http://29gifts.org/

This is Lindsay's fault.  Lindsay the hot shot lawyer as I like to think of her now. And how do I know Lindsay? You may ask. We at Second City Improv Training in a writing class. She remembers details. I remember very little.  

Lindsay invited me in to 29gifts.org a few days ago and now I have to strategically go about my day because I've committed to giving something away every day for 29 days. Here's the thing:I'm already graced in the art of givery. Before I moved to Oak Park, I used to drive here on Sunday mornings to go to Unity-not the Temple-the Church. 

One of the sermons that stuck in my head was when the minister told us all about how he remembered being afraid to give. I remember thinking, what's he talking about? How'm I gonna give anybody anything when I am so lacking in glamorous merchandise? 

T'wasn't the point. The point was to remove your head from your arse and broaden your focus (interplanetarily speaking). 

Oh. That I understood.

Things flow through my house like nobody's business. I am surrounded by people who are already active participants in this process so I'm continually in the state of rotating my stock and that is fine by me. It's like living in a cornacopia or something.

I got today's idea a long time ago-when I realized that friends who had left New York were suffering without Fall. I have one California friend left out there that I'm in loose touch with and today we were strolling along and this tiny canvas executed by a guest artist beyond the realm of my capabilities is going straight into the mailbox for her. 

Somewhere between agony and ecstacy

We got a goodie bag on Saturday and I plopped the contents on the table that offends my Mah's design sensiblities and in that little thing that resembles a milk carton is a little carton of Bil-Jac Liver Treats for Dogs. Every so often, a small furry animal extends her neck to it's fullest extension and enjoys a deep sniff of appreciation.

If getting the crap startled out of you by a five foot tall fleece dog is Canine Companion agony? The wafting of eau de liver has got to define the other side.

Canine Companions for Independence Walk

"When Grantley met Snoopy"

Keyboard

Because we're that 20% (okay 80%) nutty, we signed up for one of those book clubs where you can pick out 6 books for a dollar and then you have to buy one more(is this sounding familiar? am I the only one that has a hard time passing that up?) so it came upon our birthday a few dozen days back and we selected a book called through a Dog's Ear-using sound to improve the health and behavior of your canine companion. The book "includes music clinically demonstrated to calm your dog". 

If we were able to continue to hold our heads up....we'd like to tell you....that...in the...hand...I mean wrong hands, this cd....could render innocent...people...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

TeeVee

Wow. I'm going to need a lot more time to get my freehand Obama right. It could take(at least 4, if not 8) years.

Kitchen Counter

My friends are spiritualish kind of people. Not churchy especially, altho they're not afraid to show up and share candle flames with the person on their right if it's for a good cause like world peace or something. (Hey wasn't that something we all aspired to at one point in our lives? Just checking.) They're more like the kind of people that swallow hard when they see that yet another of our towns giant trees has been turned into a stump. 

The Shish sees auras. 

I completely believe that she sees people wrapped in different colors depending on what she gets from them, vibe-wise. I wouldn't accept anything less than that from her. That's exactly who she is. 

MK is sort-of more of a seeker. She reads, she studies, she absorbs new thinking and experiences. I think she takes things in more on a physical level. She feels things other people don't. 

Both of these guys are all the time checking in with themselves in terms of intuition. If a dark street feels spooky. If a person sounds like a jerk. Does a person have a good heart. And like that. 

Myself I look for omens. 

Here's the series of omens I followed to get to my third week in my writing class. Thing one. I got the name of the writing teacher from a guy who replied to my Internet dating post. The first time we spoke, I was just randomly scribbling with a pencil and he mentioned the name of the writing teacher and I jotted it down. 

He was one of those,"I'll call you Monday" sorts of individuals. For some people, that phrase translated means,"Bye now!" And so he didn't call (his loss the way I see it)and I followed up on the writing class and here I am in my third week having an great time. 

When I checked the writing teachers website? There was a quote from a cartoonist I know. (Omen)

When I went to the bathroom on the first night? There were two books. One was some sorta heavy literature and the other was Lynda Barry. I know Lynda Barry. (Omen)

You following me here?

Me and MK went to the Harrison Street Art Festival last weekend. We only cruised through it-we were actually running late but we did stop at Sirius Cooks which is a store owned by two of our  up the street neighbors-Julie and Harriet and we popped in to say hello and to tell them they looked exhausted because they did, but anyway, we picked up some cool all natural dog food samples. I know the one I got had some crazy ingredients like fish lips and sweet potatoes and anyway, somehow I ended up with all four of our samples. 

I was doing some hardcore heavy duty random life what iffing this week and my eyes fell on this silver package and when I read the name? I thought, hmm. 

Omen. 

