Lean on Bee

Ok, so this bee has been bummin' lately. I freely admit it. Here's the thing...if I need a stinger or wing to lean on, is it crazy to burden my fellow bee friends to ask? Bee-cause I do find myself in need of support...so...should I buzz off? Please feel free to post, beeeee honest and let me know!

Thanks :)

Gb

Halloween Homage

This bee loves all things scary! So this bee loves Halloween. Sure...for the costumes and candy. But more for the scary movie marathons! Any horror movie is a-ok with me. And a bunch of them all in a row..well, that's a little piece of heaven :)

I saw Saw V this past weekend...liked it a whole lot. Love the original Halloween. Can't wait for Netflix to send me The Strangers! Stephen King is my favorite author -- that says it all. I had the opportunity to drive through Albany and parts of MA earlier this week...I can see how the east coast would be the perfect setting for a scary story :)

So Happy Halloween to all!

GB

Everything Old Is Poem Again

Those of you who know me know that this past weekend (pre-frog voice) I went shopping for a new car...for the first time in 10 years. And I ended up buying a new car -- and saying goodbye to the Mazda Protege that, for some reason, I was (and still am) apparently VERY attached to. Every time I see one on the road now, I actually get teary. Anywho...I digress.

Of course, though I knew it was a possibility, I didn't really mentally prepare myself for the scenario of actually buying a new car the day I started looking...and, in turn, saying an abrubt goodbye to this silly little compact car I REALLY loved. So...of course, the situation found me buzzing around, filling the empty boxes I luckily had in my trunk with the contents from the inside of my car. Among the cassette tape mixes, myriad maintenance receipts, sunglasses, etc... was a folded piece of paper. Later in the weekend I got the chance to go through all my accumulated crap, and got around to investigating the piece of paper. Turns out is was a rogue poem I wrote in August of 2000 (a year after getting the Mazda...so far from becoming who I am today). Why I wrote it is a mystery. Why I printed it out and stuck it in the glove compartment of my car, only to find it nearly 9 years later...well, that's a bigger mystery.

So...I figured I might as well share this find with the three people who read this blog :) For better or worse...here is the state of my insurance-company addled mind circa the new millennium (sp?)...maybe you can help me solve the mystery...enjoy:

FAIRA CRIES
Early on the girl had spirit...dreams of summer days and better things, the same
Life -- a plan that wasn't her own, hidden -- a turmoil no one had known
Tragic artist, tortured soul, ballerina barely five years old
Why wait for the future when it comes for the past? Wait, just wait...it won't last

Old soul, young heart, start the wheels turning in motion -- in yearing
Always for that elusive wisp of meaning and feeling -- and ice cream
Over and over before it began -- she ran, she ran, our Faira she ran

Through the meadows of youth and the tunnels of time, crying inside
She tried. Cheerleader girl, basketball chic, winner, achiever, movie-of-the-week,
Truth hides, we seek, we lie, life cheats. Pretty young thing taking the ride
Such a long time between living and life

Faira -- she wonders what little girls become, when growing is over and becoming --
It's done. To be what fate meant, does it mean what we say is our final decision? For all of our days?
Closeness melts and the tree starts to fall, of all the illusions, intrusions...confusion
the fairest of all. Over and over before it began, Faira she tries to face why she ran

Fear keeps pace with a path traveled well. Dreams not promoted become tales to tell. Do it well.
Do everything well. No matter what's done, for duty, for fun,
it matters least when along for the ride the passenger errs -- attempting to drive

A ballerina now thirty years old -- the future, it ambushed the girl. She folds.
Playing for keeps. Having to hold. Round and round our girl she goes.
Looking back to a future -- where are the dreams? Why didn't they hear her pleas to just be...
At night she lies, eyes wide with the folly of fate and waits. And in the day...our Faira, she cries.

GB

Three Words

Fork. Stick. Done.

Change is good...right?

I admit, I'm somone who has always clung to the status quo. Same old same old has always been A-OK with me. In the past 4 years, however, I've pretty much completely strayed from my former anal-retentive self. From having to have just the right colored file folders, just the same PC setttings, just the exact right pen. Flying by the seat of my pants is more the norm now...no two days are ever alike (they used to be cookie-cutter) and even in a given day, I know what is on my calendar as of 8 a.m. will most likely change before day's end.

So...you'd think I'd be ok with change in other arenas. And I am...but for some reason I have this weird thing about inanimate objects. My cell phone...I just got a new one...and miss my old one terribly. It worked the same way, yet I still get teary thinking of it. I know, I'm one cuckoo for cocoa puffs bee! So, within two weeks of the new phone, I up and get a new car. I had the same one for 10 years. I loved that car...it was the less-than-stellar gas mileage and the feeling that at any moment the car would implode as I drove to a client that cinched it for for me...time for a new, safer car. I like the car I got a lot...in fact, a lot of the things about it are better than my other car...yet I can't help looking out the window for my old, dented Mazda.

This, my fellow bees, is why I haven't parted with my VCR. Yes. You read correctly. I still have -- and use weekly -- the VCR I was given as a gift the summer before freshman year of college (and I still use my alarm clock from when I was 16). I love the whole tangible quality of setting it...knowing I will physically have to "handle" a tape...that I can program it in the dark without looking at the remote more quickly than I can get my darned bluetooth to work on my cell. One day I'll have to switch to some form of DVR...but until then, it's VHS all the way for this bee!!

I'm old school. And I love it. I long for the days when filling up your car with gas meant having someone else do it, and heck, check the oil and clean the windows too. My windows and oil haven't been the same since the days of self-serve pumps. Mainly because I refuse to do one thing I don't want to do (when I can get away with it) -- and this Bartleby-ness just doesn't fit well in modern society. Oh well...I'm off to defrost my fridge...the non-frost-free one I have that, to my eyes, appears to be a holdover from the 1950s. Ok, THAT I would part with. I'm taller than the darned thing...good thing I don't cook! Where would I store the food? :)

Peace out on a beautiful Chicago Sunday.

GB

Hi B Community,

This B is buzzin in circles these days. Not sure if it's honey overload or just plain tired-ness at being swatted at all the time. This B is zonked. In human terms...I'm tired. Life these days has been kicking my stinger in a way that's quite unexpected. No huge issues or traumas or ordeals...actually, this B finds she can deal with those quite well. It's the everyday stuff...the day by day sitches...that get her all in a buzz-spin.

I find adulthood a rather lonely and solitary affair. And even though I've finally started "putting myself out there" I find, or rather fear, it might be too little too late. Facebook is a blessing and a curse. I've reconnected with the lost high school, junior high, grade school and college friends who've drifted away...yet it reminds me of whence I came and who I've yet to become.

