, adverbs in history and other useful links (including a quiz)


the brilliant lyrics to Tom Lehere's "L-Y"


or best yet, sing along with Lolly, Lolly, Lolly

If it's an adverb we have it at Lolly's!

Bring along your old adjectives too, like slow, soft and sure.

We'll fit them out with our "l-y" attachment

And make perfectly good adverbs out of them!

Deathly Masqerade Teaching Hallows Bash Whirlwind of Activity

or in other words: Why YummyTeece has been MIA in the blogosphere

I'm so tired. Seriously, a body cannot keep up this pace for long, and I'm about at the end of my physical rope. So let me try to catch you up, before I fall into another fog.

LOJ 2007
The annual Labyrinth of Jareth was Friday & Saturday July 13 & 14th. Although I would have loved to go both nights, I simply couldn't prep separate outfits for each night for both Tag and myself. As it is, we only pulled things off as we did because Tag's brilliant assistant offered to make his furry pants (tail included).


I think we did pretty well.


More fairy-folk photo fun can be found here.







Work Party Fun Time
This summer, like last, I headed the committee to throw our annual Employee Bash. Think... you and 5 of your closest friends throw a free-for-all for about 700 people. Only you aren't working with your closest friends. You're hosting the event with the help of a few co-workers who are as bogged down as you are. After weeks of planning, and couple of days just running around like a mad chicken, the event came off without a hitch. The food was well received; we didn't run out of alcohol; the salsa lessons and picture spots were a hit. And after it was all cleaned up, and I had a few drinks with co-workers to chat and make new friends, I collapsed into a heap where I would have stayed for 2 days, if only I didn't have to be up 7 hours later to participate in....

Teaching
I arrive on Saturdays at 9:30, to set up and prep for the 10am class, and once that begins, I'm moving non-stop until 2pm. 4 hours straight of challenging muscle articulations as well as a constant narrative stream, trying to explain the correct posture and what muscles we are currently working. Tag takes the car and goes surfing (just 10 min down the street from the studio). He comes back refreshed and invigorated. I finish feeling renewed, but also like I was just hit by a Mack truck. Needless to say, I let him drive the hour back in traffic to our homestead...

Life at Home
...which by this point in the week, is usually DESPERATE for a cleaning. I begin to sweep and change litter boxes, while Tag may clean the bunny cage, or do dishes. He's also aces with the laundry. This week however, he used the time to forage for a much needed and long overdue AIR CONDITIONER!! Whoo hoo! He spent the rest of the afternoon installing it, while I continued to work on the pigsty we call home. However, once the cool air kicked in, and my legs finally gave out, I fwumped onto our couch and watched an endless supply of CSI.

In fact, it was only once dusk began to fall, and I was sprawled happily did I realize that ...

Deathly Hallows ABSENCE
*GASP* ... my copy of the new HP (with it's "release date delivery" guarantee) was NO WHERE to be found. Already my hard-core Harry Potter compatriots were emailing me with "Let me know when you finish the book. I want to discuss." I began to track furiously, searching Amazon and UPS's website for any details that might help me locate the missing tome. However, twas to no avail. And that's probably best, because it's not like I have anytime to read a 700 page book. *sigh*

Aquarium Member Surf Party
Tag and I are members of the Aquarium of the Pacific, and as such, were invited to their 21+ Adult Surf Party. Alcoholic drinks, a live band with surfy tunes and a gentle child-free stroll around the gorgeous aquarium grounds. Time to pet the bat rays in the touch pond without being interrupted by screaming, crying, or an ice cream being smushed into your side by sticky little fingers who have no attached attention span. Now as tired as I was, I had no urge to go all the way down to Long Beach, but the evening turned out to be well worth it. Peaceful and lovely.

Teece contemplates her margarita by moonlight.

Wrapping Up

With all that behind us now, life can almost return to a normal pace; fraught with work issues and overwhelming schedules. I've still not read Harry Potter. I was over at Amandarin's last night, caring for her cats, and she had left her copy out for me to start. I sat on her couch and opened it... and began dropping off to sleep as I read page 1. I couldn't retain a sentence moments after I'd finished reading it, so I set the book aside and tried not to drool in my semi-comatose state. I hope to begin again this evening and make it at least through the first chapter. However, before that happens I have to pick up dry cleaning and take it to the theatre (oh yes, I'm on 8 weeks of laundry duty for my theatre group. Because I guess had some extra time in my schedule!!! eeek!)

In short:
"please excuse Yummyteece from school/work/blogging/life today as she was tired and not feeling well. Thank you."

