Jeneane Sessum writes about Loss, Love, and Life, not necessarily in that order.
In honor of the 1,000 emails waiting for me after three days away--FIVE of them from people I actually know--my 2004 spam subject predictions...
Fornicate with hardwood furniture!!! xyldm
Alpha, does your dog fetch? x,fko
Get a smaller box, pleeez your man!!!
NEW Table sex - live webcams
SECRET XX Bin Laden tapes--cave girls
Saddamy, Jeneane, try with your girlfriend
End of world - you have an e-card! xmkod
okay, you next!
Back from the Sandestin Hilton, a nice stay, though cold. Did I say cold? Frigging cold. I'm no more a Yankee. I confess it here. I can't take the cold anymore. When my NY friends here me say I was cold in Florida, which they just have, they can take my yankee card away, strip me of my pizza rights, and color me southern.
Okay, there you have it. I'm a southern frigging belle already. Okay? Are you happy? I said it.
BUT the indoor pool and whirlpool were nice, if not filled with water slightly thicker than I remembered water being, something which distressed George more than it did Jenna and I, until I actually examined the pool water and noticed it looked, well, filthy kind of. But that didn't stop us. Mother and daughter on antibiotics battling bronchitis and sinus infections, what the hell could we possibly catch?
Don't answer that.
So we swam and built sand castles and ate out and -- jenna's favorite -- ordered room service and george went deep sea fishing in 6-foot plus waves. Let him tell you about that. He has a stomach made of iron, and I could make a lot of jokes here, but I won't, so I'll shut up.
I never plugged the computer in. I forgot what the Web was. Didn't care about social networks or weblogging awards or google page ranks. I only cared about finding one of those big peach pool towels as soon as they came up from the laundry because they were still WARM and I wasn't.
Fish is really tasty down there on the Gulf.
That is all.
It's this google page rank thing. I see it still at 7/10 and I wonder how little traffic it will take to fall from grace. Yah. That's why I haven't been blogging. Either that or all this frigging cold-n-flu stuff. hack. cough. sneeze.
Went to the doc yesterday. Amazing how quickly i can pack on a case of bronchitis. but, with antibiotics in hand, we are OFF TO FLORIDA for a few days, God willing.
Trying Sandestin this trip. Good hotel deal--one night free. Sand, sun, and at least sixty I hope.
I've never been able to figure out how to get this computer to work on the road. I have bellsouth DSL here at home (fast access) and we go through a router. I don't even remember how to dialup, but I wish i did! Anyway, I'd like to blog from there, but not sure I can figure it out.
Ya'll have a peaceful, easy day.
George and I had a lovely dinner with Halley tonight. She was easy to spot in her cool blonde hair and pretty pink wool sweater--She's a doll and looks just like her pictures. Of course it didn't hurt that she was the only white girl in the hotel lobby. The Boston Anglo thing made her a dead giveaway.
One word of caution. If you have dinner with Halley you really should bring your inhaler. I thought that at least once during dinner when she made me laugh so hard I choked. That Halley--she can make an asthmatic wheeze. She's a blizzard of sunshine that warmed me up to about 80 degrees. Halley's so full of energy and animated when she talks that I found myself moving extra in my chair to keep up with her.
I have a new term for this. I call it "Hallisthenics." You find yourself doing these enthusiastic internal jumping jacks automatically when you talk to Halley.
If you've met Halley, you'll know what I mean.
So, I made it two years without meeting a single solitary blogger outside of this house and my job. Now in just a couple of months, I've met two dinner tables full of Atlanta bloggers, The Wonderful AKMA and Margaret, and now Halley. It messes with your head, this meeting of words in the flesh. I don't know what it means yet, but I know my world is richer for it.
Sweet dreams Halley!
Talked to Halley tonight who has landed safely in our fair and FREEZING city. Hoping to get together tomorrow. Wish us luck--still nursing Jenna through this nasty bug. She's in that phase of not feeling as bad as she was but not feeling well enough to do anything, which to a kid equals boredom. A fate worse than sickness. For a mom too.
Netflix better hurry up with the next delivery. Had to make an emergency trip to Blockbusters to pick up Honey I Blew Up the Baby and Freaky Friday. Hey, whatever gets you through the night.
Everyone's sick down here. We had our first pediatric flu death reported last week. 30 percent of the students at Jenna's school were absent Monday. I didn't ask if things had improved or worsened by the end of the week. Thursday she didn't make it the whole day--I picked her up at the nurse's office sitting with a trash can in front of her ready to... well... you get the picture.
fa la la la la... la la la laaaaaaaaaaaaa.
Sorry. I haven't been writing much because I've been doctoring the little one.
Today's the last day of school for Jenna until after the new year. I hope she can go for a while because they have a little book exchange party.
Eeeks! Better begin a plan for fun once she's feeling better. Must include sun and swimming--just not sure where.
So what went on while I was away? I hear they caught Osama Bin Laden or something. Wow! Finally. The mastermind behind 9/11 can be brought to justice. What a moment for the U.S. and its leaders!
oh. come again? Sadam? They caught Sadam?