The Sidewalk

I was walking home today and I looked down and found this cut out bird on the sidewalk and I thought, okay cool, guest artist today and I started thinking about how I could save this poor birdling from it's hideous art class execution. (See his eyes? They've been handled in an impressionistic fashion.) Would I put him on a power line or with a towel at a birdbath or what? 

My Mah asked me did I like yesterdays Qi Gong class and the truth of the matter is no, there's a lot of things I really don't like about it. The instructor seems kinda like she's taught it too many times. Holding up the sun while the teacher goes around and checks every one's form gets old fast. She says we're supposed to be sort of feeling this energy within ourselves and it's supposed to be able to come out in the form of my arms on top of an ocean wave and I am so totally pretending-I might be up for a best supporting actress in a Park District class Emmy. And yet, I have noticed that structurally, when I'm standing there staring into a pretend forest with my body twisted like a opera singers braid, I can catch my shoulders and pop them right back into alignment where I may never have noticed that they strayed had I been at home washing dishes. 

I had a car crash of an experience teaching in a public school art program a long time ago. For some reason, they wanted their 7 year old urchins turned into little color blending Rembrandts.  Professional humorous illustrators want their work to take on qualities of an authentic 7 year old. You cannot have it both ways. 

I felt sorry for this poor markered-by-number Blue Jay and so I decided to construct him a proper elementary school landing.

Nest in peace. 

Park District Class

As far as I can tell, Qi Gong loosely translates

 into: drown in sweat, standing still. 

The Expressway

If you've not experienced a 38.1 pound sleeping corgi mix draped over your right shoulder as you motor home in the moonlight in a thirteen year old Chevy S-10 and then return safely home to reproduce it all on the back of an envelope? This is the time you might start wondering if whatever it is you're doing actually qualifies as being alive. 

Inbox

Hello arf!

Your Quit Date is: Thursday, April 20, 2006 at 10:37:00 AM
Test Time Smoke-Free: 883 days, 17 hours, 41 minutes and 42 seconds
Cigarettes NOT smoked: 17675
Lifetime Saved: 4 months, 15 days
Money Saved: $5,304.00
---------

How I Quit Smoking.

I employed my patented f-u method. I seriously did.

I started thinking, F-U tobacco companies. You're not gonna kill me with my own money.

I also replaced the phrase 'smoke a cigarette' with 'suck on an exhaust pipe' because that's essentially what it is. There's all these crazy-assed chemicals in cigarette smoke that you don't even know about. Like rat poison. So when I'd think: I'm dying for a cigarette. I'd replace it with: I'm dying to suck on an exhaust pipe. I miss sucking on an exhaust pipe. Sucking on an exhaust pipe relaxes me. I like the taste of sucking on an exhaust pipe.

I also decided I'd do whatever it took so I ate whatever I wanted.

I had a good laugh in my dog friend Karin's backyard-we were talking about quitting smoking and weight gain and she made me laugh because she pointed out that two years later-you can't really blame the gain on quitting.

I laughed.

To be fair, I also used the patch and had the coolest dreams ever. And this website-http://cookcounty.quitnet.com/ It was really good too. My entry was pre-paid for by Cook County. A good place to poke a few buttons.

Someone asked me if I hate smokers and I oh so totally don't. How could I? Just 883 days, 17 hours, 41 minutes and 43 seconds, I was one myself. I remember being at a doctor's office and her asking me, "How's the smoking going?" and I said," Oh, I'm really good at it. Thanks for asking"

Gallows humor, wasn't it?

Up The Street

When I moved here and I was on one of my maiden voyages with Grantley through the neighborhood, there was a brick two-flat where, on selected Sundays, musical notes were being shoved out from under the rafters, like a waterfall. What do you do when you see a house dancing?

Now it's all these years later and not only were we invited in to the front row of Seymour's Big Band Picnic, we seem to have become regulars which means we get to help lay out the pastrami. I know. Coolness.

Seymour's true love, aside from Marilyn, is this: He loves to feed people.

Today, I invited them to go with me to Eli's Cheesecake Festival. (Has anyone else noticed that there's all of a sudden 92 outdoor activities all in a row going on around here?) I knew Seymour would appreciate the cheesecake, plus there's what they call a dock sale which means you can get a slightly crooked entire cheesecake for three bucks. Last time I got one, I spent hours distributing it throughout the neighborhood. I cannot be trusted with an entire cheesecake. Nosiree Bob.

We went and we brought a perishable food item which we traded in for a slice of cheesecake. Marilyn went for the apple cake because she's iffy about cheesecake. Later she tried to tell us she consumed less calories because hers was fruit. We thought that was very funny.

We watched a cooking demo. It was cheesecake ice cream. Very nice altho I didn't take a recipe because I'm good with Baskin Robbins chocolate chip mint generally speaking. Then we had these tiny hand scooped ice cream cones and we gobbled them up too. Then we watched The Jesse White Tumblers fly over a giant cheesecake on a fork lift and then we came home.