Sunday Scribblings: Hair

Ah hair, ever changing, ever growing. Hair allows us to metamorphose, like other creatures in the wild. My hair is the artist's brush with which I paint. Having a mood? Need to reinvent? Hair has a trendous gift of freedom, changing easily at a whim.

I remember helping my grandmother dye her incredibly long thick hair a deep rich brown. It was like a long flowing river of dark chocolate, mysterious and wonderously soft to the touch. I envied her hair, although I would NEVER have the patience to grow mine so long. I cannot committ to one hair style and color for such an extended period of time.

I began dying my hair in high school. People ask me what about my "natural color" and I tell them that I haven't seen it in so long, I can't tell you what it might look like. I point to the roots, coming out deep on my scalp and answer, "it would be something like that, I suppose."

I've been orange, brown, deep brown, red, hot red, auburn, "midnight cherry" and black. Most recently, I bleached it out and became a radient "cotten candy pink". This weekend, I will turn it electric green for the masked ball that I attend each year (don't worry Mom, it washes out.) Someday, I acutally long to shave it all off, and just start over fresh.

Hair is a canvas for expression. It is the easist way to change the girl in the mirror when I need a fresh perspective. Hair can be loud or soft, bright or muted. It can scream for attention, or whisper like gentle velvet in the dark of the night. Hair is sensual and sexy, messy and fun. Style it, spike it, do what you wish (as long as you properly condition and care for it's health). Hair can help you become a master of disguise and a mistress of intrigue. It holds in heat, shields out the sun, gives us a fringe to hide behind on the days we don't feel like meeting someone's eyes. It's touch can be smooth like silk, or bouncy with crisp curls. It seems a source of endless possibilities and sensory experiences.

Glimmer at the end of the day

After another long slog through corporate red-tape and hypocrisy, an email made me remember how good it feels to be apart of 'making a difference'.

Watch the video. Share the Hope. Be a part of the change you want to see in the world.

All in a Day's Blog

It’s not always easy to come up with material for CNR. Life happens all around me, but it’s not all extraordinary or noteworthy. Still, it is my life, and sometimes I like to document its eccentricities.

• Today I passed a VW Bug convertible, painted in the most gloriously loud color that can best be described as Barbie Pink. Now, when I was a kid, Barbie’s car of choice was a Corvette. But this is a Barbie of the now. A fun-loving, energetic Barbie, striking out on her own, with a car that says “I’m hip, I’m quirky… and I’m single.” How do I know the last one? The license plate: DUMT KEN *giggle*

• In the world of counting ones blessings-- I stopped for lunch today at a Burger King nearby. I’ve been trying to stay away from the fast food, but I was in a hurry after my chiro appt, and I thought I’d try a salad or some such. I went inside, instead of drive through, because I’m tired of eating in my car… and more importantly, because I suddenly had to piss like a racehorse. However, the Universe knew that my need was not the greatest. I went into the restroom, only to hear the moaning and groaning of an unidentified woman. Figuring that she might need some privacy, I stepped out, ordered some food (all while doing that “I have to potty” dance), filled my beverage and sat at a booth near the bathroom. A few moments later, I peeked in again (if she wasn’t out, I was going to make a dash for the men’s room). She was emerging from the stall looking as if she was on death’s door. She walked to the sink and began soaking some tissues to press to her face and neck. I slipped in, took a quick pee, and emerged again. She was still at the sink. She was still fevered and sweaty and in her own world. I waited to wash my hands. She suddenly left the water running and bolted back into the stall. I washed and left as fast as humanly possible, all the while thinking “Thank you Universe, that in all my days I’ve never been face down in a semi-clean toilet at a Burger King in a questionable part of North Hollywood. No seriously…..Thank you!”

• And lastly, in the realm of unexplained & unnecessary drama… What is the spiritual point and purpose of ingrown hairs? Seriously, they are painful, unsightly, and annoyingly reoccurring. I’ve spent the money for a series for laser treatments for my lower legs, and the next time I find myself with a truckload of excess cash, I’m going to get myself a session for the bikini area. Don’t worry, I don’t intend to blaze off the “full fifi”. I mean, like it smooth and such, but being the 90 yr old with a constant Brazilian seems like the quickest way to a bad reputation as “Sunnyvale Rest Home’s Hoochie Mama of the Year.”

Women in Art

Three minutes of artistry that is so exquisite, it must be shared.

A Photo Anthology of Style and Pizazz

This week has been beyond busy, but sometimes we just need to do something silly, something self-indulgent, in order to keep ourselves invested and... well... awake at the desk.