Every marriage announcement or birth announcement is a reason for celebration and at the same time feels like a knife to the heart. A parade of what I will never have. I'm a good writer, a good person, and a hella creative individual. I don't, in a vacuum, feel at all sorry for myself. I have a lovely life...yet I can't help but covet that which my friends have. Does that make me a horrible person? Perhaps. But in the end, all I want is to be happy...to love what I do...and to love someone else.

My greatest fear is that I'll never love what I do or another person. We've all become so expendable and interchangeable. We all fall for the latest fad or trend. Where is individuality? Or preference? Or necessity these days? Am I a dying breed...she of the VCR and tape deck in-car and NO dishwasher? Am I crazy to be sad and mourn what we've all lost in this digital age? I participate, I admit...but deep down I loooong for 1985.

I just want to do what I love and be hapy with the result...but it appears that will never be possible. So I love the result...and bear the process. Please note...this diatribe refers to life as a whole -- my life -- not just one aspect of it.

Somehow I feel uniquely qualifed to play "the outsider." As an adoptee...I can never be certain of anything or anyone in my life. So I pick and choose. Somehow, I think I've encapsulated the best traits of someone on my lot...and I don't sneeze at that. Intelligence, altheletic ability, creativity and poise...good deal. Being an outsider, that's just just peripheral collateral damage. I love Buffy and Stephen King and Harper Valley PTA and Justin Wilson's Louisiana Cooking...I am the anamoly. And it's ok.

GB

Neverending Test

Ok, I admit. I'm getting tired. Tired of how everything seems to be a neverending test. Always having to prove yourself. If you're dedicated, and it's obvious, why is your dedication constantly tested. And if you're intelligent and hardworking...why are you consistenly forced to jump through an ever-increasing number of hoops? Is it spite? Or boredom? Or a rite of passage? Why can't someone believe that you are capable and trustworthy and take that at face value? Or am I just a cockeyed sarcastic optimist? Ha :)

Case of the Mondays

What can I say...I had to pay homage to one of my all-time FAV movies. Don't jump to conclusions (ok, my dorky banter has run amok...so sorry!).

I guess it figures that after a day as fun as yesterday (went skydiving for the first time and loved it) I would run, head on, into One Of Those Days. Purses forgotten at home. A burnt out headlight on a rainy day. Power outage during a favorite evening show. Arm pain causing me to type this, and most e-mails today, with one hand.

Guilty pleasures of late?

• Facebook
• Iced double shots at Starbucks
• Ice Road Truckers marathons
• The Kinks, Kid Rock and Lifehouse (yet again)
• High Life Adventures
• Gelato
• Reading "The Thing About Life Is One Day You'll Be Dead"
• The Hills (my name is Green Bee and I'm a Hills-a-holic)
• Shopping online
• It's Me or the Dog

I could post about more salient topics. The election. My best friend's awesome talent and huge success as a writer (go Stacey, it's almost your birthday). The environment (heck, Green is in my name). But I won't. Because one-handed typing is hard! :)

Peace out. It's all good...everything always is.

Live like you mean it. That's my motto and challenge to y'all :)

GB

BEEEEEn Silent

I apologize for my extended blogging absence. I plead colony collapse disorder...after all, it ain't easy being a green bee. Ok, end dorky repoirte here :)

There's so much to write about, and at the same time, nothing at all. Which makes for thrilling reading, I'm sure. I'm a study in contradictions (or is it dichotomies? sp? bueller?). I want to get married and have children...yet I don't date. I want to be more creative (write more, paint more, make jewelry more, etc.)...yet all I do is read or watch TV. I want to look more polished...yet I haven't styled my hair in years. I love watching the Food Network...yet I've never cooked a day in my life. Oh well...I digress...or not :)

Ok, I have to give a shout out to Joss Whedon's online-only "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog!" For those rabid musical-episode Buffy fans...this will SATISFY. It's Neil Patrick Harris mixed with other Whedon-verse usual suspects...singing along to the Joss-iest lyrics ever. It's awesome. 'Nuff said. They, indeed, gave me something to sing about!

My newest musical obsession, other than Dr. Horrible (as of tonight) is Delta Goodrem -- I LOVE her new album...and having never heard her music before (save for her new release "In this Life"), that's saying something in my book.

Ok, that's all for now. Green Bee bids you good night...
GB

Poem Is Me -- Part Deux

Hi all,

For lack of an original post, I figured I'd put another poem of mine "out there" for scrutiny and mocking :) Two of my favorite pasttimes for sure! BTW...it's sunny AND warm here in Chi-town today. Explains those winged pigs I spotted outside my window earlier. Happy reading!

Green B out :)

All Sales Final
You didn't know
I was a knockoff
a copy of the designer
original
almost as good but
not quite
the quality lower
the mechanism slower
a bargain for
a bargain price

Buyer beware
that's what mom said
and the consumer
should heed such
warnings
all sales final
how could I know
you'd fall
hard and fast
for the deal of a lifetime

Things That Make You Go Boo

So...I'm watching "Into the Wild" right now (and LOVING IT, btw, though it is depressing to say the least!) and it occurs to me that giving up every material thing and leaving everyone I know would terrify me. Which naturally led me to thinking of what else scares me in this world, and of course caused me to ponder what scares everyone else. The funny thing is, I'm not afraid of most of what scares my friends -- I love the dark (in fact, I watch most of the scary movies I see in the dark...alone), I love heights (I've bungee-jumped and LOVE all roller coasters at Great America), and I'm perfectly content being alone. Still, I do have few fears (not "frog fear" like Willow from Buffy, but a few trepidations nonetheless). I'll show you mine...I just hope at least one person shows me theirs :)

• Facials -- I'd never had one before. Last summer I went with a group of female family members for a spa day. I must note that in the past few years I've somehow developed a heightend sense of anxiety due to stress. Typically I don't notice adverse effects. Ironically, the one activity meant to relax me and reduce my stress turned out to freak me out. After the inital facial cleansing, the facilist (or whatever the correct term is for a person who gives you a facial) placed a warm towel over my face...completely covering it. For some reason, when she put the towel on my face, I had a panic attack...all of a sudden I couldn't breathe and I literally jumped out of the chair while at the same time shaking the towel off my face. I am now truly afraid of facials and will NEVER have one again.
• Spiders -- I don't jump on chairs or anything...but I'm scared of them IF I CAN'T IMMEDIATELY KILL them. See, if I spot a spider and it then escapes my line of vision, I am afraid of where it has gone and when it will next appear...I imagine it finding its way to my bedroom while I'm sleeping...and that skeeves me out!
• Being a passenger in the front seat of a car -- back in college, a friend of mine took a left turn too fast and hit a tree...on the passenger side. Since then, I've been a less than ideal co-pilot in driving situations. I don't call shot-gun. I prefer the back seat. If I'm forced to be a front-seat passenger, I tend to close my eyes a lot. And I do have curb fear!!
• My breathing, of late -- last summer I had this weird heart/breathing thing happen where my heart began beating irregularly and my breath caught in my throat. Luckily, the heartbeat thing never happened again. But breathing weirdness happened a few months back again, and the dr. said there isn't anything wrong and that it was probably anxiety. But I doubt that...because since then I've had some mondo stressful situations where no breathing issues surfaced, and alternately as things have become less stressful, I've started to notice what I call "breathing blips" again. These freak me out because every time it happens I think "not yet...I'm not ready to stop breathing" (which in my mind translates to not being ready to not live more). Which segues nicely into my final fear...
• Life -- for some reason, I'm afraid to just go out there and "live out loud." I am my own worst enemy. I hold myself back. I scare myself :) Boo!