We were sitting in their backyard and Seymour got this look in his eyes. Sparkly and hazy at the same time. He was concocting dinner in his mind for the three of us. We sat at the picnic table Marilyn's late father built and enjoyed pizza with sprinkley cheese, olives, and oregano as well as cheese and crackers followed by raspberry sherbet followed by chocolate followed by nuts.

This is a

Greater Chicago Food Depository sticker they gave us when we passed in our non-perishable food item. In honor of my friend and neighbor Seymour Axelrood, I've made one slight adjustment.

The Hood

We are severely bumming this evening.

For all these years, we've enjoyed-no, come to expect to have the finest of all letter carriers known to man. And, it was...how can I explain, that I expected to have the very best and coolest letter carrier just because, I don't know, it seemed to make sense. We're not generic people, we never expected to have an anonymous mail lady. Ours was the cool one with the braid.

She has a braid that runs the length of her back. She wears 'the skirt' every single day. She's 'old school' so her mail is all pre-organized and nicely arranged and she used to fish out the circulars and stick them on the side. She'd stop to say hello. She petted nice dogs and knew their names. She told me that after 9-11, people came out and embraced her-since she was their only connection to the United States government and when they saw her, they felt better. Once, I was out shoveling and I saw her stand at the peak of one of those giant snow platforms that form on unshoveled corners before she lost her footing and went all the way down. She came up cursing a blue streak. It was awesome to behold.

Ack. I just typed my favorite mail lady into past tense. The horror.

We caught her up on Pleasant Street way out of our 'hood today and jokingly asked if she was cheating on us with another neighborhood. She broke the news as she was petting Grantley's head.

I wonder if I could write a letter...

Pet Vets Animal Hospital

Old Dog New Tricks

So, today was anal glands and nail clipping. The perennial joke at the vet's office is that she's fine with the anal glands but massively less fine with the nail clipping and that would be contrary to most human spa experiences. (You want to know 'anal glands'? Really? The way I understand it, it's a genetic thing that certain dogs don't automatically express the contents of their anal glands just because they're shaped funny or whatever(this is the technical explanation)and so the gross junk builds up and they get uncomfortable and begin to scoot or drag their hind quarters across the floor to find relief. (In the olden days people used to think the dog had worms because of scooting but no.) So, ya gotta take them in( you could do it yourself but ye gods) and have the glands expressed by hand which, depending on the practitioner, is no big deal or a total nostril nightmare. It depends on the phases of the moon, I'm starting to think.  

Anyway yeah, it's gotten expensive but I try to remember that she's not some sorta poodle who requires regular trips to the beauty shop and the baths she does get are executed by me and my Dad(we have it down to a science) so, ya know, suck it up and get over it already, right?

Today she did something I've never seen her do. We approached our vets office, went inside and when she realized were she was? She swung around and shoved the big glass door open with her head and prepared to escape. I didn't know she could do that. She's just a force of 38.1 pounds. I was so impressed that part of me wanted to let her get away with it. 

It reminded me of when I first got her and she didn't understand stairs and so I'd carry her up three flights and down three flights until one day there was a bone or some other tasty delight that she had an additional motivation to reach and that was the last day I had to carry her and what I wanted to know was how long had she been faking me out. 

There have been other times lately where I've wished I could absorb her talent for approaching strangers-and it's not just anyone she passes on the street-she knows exactly which commuters to bonk into with her head, and seemingly, by some psychic force, she cajoles them from out of their pre-Starbucks morning funk into reaching down and massaging her head. 

The Shish told me that every new person you meet is there to either teach you something or learn something from you. I wonder what's on for tomorrow. 

Nineteenth Century Club

I am the worlds worst meditator.

We all set off for our darshan* with Mother Meerah at 6:00 on Saturday evening. You were instructed to sit facing forward, not look around the room and meditate.

All of a sudden, I'm a human sock puppet. I can't sit still. I'm too hot and my feet are cold. I'm staring at everyone in the entire room and having this little play in my head about how the guy next to the guy who has his legs folded must be his father because they have the same chins and that lady needs about 6 inches cut off her hair and what would that obese woman look like if she lost 200 pounds. I actually imagined that my hand was her face and I tried to visualize how her features would sink back into place as I drew my fingers together which I wasn't supposed to be doing. Nothing was supposed to be crossed. Not my ankles, not my arms, not my fingers. What do you think my body wanted to be doing? Every intersection ached to touch. I make grocery lists. I try not to look at my friends and when I do, I look away as fast as I can because I'm one of those people who shakes the pew making a joyful yet wildly inappropriate noise unto the Lord once you get me started and believe me it doesn't take much. I make judgements about the other people at the darshan. Mean ones. And then I try to decide what makes me single out one person over another to decide if I like them. I don't like the ones with perfect shawls draped over their perfect outfits. How did they all of a sudden get so appropriate and why did I decide to wear unnatural fabrics as I am starting to sweat except for my feet which are like ice. I try and guess the age of Mother Meerah. I try and find the man with the orange shirt who will release me by calling my row forward and out into the main aisle. I find him but he's as far away as he can be. I sit up straighter hoping that will draw him to our row. I peek at the lady next to me, she has nice eyelids. I wiggle. I wait.