So I just spent the past 20 minutes creating a retrospective look at the last 18 months of my hair's various colors and styles.

Confession

There are tons of photos from our time in Palm Springs, and I hope to post them soon. However, i just haven't really been able to sit down and write a good happy vacation post. My mind is rumbling with doubts and issues and frustrations, and I've avoided the written word becuase I'm in no mood to face the grouchies.

I should know better.

A grouchy mind left unexpressed leaks out in dreams and mood swings and after crying the car last night, I had a sleep full of angsty imaginings and disturbing visions. So I'm tossing aside some image of the eternally perky pink-haired girl and just hashing some shit out.

I'm not very happy with me right now.

When I was young, I dreamed of being something more. I loved theatre, and like many young girls, wanted to be that beautiful startlet splashed across movie screens. I loved the fierce and feisty heroines who battled the odds and fought the status quo. Dark and edgy, or just sarcastic and bitter, I laughed at their witty barbs and idolized their passionate fights. When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would often say "Important."

I spent a few years trying to fit in and be "pretty", and when I realized that I didn't work well in that mold, I tried to create my own. I listened to dark, angry music and found release in the fury of dance floors. I felt alive when I was moving and lost when I had to "play along" with every day life. I chatted frequently with imaginary friends and invisible movie cameras that I felt documented my every move. I was always performing for an audience, and tried to make interesting choices.

I fought depression, and frequently lost. I sought out teachers and guides, and fell prey to manipulative and abusive imposters. I had tumultous and destructive love affairs, and although they hurt, I reminded myself that there was no gain without pain, and plunged somewhat melodramtically into the despair of the moment.

I'm sure I was quite tedious at times, but at least I felt original.

As time passed, I realized that life was not always a two-hour, well written saga that ended well as the credits ran. It's cliche, but "there's no one to save you except yourself," and once I embraced that (through years of therapy) I began to make better choices.... or at least I tried to.

I've done a lot of "inner work", and I believe that I am a much better person for it. However, as of late, I've begun to fear that "better" is not necessarily intersting. As of late, I find myself looking in the mirror, completely unimpressed with the person I've become. I wanted to be the femme-fatale, fierce and fiery. Instead, I see a chubby middle-aged woman, with an adequate job and an unremarkable life.

I find myself utterly ordinary... and that's really bothering me.

It's the Little Things...

... that make me laugh; that get me through the day/week.

Tomorrow, I head out to Palm Springs with Tag. He's got a conference to attend at a spa/casino resort. I'll be resting by the pool if anyone needs me. *wink*

However, like many Americans with an over-zealoused office, I must PAY for my vacation in the fact that I must put 5 days of work into a 3 day week. As such, I've been maniacally crazed and overly stressed since the alarm clock went off Monday morning.

Today, that level of nutbar reached a peak when, in a fit of multi-tasking induced flighty-ness, I totally missed a "Breakfast with the Boss" meeting with my Senior Vice President. Yes, I stood up my boss's boss! The one who is a stickler for attendance and takes absences somewhat personally. *headdesk*

I might fall apart completely if it weren't for the little things.... like Annie's Bunny Pasta with Yummy Cheese.

Wait..... it gets even better.

Look at the side of the box.

*giggle*

Better.... Stronger... Faster

Two things about me as a child:
1) I loved me some "Bionic Woman"
2) I was a blind as a bat

I still am quite visually-challenged. For me, it is just a way of life. A thing that has always been. I don't remember a time when I didn't wear glasses. I can look back at pre-school pictures and see that I don't have them. But I don't actually have the memory of not wearing my heavy coke-bottle lenses in cheesy plastic frames.

My optometrist put me in contacts at age 8. Sure, that doesn't sound so remarkable NOW, but remember, this was the late 70's, and back then, such drastic measures were unheard of. (Not to mention, they put me in hard lenses. Not today's "rigid gas permeable" which are so much kinder to the eye). The idea was that the firm lenses would provide some resistance for the cornea, and perhaps retard the speed at which my growing young eyes were deteriorating. However, putting hard lenses into an eye is not the most comfortable feeling, and I was a child. Needless to say, I was not terribly regular about care and cleaning for my lenses and thus I inflicted upon myself any number of corneal abrasions, infections, corneal neovascularization and (my favorite) corneal ulcers (like herpes cold sores in your eyes... so pretty and so much fun!)