Ok...so what are you afraid of? I'd love to hear about it! Happy rainy Saturday in Chi-town, folks. Green B goin' bye-bye. Catch you on the flip-side.

GB

Leaving On a Jetplane...

Ok, so I'm not leaving on a jetplane. I'm leaving on an American Airlines domestic flight. And I'm not leaving until May 2nd. But I am leaving. And I'm going to Arizona for four glorious, warm, non-crappy weather filled days. I can't wait. This winter, and now this spring, has been kicking my butt! I (naively) thought that surely by mid-April this crazy, punishing Chicago weather would relent...but alas, no such luck. So, to all those with seasonal affective disorder...I feel your pain. Shout out. Hey ya! I'm actually listening to my playlist labeled "blah," if that helps describe my state of mind. Sure, there was a bit of sunshine today...with 40-degree temperatures. So far '08 is turning out to be a lose-lose proposition (at least weatherwise). So, I say proudly, I can't wait to visit my childhood friend of 28 years in Tucson...because it's been 8 years since I saw her last, and because she lives in the warm place. Where smiles and sunshine abound. Lovely :)

This past weekend I watched "Sweeney Todd" on DVD. I was totally excited to see it...which is why I can't believe I'm saying this...I was bored by it! I never thought a movie-musical about a cute, murderous barber in England would could ever be boring. But I found it a snooze-fest. And this is coming from a gal who loves all things dark, scary, mysterious and horror-filled. Oh, and all things sarcastic, cheeky and musical. Maybe everyone else loved it. Maybe I'm crazy. But I'll take Johnny Depp in Pirates any day!

This past weekend I also saw the musical JERSEY BOYS. It rocked!!! I loved it...and I want to see it about 10 more times (ok, maybe two more times...I'm not made of money). It was the first musical I've seen where I haven't been bored at all. Yes, I admit, there were moments of boredom when I saw CATS (in '85...oy), PHANTOM, and LION KING. I still need to see Wicked...that's on my to-do list. Along with getting a tattoo one day. We'll see which one happens first ;)

Right now I'm reading Diablo Cody's (screenwriter of Juno, Chicagoland native) autobiography of her year spent stripping in Minnesota (I know, BRRRR, right?) and it rocks. She has the best "voice" I've read in a long time. Snarky, funny, honest and a bit woeful. Love it. Thank you, Stacey K., for lending it to me!

That's really all the aimless rambling I had in mind for this post. Although I do have to say that I was doing laundry this weekend (major miracle, but not the point...see, I have to go outside to access the wondrous cleaning machines) and when I opened my back door, I spooked a squirrel who was, for some reason, hanging out on the stairwell railing. See...I DO have squirrel karma. I'd really rather have millionaire karma, but a gal's gotta take what she can and work with it. Next month is the SATC movie...another tangent...but SO worth it. Cannot wait!!! But, if Carrie and Big don't end up together I'm gonna be one cross bee, I tell ya. Not to be confused with a Crosby. That ain't nowhere near me.

Happy almost tax-deadline day. I sit next to accountants...believe me, even I'm looking forward to 4/15!!!

Peace, love and chocolate :)

GB flying away (well, soon)

I Have Squirrel Karma

I'm convinced my karma, or at least my brain, is inextricably skewed towared squirrels. I have no idea why my mind has wandered down this particular fluffy-tailed path of thought on this particular bloggin evening, other than I must have just thought back to my latest "squirrel-involved tall tale" from last week (more on that below), and realized that squirrels have somehow become a theme with me (better than hedgehogs, I guess). Consider the following:

• EXHIBIT A: The Joyriding Squirrel -- long ago (about 9 years back) in a land far away (Northbrook, or thereabouts) my beau and I took a shortcut (read: we took a longer route to avoid paying for parking) through the woods surrounding the Botanic Gardens in order to gain entry sans parting with our much-valued money. In so doing, we were forced to climb, scramble and jump over many fallen logs and various other forest-like debris. Following a lovely afternoon spent staring at flora, fauna and the occasional goose, we made our way back to the car, where, at said moment, my beau discovered that his car keys were not in his pocket, where he had previously placed them. Long-story-short...they had fallen out of his pocket somewhere in the woods during our stealth garden-entry maneuvering escape. I was forced to drive him back downtown to get his spare keys, then all the way back to his car. On the drive back, I surmised that his car would probably be gone. When questioned as to how I arrived at this interesting (insane) conclusion, I responded that I believed a squirrel most likely found his keys in the woods, and somehow has made its way to the parking lot where his Jeep was currently chilling. Of course, the squirrel tried all the locks of all the cars (this was pre-remote keyless entry) and upon successfully gaining access to his four-wheel-drive wonder, cranked the engine and raced out to 294...swerving and speeding, as almost all squirrels tend to do, heading up north to Wisconsin where an underaged squirrel (he was only 2 in squirrel years -- the fact that there is no such thing as "squirrel years" did not phase me...and of course, this was the only weird part of my tale) can party in style. That was my story. Of course, the Jeep was there when we got back. And somehow my now ex-beau did not have me committed to a little padded cell at that very moment. His bad.
• EXHIBIT B: Wheeling Squirrels Are Crazy:Part 1 -- Prior to living in Evanston, I inhabited this glorious eutopia commonly referred to as Wheeling, IL. Such splendid strip malls, manufacturing plants and apartment complexes I never did see. Ah, but I digress. In my particular apartmental paradise, I had the pleasure on living in a first floor apartment overlooking scenic "Parking lot C"...with a first-rate view of the dumpster. Anywho, since the parking lot was essentially the view out my living room patio, I couldn't help but observe my parked car, and the cars of my neighbors, right there in front of my face. Well, this curious thing would happen when the weather warmed and the squirrels began to run free. The squirrels would gather a good 20 or 30 feet in front of the parked cars (on the lawn in front of my patio, in fact) and then one by one would take a running leap at my car (or those right by it). They would run right at the hood of a car as fast as their fluffly little feet would carry them over the un-mowed grass, then leap onto the hood. I believe their ultimate goal was to leap far enough to get to the windshield and then scurry onto the roof (as one or two actually achieved this lofty goal). The thing was, most of the squirrels landed (flat on their bellies with all four feet/paws/whatever splayed out, I must add!) about halfway up the hood of whichever car they'd chosen, and then slid right back down the front of the hood...over the fender...and back to the grass. I kid you not. It was like watching a real-life road runner cartoon, minus the coyote and the Acme products. To this day, I'm convinced it was some strange squirrel gang initiation of some sort...if they made it to the roof they were official "fluff brothers" or something like that. Word (yes, I am a dork, and I'm ok with that).
• EXHIBIT C: Wheeling Squirrels Are Crazy: Part 2 -- So not only did the Wheeling squirrels take running leaps at parked cars. They took them at my sliding door screen. Yep. You read right. I'd be sitting in my living room watching TV and sense movement out of the corner of my eye. I'd look out the window in time to see a squirrel running at me, full tilt. And at the last minute it would leap at my window, for some reason trying to land as high up on my screen as possible. The funniest part was post-leap, when, after the high of flying without wings wore off, the little furballs would panic and not know how to get down. They would freeze, and end up just plastered there on my screen door...like a bug that splattered on a windshield. Now that's entertainment! And, I'm convinced, how I ended up with a squirrel in my ceiling. My theory is that this particular squirrel made it all the way to the top of my screen, where it found a hole in the brick above my sliding glass door and wriggled in to investigate. Bad timing for Mr. Squirrel. See, as I would learn later, the same week Mr. S let curiousity get the best of him, the building maintenance crew made its rounds and sealed all holes and cracks on the outside of all buildings in the complex. So...the squirell got in, but couldn't get out. I happened to be home from work on the day Mr. S got stuck. Sitting there, I kept hearing this click click click sound running above my head. It took a second for me to realize all apartments were carpeted, and no pets were allowed. Ergo, there was an animal (at this point I didn't know of what species or origin) in my ceiling. I kept hearing it run from the vicinity of the kitchen to pretty much where the sliding door was...well, really, it would go "click, click, click, click, click, click, bam." See, it knew where it had gotten in, but just didn't grasp the whole "can't get out that way" concept. For a week, mostly at night, if would run full tilt (see the pattern here) toward that corner and then I'd hear "bam" as it hit the wall. Finally, animal control came out, sawed a hole in my kitchen wall about the cabinets and set a trap. At 7:00 a.m. the next morning I heard a twang, followed by wimpering unlike anything I'd ever heard. I crept into the kitchen to find the fluffiest darn squirrel I'd ever seen trapped in a metal box suspended above my refrigerator. Huh, now there's a sight you don't see every day. And, I can say, I now know what it's like when squirrels cry!
• EXHIBIT D: The Squirrel Whisperer -- That's me. Apparently I speak squirrel. Who knew? One day, while sitting on a bench by the "fake man-made pond" at my glorious Wheeling apartment, a squirrel came foraging for whatever it is that they forage for. Well, it was making it's little chittering squirrel-sound, so I decided to mimick it. I have no idea why. I can only surmise I was extremely bored. Which makes sense...I was in Wheeling, after all. So, I start making chittering sounds that I think approximate what I hear coming from the little fluffball, and the darndest thing happens -- it stops chittering and eating whatever it was eating, sits up on its hind legs, pricks its ears back and listens. Encouraged, I chitter some more. And the squirrel turns to me. So I chitter again, and it starts coming towards me. I keep it up, and in a minute or so it's at my feet looking up at me. And it is at that moment that I began to panic. See...I have NO IDEA what I'd been saying to the fluffball. All of a sudden I imagine I promised it food, or the keys to a Jeep, or proposed marriage and I start to believe I better get the heck out of dodge. See, the squirrel looks like it's about to jump in my lap -- and getting mauled by an angry, vampire-squirrel (yes, I was convinved it would go for my neck) was just not on my list of things to do that day. So I start making regular people sounds (the kind that ususally scare fluffballs of all kinds away) and soon enough he scampers off. Phew...how would I have explained that engagement to my parents?
• EXHIBIT E: All Squirrels Are Romantics -- The week before last my office-mate lost his wedding ring in the parking lot of our office. It was the day of the "honking huge and freaking ridiculous end-of-March snowstorm" and he had run out in the middle of the day to clean off his car a little. Afterwards, he had snow all over his sleeves and shook them out rather vigorously (his words, not mine...I wasn't there) before going back inside. Well, appartenly his wedding ring was big, and somehow in the bout of shaking had flown off his finger into our parking lot oblivion. When he relayed this story to me, I told another office mate that my belief was that the ring was gone...a squirrel probably came along and swiped it. Said squirrel was probably thinking about proposing to his true love, and it was just his luck to come across such a golden ring at such a time. In fact, I figured at that moment he was down on one leg or paw or however squirrels proposed and asking his best, fluffiest gal to marry him. A week later my office-mate found his ring...about 7 cars away from where he'd parked. I told him that the squirrel's proposal must have been unwelcome, and having been rejected by his only true love, came back to the scene of his fateful ring encounter and just dumped it anywhere...happy to be rid of the foul thing and convinced that WI is where he'll find his true squirrel-love. If only he had a Jeep...

Case closed. And yes, I do realize I'm a more than a few fries short of a happy meal! Hey, at least the Evanston squirrels keep to themselves. For now :) Green Bee gone...

GB

Nature v. Nurture v. Whatever Comes to Mind

So...I've been thinking lately. The whole nature v. nurture argument...how much weight does that hold. Which holds more influence? And can either nature or nurture ever be changed? See...I am an adopted child. An adopted only child...one who was adopted at 3 days old. The only familial environment I know is the one I was raised in. Yet I ended up being almost 100% different from my family in likes/dislikes/hopes/dreams/talents. The only aspect where I remotely resemble my family is in "learned behaviors" -- not sharing feelings, being fiercely private and independent, hiding problems instead of talking about them.

The real impetus (sorry for "big word usage here"...not writing to impress, just couldn't think of a better word in this instance) for this blog is my looking back on my upbringing and marveling at how I turned out. I grew up in a, for lack of a better descriptor, beige world. Literally. The carpets in my house were beige. The car we owned was beige. The furniture spanned a spectrum of beige hues from "vanilla" to "cocoa" and "taupe" to "brown." I was not allowed to paint my bedroom walls or hang anything on said walls. I couldn't pick my comforter (or my clothes...until I was in high school). There was really no outlet for self-expression, at least one would think. I mean, there were (and still aren't) any books in the house where I grew up, no music (no stereo, records, tapes or CDs). There is no computer. There are only three DVDs in said residence. No magazines...no anything. Yet I somehow grew up to love reading, books and horror novels in particular. We didn't have cable, yet I somehow devour all things pop culture. I LOVE music, though I didn't start listening to it until college (my 300+ CD collection proves it...though my iPod rendered even those obsolete). I love to write (stories, poems, whatever), draw, paint, sketch, make jewelry, dance (tap, mostly), play basketball, watch TV and play board games. Somehow, my environment growing up had nothing to do with who I became.