Very spiritual, huh? Not.

When we got done, each of the three of us gathered in the cloak room everyone exclaiming about the messages they had received. One got a message of: Thank you. One got several messages-enough, she explained later, to fill her eyes with tears.

Myself-I was like the trick or treating Charlie Brown. All I got was rocks. I mean nothing. Nada. Zero. I'm surprised a giant tweezers with my name on it didn't come out of the sky and pull me out of my chair with all that bad ass karma spinning out of control.

I am the worlds worst meditator.

*what is a darshan?
Darshan means vision or seeing the Divine. It is the experience of receiving a vision, blessing, or feeling of a Divine presence through meditation, prayer, deep aspiration, or simply by sudden grace.

Third Floor Oak Park Public Library

I was standing in my second favorite spiritual place, at the computer, when the man next to me got my attention. 

"I want that" he said as he pointed his finger at the computer screen. It was a small image of a particular library book. Fiction. He was on the wrong floor. 

I said, "Oh. Okay just click on it." 

"Do what?" he asked.

You know, I said. Move your mouse on top of it and then...just. 

I stopped talking.

He looked so ashamed. 

Hey don't worry about it, I said. We all had to learn. 

Then I showed him how to twirl the mouse around the screen. 

Cool, huh? I said. 

He was flustered. 

Go ahead. Click on the line of words next to the book. 

We had to drop back until I could find the right words to describe how to click. 

Remember how it felt to know how to pull open the wooden drawers of the card catalogue and be able to find anything you wanted? And can you remember not knowing how? But then, all of a sudden, you did know, right? 

Uh-huh, he said, pretending to be convinced tho he clearly wasn't. 

He copied down the name of the author and I steered him towards the second floor. 

You can lead a man to technology but you shouldn't leave him 'till he can click. 

House of the Parentals

I made my way through the monsoon to the house of the parentals on Sunday. It was pouring but I have a cool silver raincoat and Grantley never complains about the weather-at least not to me and so, off we went for a nice visit with much jocularity. 

There was a covered dish on top of the microwave. Looked like foil over waxed paper over a cake pan which, in my Mah's 'Healthier than Thou' kitchen can only be the possibility of a good sign. 

I said,"What's on the microwave?"

And the answer was Dean Ornish carrot cake. 

And here, for your reading pleasure, is the list of what my Mah would say are 'all good ingredients'. The point being, and it's a good one, if you start with quality ingredients, you'll never really go wrong, not unlike life-if you're paying attention. 

1 teaspoon Ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon Ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon Freshly grated nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon Ground cloves
1 1/2 cup Whole wheat pastry flour
1/3 cup Wheat bran
1 1/2 teaspoon Baking powder
1 teaspoon Baking soda
1 cup Grated carrots
1 cup Raisins or other dried Fruit
3/4 cup Honey
1 1/2 cup Water

They made it on my birthday, so, in my mind it was birthday cake. Therefore, I invited myself to enjoy a slab. We all had cups of peppermint tea and glasses of ice water and we all awaited the illumination  of an impromptu candle and the singing of 'Happy Birthday To You' and my Mah slides the plated slice in front of me and says,"It has some fat in it. It'll give you gas."

I'm not sure, but I think in several countries, that could possibly qualify as many happy returns of the day, no? 

-------

This just in from my Mah. 

That's the wrong recipe. Here are the proper All Good Ingredients. 

Carrot Cake With Cream Cheese Frosting

Makes One 9-inch cake>Serves 12

Cake:
2 cups grated peeled carrots
1/2 cup sugar
1(4-ounce)can crushed pineapple with juice
1(4-ounce)jar carrot purree(baby food)
1/2 cup egg whites(from approx. 4 large eggs)or liquid egg substitute
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups flour
calls for 1 1/4 oat bran....we didn't have this so used finely chopped walnuts....about 3/4 cup and a half cup more flour.
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon

Frosting:
8 ounces nonfat cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup sugar

Preheat onven to 425 degrees F. Prepare a 9-inch pie pan, nonstick or lightly sprayed with nonstick spray. In a large bowl, wish carrots, sugar, pineapple, carrot puree, egg whites, vanilla, and salt until well blended.

In another bowl, stir together, flour, oat bran(nuts)baking soda, and cinnamon. Add dry ingredients to liquid ingredients, fold in gently.

Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake until lightly browned and firm to the touch, about 30 minutes. Cool in pan, then unmold and frost.