Yes. Well. That's nice.
Dr. Sessum says that THIS, in a memo released today on the CDC site, is what's REALLy going on with this year's flu that is killing too many young people. It's the resistant staph that's the dangerous piece of the puzzle, not the flu itself.
CDC Says:
Staphylococcus aureus, often referred to simply as "staph," are bacteria healthy people can carry on the skin or in the nose. Staph bacteria commonly cause skin infections. Most of these infections are minor, appearing as pimples and boils, and are treated without antibiotics.
In addition to skin infections, staph bacteria can cause infections in the blood, in the bones and in the lungs (pneumonia). Most serious staph bacteria infections are treated with an antibiotic related to penicillin. However, over the past 50 years, some staph bacteria have become resistant to antibiotics, including the commonly used penicillin-related antibiotics. These resistant bacteria are called methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus , or MRSA.
Persons infected with influenza are sometimes at higher risk for developing secondary infections, such as pneumonia. During the current U.S. influenza season, several cases of community-acquired MRSA infections, including pneumonias, have occurred in association with influenza infection. This has not been reported previously. [[Bold emphasis mine.]]
Call it a result of the over prescription of antibiotics, call it bioterrorism, call it the End Times. Whatever you call it, watch your kids closely if they get the flu. Staph is nasty and works fast. The best place to be is with IV antibiotics in your arm. I've seen it in action with Jenna when antibiotic-resistant Staph sent her to the hospital after the now-famous cat bite incident.
Stay well ya'll.
Oh, and I'm on a kick now. No eating out til spring. Specially here in atlanta where no one in the kitchens wears gloves.
let this be a lesson to you. Do not EVER not ever enjoy yourself. Do not go for a facial if you have a kid, because you will pay for it. That's where I've been the last couple of days. Paying for it with a sick kid. Ugh. ARGH!
Direct correlation: None
Bad Karma: 25%
Guilt for good time by self: 75%
Anyway, we're trying to get her through this illness without the usual viral-to-bacterial-to-strep=antibiotics treadmill we've been on, which means using any and every weapon against sinus congestion. I've been vapor bathing, I've been vapor cupping, I've been vapor patching, I've been nebulizing, triaminic-ing, and every other ing you can imagine outside of sucking the pleghm from her head with my mouth. Not that it hasn't occurred to me. It has. Geez. I'm losing my mind.
Anyway, she seems to be turning the corner with an RX today for some prescription sinus medicine that's actually working.
Please. All I want is one full night's sleep. Then I'll be ready for whateva.
And I'm sure whateva's right around the corner.
Last night I had a babysitter come (what an invention!!!!) and I went to get a facial. No rude comments, please. I went to Ulta and got a classic mini. I knew nothing about these things except that my friend went last week and said afterward her skin felt as soft as her three-year-old son's.
I said, HEY! I like that. And they had a special. So I went.
What a treat. They spray your face with warm steam and put all kinds of lotions and potions on your face and neck, complete with what felt like cucumbers on my eyes--I couldn't tell because they were closed--and a hot towel wrap. Just like you see in the movies! The massage part was the best. I never realized how tired my face had started looking until afterward.
Anyhow, the classic mini is on special for $35 right now. And well worth it to have your face feel like a baby's butt.
I swear I thought my Czech grandmother made this recipe up until I searched it up on google just now and found proof that it's a Polish/Slovak standard.
We make it a little different. We cut a head or two of cabbage up into thin strips, then put a MESS (that's like almost a stick) of butter in a pan, and sautee the cabbage until it starts to brown and carmelize. This takes a while, and it's an art to get the gas just right so the cabbage gets soft before browning.
While the cabbage is cooking, we boil noodles (shells preferred, so the little soft pieces of cabbage can stick all inside of the shells). We skip the onion. We use lots of salt. When the noodles and cabbage are done, we mix them together and add more salt (and butter if needed, and when is it not?).
Calories: 339,004,005
Sodium: 449,440,000
Taste: Priceless
No surprise here. Bush&Cheney will make it all sound okay, and even if they don't, it won't matter because Bush fanatics, like Limbaugh fanatics, could have proof positive shoved up inside their noses, all the way to their sinuses, and they wouldn't buy it. The if-then-else programming is so deeply ingrained that their brains switch to autopilot when threatened with the truth.
see why i stay out of this political crap? it makes my head explode.
If they run out of the batch of flu vaccine they're buying and importing from Europe, I think I'll take this version of the flu shot instead. I'm not sure it keeps you well, but I don't think you much care about having the flu either.
Check this site out for a slew of good PR links. Must spend some time digging into these.
Zicam works. And I think it's essential backup with killer viruses sweeping across the nation. I wish I had stock in this stuff. How do I get some? I'm a stock idiot. I have no idea.
Zicam works. I've said that since I first used it.
Get some.
Was reading Dr. David's JOHO a few minutes ago, which I always search up via google by typing in "JOHO," because I always type joho.com (wrongly) and so google is how I get to david.
Anyway, I mistakenly (I guess) clicked on google images for JOHO.