In my teen years, vanity won out and I began to utilize and care for my contacts much more. They became a part of every day routine: Wake, stagger to bathroom, reach for case, rub lens with cleaner, rinse off thoroughly (they aren't kidding about that), then put tiny pieces of plastic in eye. Proceed with day.

As I learned the appropriate sterilization and storage techniques, the amount of bodily damage decreased. However, the lens body count continued to mount. One contact actually "popped" and split while in my eye. A few have slipped off the iris & wedged themselves behind the upper eyelid. One contact was knocked out by the draft caused by a Frisbee speeding by my face. My childhood best friend washed another down the drain. One plummeted onto disgusting carpet at Chuck E. Cheese. One oversexed lens leaped out of my eye and into the lap of the boy on whom I was sitting during a 'tween flirting session. Imagine his joy when in my panic, I began pawing his crotch fervently. I'm still not sure he believed me when I said, "No, I'm just looking for my contact"

Because of the state and situation of my eyes and continuously degenerating vision, soft contacts or extended wear are not an option. So I resigned myself for a very long time to the fact that this was the way my optical life operated.

And then the buzz around LASIK began. Science and technology promised to fix and replace that which was no longer useful. With just a few moments of precise laser incisions, and a wham-bam-thank-you-mam recovery time, one might see clearly again.

At first, I resisted... unsure of long term effects and a bit cynical of all this 'new fangled science'. But the more I thought about it over the last year, the more intrigued I became. Of course, it doesn't help that in the last 16 months, my eyes have deteriorated severely again, and the contacts I bought in late '05 (as well as the 'back up' glasses I purchased this time last year) no longer correct me to 20/20. Additionally, my night vision has grown dangerously bad. Halos and glare keep me from focusing on the road, and reading street signs is just plain impossible.

So with my hope and hat in hand, I made an appointment with the local laser eye center. 60 minutes later, after multiple exams and painfully bright pictures of my retina, I was told.... No Go. That's right kids, my prescription is too extreme and my cornea is simply too thin to withstand the surgery. *sigh*

There is one option that might be available. Intraocular lenses (IOL)are tiny bits of plastic placed directly into the eye. As the doctor helpfully explained, a flap in the cornea is cut open and peeled back. The IOL is then attached BY CLAWS to the mid peripheral iris. Doesn't that sound like fun?

The surgery is more intensive than LASIK, requiring a full surgical suite and on-call anesthesiologist. The lenses must be custom made, requiring a number of weeks prep time. The surgery itself takes longer than a LASIK procedure. Recovery time is longer as well, taking as much as 3 - 5 days for full vision to return. Because of this, they only do one eye at a time. So add in an additional 2 weeks between your surgeries, during which time one eye is healing and the other is as crappy as you started with. yay.

Did I mention the implant attaches "by CLAWS"!?!

Did I mention that your very own Steve Austin eye will cost you 2 - 3x more than LASIK?

*sigh*

I didn't realize how much I wanted LASIK until I was told it wasn't an option. I didn't realize how tired I am of not being able to see, until it once again became the only way to be. And I didn't realize how really scared I am of eventually ending up without any vision at all.... until now.

Tag recently bought me a beautiful little digital camera, and I find myself carrying it with me at all times right now. It's like I want to capture every image that moves me and burn it on to my memory's retina.... so that further down the road, I can, if needed, flip through the photo album in my mind.

Bionics remain, in my world at least, just a piece of science fiction, suitable for vintage TV.

Haiku for Tag

...who is currently on a businesstrip in San Antonio

It is hard to wake

Next to your empty pillow

Grey gloomy mourning

Each little Slug here, cutting a rug here..

Ah, the joy of a holiday weekend. A rare occassion when, despite having two different jobs, I still manage to have at least a 2 days off IN A ROW.

Tag and I decided to go to the Long Beach "Aquarium of the Pacific" for one of those glorious days. Although it was slammed with folks who had the same idea, we still enjoyed every moment. From petting the sharks and rays in the touch tanks, to watching a touching 5 min movie on the majesty of whales...it all excited and amazed us.

I love the Ocean. I love water. I love the idea that there are wild and wonderful creatures down there, so strange and exotic. I love that there is still so much unexplored. So much of our living waters and their resident denizens remain a mystery, and I hope they continue to be so for many years to come.

This lemony beastie was one of my favorites.... look how he's acutally holding himself in place, between the rock and the coral. Like a tiny Samson, pushing at the pillars of the temple, save for that look of bored resignation on his face.

Sunday Scribblings: Masks

The weekend has been busy and it's nearly 9:30 on Sunday night before I finally get a peek at the Sunday Scribbling prompt for the week.