To make frosting: Beat cream cheese and sugar with a stiff whisk, a hand-held mixer or wooden spoon until smooth and creamy. Spread evenly over cake surface.

Serving size/ 1/12 of cake
Calories: 118
Fat: 0.9 g.
Cholesterol: 0 mg.
Carbohydrate: 26.7 g.
Protein: 4.9 g
Sodium: 101.3 mg.

Tip
Carrots are one of the best cources of beta-carrotene, which is converted to Vitamin A in the body. Beta-carrotene belongs to a family of substances known as carotenoids, plant pegments which are thought to protect against cancer through their action as antioxidants. And you don't have to eat carrots raw to get the benefits. In fact, cooked carrots are higher in Vitamin A than raw carrots. Carrots are also a good source of soluable fiber, vitamin C, calcium and gas! 

From "Everyday Cooking with Dr. Dean Ornish."

The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted

Entries for Sep 12, 2008

Food Name
Amount
Unit
Cals
Fat (g)
Carbs (g)
Prot (g)

Egg, whole, fried

175
13.5
0.9
12.5
Bacon, cooked

87
6.7
0.2
5.9
Macaroni, creamed, with cheese

415
17.2
48.2
16.3
Beans, green, and potatoes, cooked, fat added in cooking

115
4.0
19.0
2.5
Muffins, corn, dry mix, prepared

91
2.9
13.9
2.1
Pork, fresh, loin, blade (chops), bone-in, separable lean on...


284
16.5
0.0
31.5
Meat with gravy

294
10.4
6.8
40.7
Ice cream

400
21.3
48.4
7.0
Bread, cinnamon

80
1.0
15.2
2.3
Cheese, Brick

105
8.4
0.8
6.6
Sushi, with vegetables and seafood


36
0.1
7.1
1.4
Squash, zucchini, baby, raw*

3
0.1
0.4
0.4
Tomatoes, raw

4
0.0
0.8
0.2
Soft drink, cola-type, with higher caffeine

100
0.0
25.8
0.0
Egg roll, meatless

50
2.9
4.9
1.3
Sweet potato, candied

65
1.6
12.6
0.4
Fudge, chocolate, with nuts

101
4.2
15.0
1.0
Total
2,405
110.6
220.1
132.0

*Editors Note: Truth be told, the zucchini was added for decorative purposes only.

The Floor

I don't want to be one of those whiners/complainers because it was less than 24 hours ago that I was flying on a bike through a field of yellow flowers thinking, why don't we do this all the time? And I don't want the answer to be something along the lines of because one day later you're still going to be exhausted but I just got home from my second visit to Mother Meerah and I made myself this gorgeous salad.

It was salmon, spring green mix, tomatoes, olives, a sprinkling of Parmesan cheese(not the dusty kind), some Goddess Dressing and voila! I tossed it right into the air and it landed on my feet. I invoked the 5 second rule, scooped up what I could and as I enjoyed the remnants, there was a pink tongue working on my feet. I guess we know the true goddess around here.

One of the coolest things about Grantley is her ability to remove lettuce from the smallest bite of sandwich. Here was decorated lettuce. A challenge. 

When I got done I looked at my feet and it looked, on my floor, just like it's started to look on the sidewalks down the street.

Fall.

Birthday Land

If I made a list of all the things I got to do for my birthday, you wouldn't even believe it, it would be so long and the real problem is going to be that I have to pretty much prop my wrists on the keyboard I am so entirely wrecked.

 

But I can't let the day go by without picking out two little episodes that will illustrate most completely why I have these two particular people in my life. 

I went to yelp.com one day and they were featuring this massage place called Pain Stop. The write ups were a little ummm intimidating in terms of the pain that was going to be involved. I think it's actually Qi Gong with some reflexology but from what we read, it was gonna hurt like a mutha.

I called The Shish and I said, ya wanna go? An hour later we were heading in that direction. We decided we'd just sample the reflexology and maybe a 10 minute chair massage, just to see if we could handle it. We go in, we're taking our shoes off and the lady mentions that we'd actually be better off getting the full hour massage because it would incorporate the feet and the back for 12 dollars more.

The reason I have to have a le Shish in my existance can be explained by the exchange of looks we gave each other right at that moment. 

It was this: I will if you will/I will if you will. 

And we did. 

Thing two. One of today's adventures included an almost 20 mile bike ride. (And if someone would like to volunteer to come over and get me out of bed tomorrow, it would be appreciated. One word: OUCH.) 

It's me and MK and we flying down this hill and my brakes are giving me away.

I was going down the hill and it was wet and slippy and we were flying and all of a sudden, I thought, oh mah gawd what am I doing? So I start squinching the brakes and their screech betrays my show of bravery and MK is ahead of me and she's yelling: Don't be afraid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We passed a sign in Aurora, where we went to see an exhibit of original Golden Book illustrations(Real Richard Scarreys. How awesome is that?). It said: Blessed are the grateful. 