And yet it did. Because I learned to not talk about anything personal. I got the message that being a woman was something shameful and secretive. I got the message that men are asses. And most are, mind you, but certainly not all. I got the message that I was different, strange...a traitor for not 100% believing in the religion, life views, ideologies that my family did. And, oh yeah, I'm about a half foot taller than everyone in my family. That's interesting at family gatherings :)

So...I guess I'm torn. Nature? Nurture? Nothing but genetics? What's the deal, folks? I don't have the answer. And I'm not sure I'd want it.

Okay, donkey...on to other topics:

• All Hail Furby -- do you remember those annoying little toys...looked like cuter versions of Gremlins...yet had the ability to "learn"? Well, a long time ago, circa 1999 I had one. And it drove me nuts. Not only did it not "learn" anything...it wouldn't go to sleep. All it would do is repeat "me scared"..."it's dark in here"..."me hungry"...and other such gems. One day (it was asleep at this point, by some miracle I may add) I'd had enough and as I was taking out the trash I decided to throw the annoying little bugger away. Well, the motion of tossing it into the trash bag woke it up. So, as I'm walking across the parking lot of my apartment complex to pitch my garbage, the darn thing starts talking. Yep...I'm walking by my neighbors carrying a trash bag that keeps saying "Furby scared"..."it's dark in here"... and "let's play." Needless to say, I got more than a few odd looks. And I'd venture to guess that every time someone tossed something into the dumpster from then until the garbage men came would trigger that darned blasted toy to speak again...freaking out everyone. I can't help but look back and laugh...it was the first and last time I've had "talking trash!" :)
• Once More, With Feeling -- it's been a good year since I indulged in listening to the Buffy "musical episode" on CD. And it still rocks. I mean, they got the mustard out. What more can I say? My only regret is that I missed out on the musical episode theater revival tour (a la Rocky Horror Picture Show) before the greedy powers that be whined about not making money off of it and put the grand ole kibosh on it. Boo hoo :( Give me something to sing about, man!
• Yea Spring -- or the semblance of a possibility that in some realm in the near future there will exist, in any approximation, a form of slightly warmer weather historically referred to as "spring." Yeah, gotta love '08.

That's all the mindless blather that's fit to print. "I'll never tell!" :) GB silent.

Poem Is Me

Very brief blurb tonight...these days find me one waaaay busy bee. But I promised a friend (note to self: watch what you promise!) I'd post one of my poems, so here you go...read it and weep. Or maybe just read it...weeping would be construed as an unfavorable reaction :)

Green B buggin out!

Tactile Turn

One look back, one last look
Turned her into a pillar of salt
So you made margaritas
And drowned your sorrows in regret

Could have saved her the trouble
And you the sin
An apple a day
Kept the doctor at bay
But not the snake

So you sold your soul
For a tabloid day
That in dog years equals ten

Then reformed your conviction
In the court of opinion
For water
To dilute your wine

Casual encounter turned cautionary tale
Urban legend, suburban shame
Spirited a ghost
Surrendered the game
Plundered the treasure of another new name

The Power of Words

Last night, this little bee had the pleasure of buzzing, literally, with a group of work partners and clients at a post-really-long-meeting gathering. One of the folks there proposed the idea of us all going around the table and sharing the "one thing someone said to you in your life that you never forgot." Very cool suggesstion...of course, this tending-to-fall-mute-lately bee drew a blank. Buzz-kill :( Hours later -- having sufficiently slept and properly hydrated -- I find that there are, indeed, not one but a few hurtful, flattering or just plain interesting verbal gems I've been handed over the years...here goes (no judgment from the peanut gallery...that means you, cashew):

• "You are butt and flat" (as in you are butt ugly and flat-chested...as stated to me in response to the very reasonable "why won't you go out with me?" query of a 7th grade crush. Guess there's a reason they're called "crushes, eh? Alas...I can say there has only been siginificant improvement on one of those two fronts...ha...pun truly not intended there!)
• "If this is representative of what you can do, I highly recommend you consider grad school" (told to me by my philosphy professor following us turning in our first essay assignment -- a philosopher's commentary on the state of health care reform in what was then 1996 -- and my getting the only A in the class.)
• "Why don't you love me like everyone else loves me?" (as queried to me by, at that time, a very drunk work friend -- I say at that time because we are no longer friends...as for whether she is still very drunk, well that I cannot say -- following my not allowing her to drive home and insisting she crash, literally, at my place. Stumped for a response, all I could utter was "how does everyone else love you?" and at which time she promptly passed out. I never did find out how everyone else loves her...to be honest, I'm a little scared to know!)
• "You can't unring a bell" (as told to me by a smart, insightful friend -- and former bell-owner -- in response to lamenting my myriad family woes of late...see previous post for snippet. The good news is, you can "not ring" it again...says a now former-bell-owner herself.)
• "Okay Donkey" (ok, so this wasn't "said" to me...it was "written" to me in an e-mail from a friend whose spell check had run amok. She was responding to sappy e-mail I'd written her, and meant to end it with "okey dokey" -- for some reason my signature phrase at the time and something she knew would make me smile -- and didn't catch that her spell-check function had automatically converted the phrase. Well, I did smile...in fact, I think I laughed to so hard I snorted coffee out my nose -- lovely picture, I know...at least it wasn't hot anymore -- and to this day I have a clip-art picture at my desk of a little donkey with the caption "Okay Donkey." I say it all the time, and as goofy as it is, that friend, and this phrase, will always hold significant meaning in my life!)

So fellow buzzers, any of y'all have something someone once said (or wrote) to you that has always stayed with you and you'd like to share? If so, share away. I'm off to brew some coffee (to be consumed the normal-not-through-the-nose way, of course). Okay Donkey.

Green B Out

Silent Lucidity

Hi everyone,

Yes, I have been absent for a very long time. I apologize. Life, as it were, got in the way. This will be a brief post. My aunt Wendy passed away last week of liver cancer...she was a special, wonderful woman...and I dedicate this short, yet meaningful post to her memory.

I promise to post meaningless, sarcastic diabtribes soon! Honest engine.

Long live everyone,

Black & blue Green B

Quote Me On It

Very brief post tonight...just wanted to get out there a few of my favorite movie/book quotes...and then ask y'all to respond by telling me yours (after all, turnabout is indeed fair play):

- "What about the twinkie?"
-"Oh no, it's already out there..."
-"Bring me a shrubbery!"
-"Looks like someone's got a case of the Mondays"
-"And you, you little shit, you're staying here!"
-"Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?"
-"I prefer not to"
-"What you buy is what you own, and sooner or later what you own comes back to you"
-"Can you vague that up a little?"
-"Oh, it's entirely pointy!"
-"Beer bad"
-"Game over, man, game over!"
-"I feel better"
-"Can you describe the ruckus?"