Synchronicity being the funny thing that it is.... I notice this prompt as we are watching "Labyrinth", in preparation for "Labyrinth of Jareth", the annual masquerade ball which I attend each year.

Watching this movie when I was young, all I wanted to do was disappear inside of it. Travel its various terrains and meet its random denizens. How wonderful and amazing that someone else had a similar thought, so much so that they manifested the event. Of course, like all such celebrations, the labyrinth has morphed and become its own entity.

Costume is required (or at least formal wear with a mask.) "Elaborate costumes" are recommended. And believe me, it is very clear that some folks work on their outfits all year long and make quite the showing. While some creatures are straight out of the movie, others are a wide variety of goblins, pirates, and fairies.

In the room, packed full of masked beings and living fantasies, one can completely lose oneself. Drop into the dance, listen to the bands, watch the shows, and disappear into another world, unrealted to reality. Masks and costumes have a built-in freedom that releases us from the mundane and opens a door to what we wish would be.

For beautiful masks and other such artistry, be sure to check out the pictures from years past.

Oh you Clever Corporate Bastards

Is it not enough for you that I worship at the shrine of your beloved soda?

Now you invite me to the Coke Side of Life, and tempt me with your frivolous and arty "coke creator" program, sucking mindless moments from me as I design my very own Coke poster...

Wheeeeeeeeeee!

Morning After

Day 1 - Post Detox, wherein the world attempts to return back to "normal"


Our dietary journey has ended (although many of the healthy habits will be retained). It was both challenging and insightful. I was thrilled to imbibe in my first cup of coffee this morning, but didn't need my usual amount of sugar. Lunch was tofu chili, but there was freedom in it because I knew that if I'd wanted to, I could have had meat in there instead. A world of new culinary options has opened up to me, and while I will return to my omnivore ways... I intend to continue my love affair with our Jack LaLanne Power Juicer.

However, when it comes right down to the nitty gritty of it, one discovery leaps to mind as most important.

I am not an alcoholic.

I apologize if that comes off somewhat tongue in cheek, because it is not meant that way. It is in fact a very solid and relief-filled statement. Many a time in my life, my addictive personality has leaned towards one vice or another as a form of escape. I've shared the company of several alcoholics (recovering and otherwise) in both my romantic and platonic relationships, enough times to make me wonder at the "birds of a feather" phenomena. And there are definite periods of my life wherein my own behaviors and tendencies scared me (like the 10 months I kept a bottle of vodka under the driver's seat of the car, for lunch breaks.) Therefore, the concept of going 30 days without alcohol seemed absolutely daunting. In practice though, abstaining was surprisingly easy.

Sure, there were bad days, stressful situations, & maudlin moods, to which my first instinctive response was "If only I had a glass of wine..." But then I would remind myself that it wasn't an option, and the urge would pass.

Let me repeat that.... the urge would pass. It didn't haunt me. It didn't keep me up at night. It didn't keep me from going to work, or dealing with unpleasantness. It would just fade away, like most of the other cravings (and faster than some.)

We have a bottle of red in the house even as I type, but it never occurred to me to open it prematurely. It was bought for that celebratory glass at the end of the road, and that's what it is waiting for still. (T minus 5 hours, and counting)

And when that long awaited moment comes, I will toast to willpower, to strength I didn't know I had, and to a future of better health and wiser coping mechanisms.

I will also toast Tag, as I couldn't have done this without him. *mwah* Thanks babe!

Long Awaited

...wherein I reveal the joy I've had for the last 2 1/2 weeks.

I did it! I'd been wanting to for years, and I finally did it (corporate office be damned!)

It's just hard to be pouty when your mirror shows Pretty in Pink.

Note to Parents: Before you go off on what a ridiculous form of expression you may or may not believe this to be... please let me remind you that it is neither a new tattoo nor a new piercing.

Small Work Rant

Look, I am not a tiny or fragile girl. I have upper body strength, more than most women in my office (thank you pole climbing). However, there are those sturdier and more equipped than I. There are also MEN on this floor. In fact the lordgodking quarterback, Mr. Fitness (aka my boss) is prone to show off his "guns" or tell us what he can bench or lift.

So why is it that 4 out of every 5 days .... I am the ONLY ONE replacing the 5-gallon jug on the water cooler!?!?!

I see people take their cups up to the spout, and when nothing comes out, they look up, see the empty jug and walk away. These same people later come running like a cat who hears the can opener, when I make that recognizable glug-glug-glug of a new jug pouring into the resevoir.

Seriously people... it's not that hard.