And there you go. 

Go Yu

Q: How do you say fish in Chinese?

A: In Mandarin, the word for "fish" is yu (with a rising tone).

The Hallway of the Arms

"Ann wants to learn Chinese brush painting." said Nancy Fong.

"What?" I said as I looked at my watch as I furiously tried to imagine ways to escape. She was doing a demo and nobody showed. I couldn't leave her.

sigh.

60 minutes later I was painting bamboo.

More tomorrow. It's late.

Lost

Ask me how Tai Chi was tonight. No, go ahead and ask me.

I have no idea.

Here's me driving along in the pitch black along the DesPlaines River thinkin', jeez it's dark out here, turning right onto Fullerton and finding a high school where I am expecting a library so I keep going until I start thinkin', hmmmmmmmmaybe it's the high school library...so, I twirl around this giant high school, park and start testing all the doors to find the one that's supposed to be open. 

Ask me where that open door was.

I have no idea. 

The only cool thing about it was that I saw a deer at the salad bar that is the riverbank and also that I got really lost because sometimes I think losing your way is a sign of knowing that you're trying to go someplace new. 

So, instead of Popping Dragon In Left Eye or whatever, I came home and made myself draw the same tuberose I got at the Farmers Market the Saturday before last. It is also still blooming. 

Snoopy Dog Fest Website

You didn't know we rub dog elbows with celebrities, didja? We're going to do it again this year. I'm a little distracted and overwhelmed by the generosity of my dog friends or friends of my dog or my friends who have dogs or friends of Oak Park dogs or okay I'll stop now.

If any one of my fuzzillion readers cares to reach into their sofa cushions and dig out some quarters, we would be eternally grateful and one of us might even lick your hand.

https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=283229&supid=231345670

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Hi- I wanted to say thank you for the Human Race. My two friends and I walked...


Discussion Thread
---------------------------------------------------------------

Customer (Ann Farrell) - 09/05/2008 10:17 PM
Hi-
I wanted to say thank you for the Human Race. My two friends and I walked it(we're not runners) and we had an excellent time. The clappers were great. The bands along the route were awesome. The whole thing was really well done.

Only complaint was that twerp from Fall Out Boy calling everyone 'Mother F-ers'. I'm not easily offended but there were all kinds of people in the crowd including children. No big deal but it took away from the experience.

Anyway.
Thanks again!
-Ann Farrell

Response (Michael) - 09/07/2008 09:55 AM
Hi Ann,

How are you?

It is great to hear you ran in The Nike+ Human Race. It was such a great event to participate in.

I am happy to hear you had a good experience doing the actual race. I apologize about the experience at the concert. I will pass this feedback on to my manager for him to review and send on to the appropriate people within our company.

Thank you for contacting Nike+ regarding this issue, have a great day!

Mike
Nike+/Nike Running


Auto-Response - 09/05/2008 10:17 PM
Thanks for contacting us with your Nike+ Human race question. We’ll do our best to answer your e-mail as quickly as we can.

In the meantime, why not check out the city FAQ page for your location? These pages offer a wealth of useful information about packet pickup, race-day locations and times, post-race concerts, and other Nike+ Human Race details. Check out your city’s page:

Austin: http://inside.nike.com/blogs/humanrace-en_US_AUSTIN/tags/faq
Chicago: http://inside.nike.com/blogs/humanrace-en_US_CHICAGO/tags/faq
Los Angeles: http://inside.nike.com/blogs/humanrace-en_US_LOSANGELES/tags/faq
New York City: http://inside.nike.com/blogs/humanrace-en_US_NYC/tags/faq
Portland: http://insidenikerunning.nike.com/2008/08/05/get-ready-to-race-in-portland/

Thanks for contacting us with your Nike+ Human race question. We’ll do our best to answer your e-mail as quickly as we can.

In the meantime, why not check out the city FAQ page for your location? These pages offer a wealth of useful information about packet pickup, race-day locations and times, post-race concerts, and other Nike+ Human Race details. Check out your city’s page:

Austin: http://inside.nike.com/blogs/humanrace-en_US_AUSTIN/tags/faq
Chicago: http://inside.nike.com/blogs/humanrace-en_US_CHICAGO/tags/faq
Los Angeles: http://inside.nike.com/blogs/humanrace-en_US_LOSANGELES/tags/faq
New York City: http://inside.nike.com/blogs/humanrace-en_US_NYC/tags/faq
Portland: http://insidenikerunning.nike.com/2008/08/05/get-ready-to-race-in-portland/


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I dunno. I think getting older might be kind of hilarious, actually.

Wal-Mart

I heard a lady say, "What are all these people doing here at this hour?"