Ok, I'm spent. Happy evening to all, and to all a quote-y night :)

GB

Random Acts of Thinking

Today's post is a mishmash, if you will, of random thoughts that have been floating around in my head. Even if it weren't random, I just really wanted to use the word mishmash in a sentence :) Yes, I'm being goofy...but I woke up to find it's about negative 2 degrees in my apt (after it was about 102 degrees last night)...so methinks the steam heat has gone awry (yes, brilliant stroke of deductive reasoning, I admit!)...and mehopes it will right itself soon...before my tooth-chattering actually chips a tooth (I like my nice teeth...would like to keep them)! Anywho...

LOST rocks! This season of LOST has been my favorite to date. Every episode answers at least one question or solves at least one mystery, yet leaves us with a bizillion (that's a real, real lot) more questions. The pace is fast, and I can't help but look forward to Thursday nights. I've always watched LOST, but even I must admit that season 2 and parts of season 3 were Boring (yep, with a capital B). I sure am glad I never gave up on this particular show!

DEXTER fooled me. When I heard it was coming to CBS, given that season 1 and season 2 have already aired on Showtime, I made the mistake of assuming this was season 3 premiering (yes, I know what happens to u and me when one assumes). Silly girl, new episodes are for kids. To my disappointment, when I went to watch the tape of this past Sunday's first CBS showing (yes, you read correctly, I said tape...as in VCR...as in unless I tell it to tape something, it ain't going to grow a brain and decide to tape it for me...and it won't then tape anything I might even remotely like based on the show it just taped...what can I say, I'm old school baby) it was the first show of the first season of DEXTER, which it just so happens I finished wathcing in a DVD marathon just last week. Figures!

*I must interrupt this regularly scheduled post to note that, as I type, I hear a hissing sound. Either my dilinquent radiator has reconsidered its position on the whole "no heat for you" stance, or I've got motherf- snakes in my motherf- dining room. I'm hoping it's the former.

Hope. It's what I've been holding on to, foolishly, to get me through the winter-that-will-not-end. In all the years I've lived at my current rental eutopia, I never once thought there would ever be the real possibility I could ice skate to my car. Ha. Such is my narrow mind. See, ever since the last honking huge snowfall a few weeks back (you know, the one where the whole world somehow ran out of ice), my street turned into a major, and quite permanent, sheet of ice. Even this week, innocent shoppers parking along my street to run into Great Harvest for a mere loaf of bread found themselves unable to get out of their parking spots. At least three times a week I've heard the telltale signs of tires whining...failing to gain purchase on what was once road but is now, apparently, Lake Evanston. And the whole "let's put down sand since we ran out of salt idea" didn't go over too well. All we ended up with is sandy ice...just as slippery, but now a lovely shade of beige. I cannot wait until (yes, I said until...I know this denotes hope that Spring will come, but what can I say, I'm a glutton for punishment) it finally warms up enough to melt this freaking ice once and for all. Until then, I skate to my car!

*Now there is hissing and clanging I hear...hooray for heat (at least I hope it's heat and not someone somehow trapped in the boiler room after going to investigate why it's negative 2 degrees in our building...and is now clanging on the pipes in a desperate attempt to be rescued...can you tell I read a lot of Stephen King?)!

NIU. This particular nugget won't be sarcastic. I want to extend my sympathies, condolences and thoughts to the families, friends and loved ones of those who were hurt and killed in the NIU tragedy. NIU is my alma mater...Cole Hall was the first building where I had classes as a freshman. I met one of my best friends there during freshman math...sat in the back of the hall and listened to her tales of going home on weekends because she'd just started dating the man she's now married w/children to. I had my first NIU crush there, too. I can't even fathom that this has happened. I considered posting a long blog dedicated just to this, but I admit I'm at a loss for what else to say. NIU will always be part of my history and my life...it's a great school that I hope can somehow find a way to go on in this sad time.

String cheese. I am a gal who does not cook. Not as in "I don't feel like it, so I rarely do it." As in "I have never cooked. Not once. The stove serves as a large, cumbersome decorative element." So, it would reason that I don't grocery shop as often as most. A few weeks back, I ventured to the store for a few items, and for some reason as I passed the dairy case on the way to the milk I knew, with absolute certainty, that string cheese was exactly what I needed. I used to love it as a kid, but truth be told haven't eaten it since high school. But who am I to balk in the face of absolute certainty. So I bought myself a pack...and guess what?? I can't stop eating it. It's my new favorite snack. It's like I've never had any form of cheese before, and not that I've tasted the blessed substance, I want nothing else. Perhaps I was part mouse in a former life? All I can say is I finished the last of the string cheese last night, and now I'm sad...I totally could have gone for some as a breakfast dish this a.m. Oh well, guess I'll have to strap on my ice skates and venture to the store.

*Houston, we have heat. Lovely :)

That's a wrap! (Signed the-no-longer-blue-due-to-hypothermia Green B...well, at the moment I'm more of a turquoise B, but who's splitting hairs)

Book Weather

Ok, I must start by saying that I cannot believe it's only February 10. It feels like this particular winter decided to come in "dog weeks" or something, and what may be only 10 weeks in traditional hang-on-your-wall calendar time has actually been half of year or so of "OMG will this freaking season ever end?!?!".

I've decided this is perfect book weather. To which I'm sure the rest of the world (or at least just those who read this) will go...DUH. I guess I'm a late adopter of this conclusion because for some reason I equate reading with summer...walking to the park or going to the lakefront and sitting in the sun while reading a good book. And winter I equate with movie weather. Staying inside and binging on Dexter Sex and the City DVD marathons, or venturing out to the nearest 100-theater monstrosity to catch a good (or even mediocre, I'm not picky) flick. So I think my recent book-in-cold weather conversion stems from the fact that there are a lot of interesting books I'm either reading or want to read...and that hasn't been the case for a while. Here are some (ok, five) of the books I'm in to at the moment:

1. You Suck (A Love Story), by Christopher Moore: This is the sequel to his working girl in San Francisco turned vampire and hilarity ensues novel (Bite Me). Both are awesome. Being the fan of sarcasm that I am, his writing cracks me up...it's kitschy, snarky and amusing. I only started reading Christopher Moore books last year, but if you like quirky, not your run-of-the-mill books, he's just the ticket (The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal is another gem). You can check out his writing at www.chrismoore.com.
2. Duma Key, by Stephen King: I just started this one, so I'm not so much endorsing this particular novel (though it's already intriguing only 40 pages in) as I am endorsing Stephen King. He is my favorite author of all time -- his writing technique is excellent, his character development rocks, and for a gal who loves horror and all things odd, he's hands down the best.
3. First Among Sequels (A Thursday Next Novel), by Jasper Fforde: This is the fifth book in Fforde's Thursday Next literary detective series. This inventive series spotlights a literaray detective who, literally, polices books. She (and her band of wacky, and brialliantly named, characters) can travel into, out of and through books (genres be damned) in a world where everything written is not as it seems. All five books in this series are kooky, intriguing and hella clever. Fforde also has a "nursery crimes" series that starts with The Big Over Easy (the mystery of who killed Humpty Dumpty) -- again, awesome!
4. The Heroines, by Eileen Favorite: I just bought this one, but it's reminiscent of Jasper Fforde and so I'm putting it out there as a "this one has potential to be good" pick. In this tome, a mother and her young teenage daughter run a "retreat where literaray herioines seek temporary refuge from their tragic destinies." Madame Bovary sharing a bathroom with Scarlett O'Hara? What could be bad :)
5. Me and Emma, by Elizabeth Flock: Ok, this one I read a few years back...but after lending it to a co-worker last week and having her tell me she liked it, I remembered that I really liked it to. It's pretty much a straight-forward fiction novel of a little girl trying to survive a tough life, but the last 20 pages make it great. It's one of those you'll have to go back and flip through once you've finished and go "how'd I miss THAT?".

I freely admit I have unconventional (understatement of the year) taste when it comes to books that tickle my fancy. So if you end up reading one of these books, and don't like it, well...all I can say is...what the heck is wrong with you anyway?

Tangent time -- on a totally unrelated note, there's this road sign close to where I live that truly cracks me up every time I drive by it. I don't pass it often, but very shortly I'll be meeting a friend for coffee and will be taking the funny-sign route...hence it just popped into my ice-damned mind. Ok, so we've all seen those "crossing" signs on the road...most with icons demonstrating how cute little creatures prefer to line up and cross the street in this particular location...in case the words on the sign are unclear (deer crossing, wildlife crossing, and my personal favorite, duck crossing). Well, in this case there's a road that is bordered on one side by a cemetary and on the other by a retirement home. So last year I'm driving along and for the first time notice there's a yellow warning sign with "Senior Citizen Crossing" on it. I stared at it for a beat, then promptly burst out laughing so hard my eyes teared up and my vision blurred...further making me laugh as I then worried about not seeing well in this particular crossing zone. I'm not sure if it's the picture of 10 senior citizens clumped up along the roadside...starting to cross, then shuffling back as an oncoming car approaches...or the fact that, unlike deer, the threat of a senior citizen leaping into the road so quickly you'd have to slam on your brakes is slim to nil...but that signs makes me giggle every time. And as I leave now to meet my friend for coffee...I promise to keep my eyes peeled as I once again venture into the senior citizen crossing zone!

Green B Out

Chicago Winters Suck

That's all I can bring myself to write...the title of this blog...after today's hellacious commute home. I love chi-town (insert bitter sarcastic self-effacing tone for choosing to stay in the midwest here). Ciao (if only we were in Italy).

Green and freezing B.

Guest Buzzzz -- Courtesy of Stacey Klemstein

The Green Bee asked me to write about what I know now that I wish I'd known in college. And me being me, I can never resist a chance to check my hindsight--yep, still perfect. : ) (Funny note, I never understood that saying about hindsight being 20/20 until I saw it written out and realized it was "sight" and not "site." Yeah, I know.)

Anyway...

I wish I'd known in college that:

I could pursue my dreams from the beginning. Back then, writing was something I did for papers and such. Writing fiction seemed like a distant dream. Something other more talented people did because it was easy for them. It was not easy for me, so therefore, it must not be something I could do. Oy. It kills me to think about all the time I lost, all the learning I could have done about my craft ten years earlier.

Corporate America was not a good fit for me. By the time senior year rolled around, I was so ready to be DONE. I wanted a job in Corporate America. Wanted to wear a suit and carry a briefcase. I imagined making smart, incisive comments in meetings, using my talent to communicate significant information in a friendly and helpful manner to people, and being promoted to the corner office in record time. I did NOT imagine meetings with little or no purpose other than to fill calendar hours, using my talent to communicate useless information in legally approved but inaccessible language, and sitting in a cube for years...with 3% raises.

Now, lest you think that my experience has disillusioned me, I must say that even if I were now granted my original vision of corporate life, I would run screaming in the opposite direction. At the time, I didn't know enough about myself or what truly made me feel like I was living. I guess that's why my dad says life is an experience, not a test. Thank God, or I'd have flunked.

Still, I wish I known all of this before I got used to things like a stable salary, benefits and other luxuries. It would have made this transition I'm working on (to being a full-time author) a lot easier!

The comfort and sense of community I felt from living so closely with my friends would be difficult to replicate after graduation and hard to obtain elsewhere. As a kid, I moved. A lot. About every three to four years, I'd be starting a new school. I got used to always being the new kid. That horrible tense feeling in the pit of your stomach when you walk into a new school, not knowing a single other person in the building. Trying to figure out who you are in the context of these new surroundings.

Never in my life have I ever felt so safe, accepted and loved as I did when I was living at Valpo. I was weird and awkward and prone to saying stupid things at the wrong time, but people still liked me…or at least, tolerated me with grace! Being different was okay. Expected even. Not to mention, my parents were still paying most of the bills, I didn't have to worry about anybody else but me, and lots of people I cared about and who cared about me lived less than twenty feet away, accessible just about any time. It's different being a "grown-up." More responsibility, less community. More worries, less fun. More freedom in some senses and less in others.

I was excited for graduation. All the way until the night before. Then, it hit me that I was leaving, closing a door on something I'd loved. I threw up that night for the first time in all four years, just from the nerves and anxiety. : )

Doing bad things (i.e. non-parentally approved activities) doesn't make you a bad person and sometimes it’s fun...in moderation. In other words, drink more and worry less! I come from a very conservative family. There is no making mistakes. No trying something out to see if you like it, if it fits you. There is only doing something and doing it well. And not doing things that will "mess up" your life. Can't say I disagree with that entirely, but I think a little more exploration then, in a relatively safe environment where everyone was trying to figure out who they were, would have made me more worldly and less frightened of the unknown.

Naps are scarce after college. I would have taken more! Nothing like sinking into your bed (after pulling back the fully tightened and attached-with-a-staple-gun sheets--only one person is going to get that and he knows who he is) with gritty and dry eyes after an eight a.m. class and sleeping until you feel human. Listening to the sounds of the dorm and life moving on around you as you drift off. What a delicious luxury. Naps—oh, how I miss thee!

I should appreciate the experience more, savor it. I love learning, intellectual discussion and analysis. Not much room for that in everyday life. No three a.m. discussions about the nature of free will and the existence of God. I miss that. Things just move too quickly out here.

This has been the Buzzz from Stacey K!

And this is the Green Bee herself -- saying a huge THANK YOU to my awesome friend Stacey for that kick-ass post! I'll be back posting soon...my muse has been out of whack. But I've ordered more whack...should arrive any day.