"What does everybody need so bad?"

I was in the lane next to "Ten Items Or Less". I only had two things but the cashier looked very bright and motivated to go home, so I knew I had selected relatively well in terms of gigantic lines of people at Wal-Mart at 9:00 on a Saturday night.

Wow, you are thinking. She must think she's some sorta supercalifragilisticexpialidocious head, if she finds her trip to Wal-Mart a noteworthy event.

It gets better.

I bought a toilet seat.

Gosh, you're thinking. TTTTTTT MMMMMMMMMMMM AYE YI YI already. When will it ever end?

Well, the reason this journey is significant, is, a couple of years ago, I got dumped from a career I thought I really loved and it wasn't even a reasonable, respectful, walk on-walk on kind of dumpage. It was a regular mail, regular stamp, two days after Christmas, five days before we were all supposed to return to work, pull the rug out from under your world/sock you in the stomach dumping.

Some would defend such actions as "Just business." and I say it's crap. Respect doesn't have a price tag. A colleague who met a similar fate(except by Federal Express-what was I? Chopped liva?) said of the dumper: I dream of his demise.

Not long after that fateful envelope, MK and I went to Loews because I needed a toilet seat.(I don't take glamorous vacations. I buy a new shower curtain! Woo!) I remember taking the cheapest junky white seat, and I remember saying that's the one I wanted because I was not sticking around. Wherever I wanted to be, I knew my final destination was going to be known as: anywhere but here.

So. It is all these months later and I actually went to Wal-Mart tonight for a clear shower curtain because I have a sort of a clever-ish idea I want to try out that requires multiple shower curtains. I had been balking on following through with the idea, until I guess I started hanging around with these senior citizens I work with now.

I've been trying my best to convince them(and remember they're from the Deeeee-pression) to use the best materials, in the work that they do and the stuff that they make. To start working on those projects they've been dreaming of doing. To do those first. To do them now.

Not because they're old and running out of time, but because they're at their peak in terms of skill and experience. Let the beginners practice with the scraps and the remnants. The seniors have earned the good stuff in my estimation.

I remember a new cartoonist asking the question on an Internet cartooning discussion board. She asked, "Of all the cartoons that go out in a batch? How many have to be good?"

The answer, of course, and what separates the accomplished from the beginner is that you know sending anything less than your very best work is self defeating. The editor has no obligation to sift through 12 cartoons on your behalf. Two duds in a row and it's game over sucka'.

Tonight, as I was wandering around Wal-Mart because the lines were seriously gigantic, it occurred to me that all this time later, I have a pretty nice thing happening here in terms of a life. I have friends who greet each other by kissing each other on the cheek and their only connection is me. I have a dog that gets all prancy when she nears the fire station in anticipation of a cookie and if the fire boys aren't out there? She looks all over the place for them. My job seems to need me, I'm supposed to be getting my own street soon and if I turn on my truck radio real loud? I can hardly hear the brakes squeak at all.

I thought of this song as I picked out my new genuine some-sort-of-actual wood toilet seat. I was hoping it was from The Mary Tyler Moore Show when she tossed her beret in the air. but it's actually from a show called Alice with the 'Kiss My Grits" lady.

Profound is where you find it, I guess.

Early to rise, early to bed.
In and between I cooked and cleaned and went out of my head.
Going through life with blinders on, it's tough to see.
I had to get up, get out from under and look for me.
*There's a new girl in town and she's looking good.
*There's a fresh freckled face, in the neighborhood.
There's a new girl in town, with a brand new style.
She was just passing through,
but if things work out she's gonna stay awhile....ba ba bum bum bummmm

--------

Goose Island

I knew of a brain surgeon/acupuncturist/cancer specialist guy in New York City who's parents did not purchase any toys for him when he was a tot. They made him make his own.

Le Shish and I were gum testers.

I say 'were' because both of us are concerned about our teeth and there seems to be 80 kajillion things to do all of a sudden so it appears that we've taken early chewing retirement. It's not a terrible loss because sometimes we had to bring string cheese to eat in the parking lot to counteract the sweetness. What we would not do for humanity.

One of the things you do as a gum tester, is eat crackers. It gets the flavor out of your mouth in between chews. Le Shish and I would be seated next to each other in individual booths and because our parents allowed us to watch TeeVee, I tried to make her laugh by impersonating the game section of Bozo Circus, where Ringmaster Ned would have the kids eat soda crackers and then try and whistle.

It makes me wonder now, if our Mahs would have had us watch something financial with the likes of Louis Rukeyser, would we now be hanging out on Wall Street.

Okay it was just a thought. The truth is I just like to say Louis Rukeyser.

Here is one other example of where I tried to make Le Shish crack up. It's adult in nature, but come on, it's Friday night and we're talking about gum here. When you get the test piece of gum and begin to sample it. you make notes on the flavor. As I read over my notes? (And this is completely non-fiction here. I wouldn't even attempt to fabricate this.) I realized my mind must have been in either in the gutter or not far away, so I wrote the caption and slid it into her booth.

What greater gift for a humorist than to be surrounded by people who giggle.

Photos

I'm reading another pink book(don't even ask about my secret obsession regarding books from the classification of books in the library known as "Beauty:Personal." and why someone who's eyes stuck shut en route to a blind date as they turned a corner into a freezing Chicago wind on the last serious mascara attempt, have read them all. I couldn't really explain it.) called The Beauty Prescription. It's written by the unusual combo of one dermatologist and one psychiatrist plus it was pink. I had to take it home. (And yes, it's true sometimes I take books and oh mah gawd abandoned at the thrift store stuffed animals just because I feel sorry for them but that's a story for another day. See Chump:Ann.)

I have been wrecked tired all week since the race Sunday night. I don't even think the entire exhaustion came from the actual 10k. As for me, I was worried that I could make it. Worry is not only pointless but completely exhausting. A useless hobby.

I only got up to page 26 last night before I completely passed out having set my alarm for six so as not to disturb the daily freshness of my blog. The first point the authors make, is that the best beauty secret of all is called 'radiant self esteem'. (Hmm I thought. A good name for nail polish, perhaps.) I'm kind of familiar with this concept myself from having taken photos of different women I know and being so excited to show them these awesome shots only to hand them over and watch the women dissect their cheerful images, not unlike a frog on pins in junior high.

The book says our self-criticism comes because we look at ourselves as individual pieces-never thinking of adding in things like, winning attitude or cheerful disposition. We see fat ass, or droopy eyelids or 9000 chins. And if we live long enough? We can look forward to age spots and wrinkles and kinds of other colorful items.

When I was teaching Jr. High kids at the School of the Art Institute? One of them told me, I said, 'Yea!' too much which made me laugh because personally and quite frankly, I don't see how that's even possible but I'm going to show you two pictures from the race on Sunday just because I think they're so funny.

Ready?

Look. As you can see by my clapping hands and open mouth forming the appropriate word, I and my 14 chins and my squinty eyes and my tiny teeth are clearly in the classic Yea! position.(Photo by Le Shish)

Now this one you'll have to wander off to see but I hope you do and I hope you come back tomorrow where I might tell you that I think a seeing eye dog named Nickel who pulls a man at the assisted living facility where I am currently employed has a crush on me and why that's very bad for the man who has to go down a flight of stairs as he passes me every day and how I have to hide so as not to create a horrible accident but first you gotta see this.

It's Le Shish in the front and look at that sweaty person with the 87 chins and the tiny teeth and the squinty eyes wearing the wrong color shorts right on her tail in full "Tah-dah!" position.

http://www.brightroom.com/view_user_photo.asp?S=20&EVENTID=40063&PWD=&ID=54818095

(I can't get it to link. Might I ask you to cut and paste?)
Yay!

Farmers Market

I got this flower at the Oak Park Farmers Market on Saturday for one dollar. It's called a tuberose (Polianthes tuberosa). It's just like one of those fireworks you see in the sky on the 4th of July. You know the ones where, when you're ahh-ing you have to break into an oooh because there's like an entire chain of more fabulous explosions? Same for this. Just when you think the stem has released it's last puff of fragrance? You get another one.

Pretty cool for a buck.

Thanks farmers.

My Floor

Was it Pippi Longstocking or Mrs. Pigglewiggle or Amelia Bedelia or maybe I saw it in an Archie Comic, but I've recently improved upon the original invention of attaching scrub brushes to your feet and skating around the house and now, I shall present my invention to you.

Swiffer Slippers.

If some smart aleck starts cracking wise about your apparent cleaning inertia, now you can proudly say, oh yeah? Simply place one Swiffer(or it's store brand equivalant, ya cheap bastard-o)beneath each of your feet and just slide around your house, physically collecting dust.


What could be easier?
But wait.

If you're like me, there's some bit of untapped heat and/or moisture in your feet that practially draws canine tumbleweeds from their 80 kajillion hiding places. And, you can poke your toe into places no traditional Swiffer Stick can possibly reach. It's a miracle!

How much would you pay?

50 dollars? 100 dollars? Less than 50 cents a foot?

Concerned about breaking your neck? Everyone can Swiff from an upright and seated position on a rolling chair for even more aerobic fun and super deep cleaning.
Now how much would you pay?
800 dollars? 500 dollars? 29 cents a sheet?

When guests stop by unannounced? You can not only make them take off their shoes at the door, get them in on the cleaning act by providing a basket of Swiffer Slippers!

Soon everyone in the household will want to get in on the act!

(And it really really works!)

Labor Day

I'm closed for Labor Day.
Please call again.