GB

Are You Suggesting That Coconuts Migrate?

Feeling kind of silly today. Thought it only appropriate to begin today's blog with a silly title, one that pays to homage to my favorite (and truth be told, the only one I like) Monty Python movie. Other gems from said flick that I quote (often, at random, and many times out loud to the bewilderment of those around me include: "Fight like a man"; "It's merely a flesh wound"; "I'm not dead"; "I got better"; and the classic "Bring me a shrubbery!"

Ok, so you get that I have a highly sarcastic humor threshold. In life I find it either serves me well, or gets me in trouble (depending on the day). I must take this moment to say YEA! Why, you ask? Because it appears there was a reason behind my the Sunday morning hijinks I copped to in my previous post -- I was getting sick. Not a half hour after writing that post, I came down with a bitch of a cold. Not one to complain while sick, I'd rather celebrate after the fact. Huge shout out for wellness! Ok, enough crazy talk.

I have this awesome new tear-off calendar (Christmas gift from my talented amiga Stacey K.) called "Getting in Touch with your Inner Bitch." It contains an great mix of motivational thoughts, snarky comments and amusing quotes. Here's my favorite snarky comment so far, under the heading An Inner Bitch History Lesson: "On this date in 1697, Massachusetts colony officially regretted the Salem witch hunt with a day of fasting. Yeah, that makes up for everything..." LOVE it! Especially when I think, hey, what if those theories about moldy bread are right? I mean, they wouldn't be eating anyway...pretty convenient.

Ok, some random thoughts to end this random blog:

• Why the heck don't they make a tylenol or advil patch for times when you desperately need medication, but can't keep solids or liquids down?
• Who got the bright idea to come up with "sticky keys"? You know, that annoying function that mysteriously takes over your computer if you hit the shift key five times in a row. I'm a writer...I often go to start a sentence with a capital letter (craziness, I know) and, because I can't decide how said sentence should start, I get the sticky keyed. Arrgh. (Ok, is it wrong that the phrase sticky keys somehow reminded me of Phoebe's song "Smelly Cat"...you remember FRIENDS right?...and now I've got "Sticky keys, sticky keys, why are they typing you?" in my head?)
• American Idol is back on. Laughter and mocking abound.

That's all the buzzz that's fit to blog. Time to go eat dinner. For those of you who know me, you know that's code for time to go nuke something in the microwave that I didn't cook because I never ever EVER cook :) A snarky evening to all, and to all a good night.

GB

I Love Football

For some reason, I've very much been looking forward to watching the playoff games this weekend. I love football...I'm not a crazed fan of any one team (I love my Bears, but I always admit that they're dunces most of the time)...I just love the season and knowing on the weekend I can turn on a game and just watch. My mom loves football...and I grew up watching it with her. I'm not sure if she watched yesterday, but I was heartily disappointed and a little in awe about Green Bay's victory and, I have to admit, a little sad that New England is still undefeated. Will the Colts and Dallas win today? Time will tell...

For some reason I woke up at 6:30 this morning and could not fall back asleep. Whenver I'm up way too early on a weekend morning, I get a bit disoriented for the rest of the day. Like, this morning in the shower I decided to squeeze shampoo onto the washcloth instead of actualy soap. That was interesting. Then soon after, in the course of getting dressed, when I went to put mositurizing lotion on my arms I, instead, slathered liquid hand soap (albeit awesome warm sugar vanilla soap from Bath and Body Works...love that stuff, when used for its intended purpose, that is) all over me. *Sigh*

Friday night I ended up going to my sister's house for dinner. We're eight years apart (I'm younger) and for reasons I won't go into right now, didn't see each other for a long stretch of time spanning most of the middle of our lives. So now when I see her with her kids and see what an awesome person and mother and wife and woman she is, I can't help but wish we could turn time back so I can see the journey she went through to get there. It's like a blackout...I remember her as a young teenager...and I know her now. It's like I blinked and we grew up. Just like that. But she's one of my favorite people now, as is my other sister who is ten years older than me and likewise as awesome, and I'm just glad I get to see them now :)

This isn't a pithy or sarcastic post. Sorry about that. I think pithy and sarcastic stayed in bed, knowing full well how idiotic it is to get up at 6:30 a.m. ON A SUNDAY. Oy.

Happy football watching!!

Green Bee

This and that

This: So after work I decided to be diligent (a rare feat) and stop at the grocery store on my way home from work. I live in the Chicago area, which as of this afternoon has been blanketed by a persistent, annoying drizzle+ (as drizzly as you can get without being outright rain). Upon exiting my car to enter said store, the "cart guy" (not sure what the official title would be...but, you know, the unlucky bastard who is sent to retrieve the carts...weather be damned) offers me, and a few other about-to-be-patrons the option to "grab a cart" before entering the store. All I could think was "Yeah, I want a soaking wet cart to fill up with cardboard containers that will absorb the moisture and spoil the food inside. Brilliant. I LOVE wasting money." What I said was, "No, thanks." Score one for civility. And one for utter stupidity.

That: I am offiically in love with Netflix. I am currently in the throes of a Dexter, Season 1 marathon and, I must say, for a gal who only has basic cable, this rocks! I admit, I am the ultimate lazy person, so having a DVD delievered to my doorstep is akin to staying in bed all day -- heaven! Now, if there was just a way to do the same with books (you know, to read and mail back), I'd be in utter heaven!

The Other: I work in a very small office. Not even 9 folks total. To top that off, we "office share." Which means I'm surrounded by folks who aren't even a part of my company -- I'm a marketing copywriter and these people are all accountants -- so you can imagine the utter torture I experience on a daily basis. I sit in a cube (yes, I am a prairie dog) across from on said accountant who, every time she sneezes sounds like she's throwing up. I have no idea how this marvel of modern science developed...but every time I say "bless you" I feel like an idiot...and like I should offer her some Pepto or something. Not sure why this irks me (like I should talk...I sneeze so loudly that I'm prone to knock down walls), but it does.

Ok...so here's my funny website recommendation of the day (or week, or month, depending on how often I keep this up): www.superawesomecarnivalbears.net.

Catch you on the flipside.

The Bee Still Known as Green

Virgin Bee

My good friend, and STELLAR author, Stacey Klemstein convinced me to start a blog. Hence, this Virgin Green Bee post. Thank you, Stace. BTW...you can peruse the talented Mrs. Klemstein's site at www.staceyklemstein.com.

Two things you should know about the Green Bee right off the bat. 1) I'm a total dork! 2) I'm jaded as all get out. Ok, knowing this should explain anything you read on this blog from here on out.

Thought for the day: You can lead a horse to water...but be warned...they're pretty smelly when they're wet.

Totally bewildered by my dime-turn thought process? Join the club.

More to come from the no-longer virgin blogger. Thank you for being gentle. It was my first time, after all.

Green Bee