I don't know. There are a bunch of men depicted in images entitled joho.gif, and yet, none of them look like the david weinberger I saw at Publix a month or so ago. Unless he looks very different in swim trunks.
Hmmm. I'm ready for a blog version of What's My Line to find out who the real Sir JOHO is.
For the first time since we moved to the south, I got bedroom slippers this winter. I've never been a slipper wearer or a robe wearer, and I don't know if it's that I'm older now or just plain Southern, but I can't take this cold. Today I found myself nostalgic for a parka, you know the kind with a hood and the fuzzy fake fur around your face? Yes. Mmmmmm. Warm.
The heating bill's gonna be crazy next month. 75 degrees and counting.
Well, they still due [sic]. Two invoices past 60 days, three past 30. Things are getting tight. Again.
Ho Ho Ho,
might as well
become a
Ho.
Three empty houses on our street. Two forclosures, one unassed. And I hear the economy's getting better.
Yah, okay.
PTA meeting tonight, which meant 200 or so parents and at least as many kids running crazy through the school, and what is that, 2,000 kid fingers touching, rubbing, grabing, flushing? Oh geez. Time to go disinfect mother and daughter. I already have a headache.
So, I'm meeting with this really neat potential client tomorrow who wants to know more about blogging, maybe jump into it. What do you want me to tell him--i.e. what's your one piece of advice to heads of business looking to blog?
I say:
1) Don't do it like this guy.
2) Don't blog from your business card title--blog from your gut and interests and conversation will follow.
3) Be prepared to get pissed off at the medium about every 7-10 days.
4) Take care with your blogroll.
5) Visit here often for cool shit you can use.
Those are the top five things off the top of my head. And you?
Halley, Is that you behind Dean? Hey, I know you were up there rubbing elbows, but I didn't expect to see your black teddy make the national news.
;-)
This evening Jenna had a baby sitter at our house for the first time ever. Yes, that's right. I had the evening to go to therapy and not worry about where she'd be or if my sister would be feeling up to watching her (she just had surgery, so her recovery will take some time) or if my friend who swaps watching the kids with me was over the flu yet.
I was so excited after group to have the luxury of taking an hour just for me. Not rushing home. I was going to go to a store or two, maybe stop at the mall, something. But the worried mother in me wouldn't let it happen. I called home and continued to get the message that someone was on the phone.
So of course, I'm thinking, "WHY is this baby sitter on the phone--she should be watching my kid!" And I call every five minutes all the way home, forgetting about shopping, nagging at myself about the many failures of human beings, only to walk in the front door and find them sitting blissfully playing with stickers in the living room when I got home.
Apparently, Jenna called my cellphone with the cordless phone, which ran out of batteries while she was dialing, which made the "on the phone" message come on since the receiver was never really hung up.
All of this is to say, I raced home for no reason.
I'll chalk this up as a practice run I guess.
Maybe next time... Maybe next time...
Were Principal McCracker and the local police wrong?
You bet they were. I imagine this conversation taking place between the Principal and the chief of police the week before the raid:
"Hi. McCracker here. You ready?"
"Yep, we're ready to teach those kind a lesson. If they think they're bringing drugs, rap and jungle love into our schools, we've got a biiig surprise for them. Hey, you got those first floor utility closets cleaned out? I want to hide a few men in there--jump out, pull our guns, and scare the pants off their black asses."
"Yes Chief, the school's ready. Now, all the busses from the ghetto get here at 6:45. So get here early. The good kids don't get here until after 7. Now, I don't want a hair harmed on a single blonde head in this place--you understand that, right?"
"Of course! We all know what the dope dealers look like. As long as it's light enough out, we'll be able to see them--A HA HA HA HA--get it McCracker?"
"Good one. Heh. Yah, well, if you pull your guns, you'll be able to see the whites of their eyes get REAL big! HA! Bring some of your drug sniffing dogs with you--okay? I mean, I know you won't find any drugs, but you know how they h-a-t-e dogs, eh? HA HA HA!"
"You got it. Okay. We'll be kicking some young black ass. It'll be a proud day. A proud day."
If a cop pulled a gun on my kid at school because of some lamebrained principal's inability to run the place, you better believe I'd sue. Sue, sue, sue. Either that or kick some serious behind. I'd show that McCracker black. Yah.... Black and blue.
"I know that Governor Dean and Al Gore love the Internet; www.bossism doesn't work on my computer." -- Al Sharpton
Um, that's because you forgot the .com, Mr. Sharpton.
Actually, www.bossism.com does work. Or as we say on the Internet, that domain is taken.
Fortunately for you though Al, bossism.org and .net are still available--Act Now! Send me $500,440 and I'll register them *both* for you! That's a huge savings!
And I expect a link.
Bedtime with jenna, it's always wonderous to watch her mind wind down. Laying there last night, the questions came, as usual:
"What's this muscle called again?" she asked pointing to the under side of her upper arm.
"Tricep?" I answered, having no idea if that was right.
"And this--this is bicep," she said, pointing to her bicep, then down to her tummy: "Abs," then the back of her leg: "Hamstring."
"Yep, I think that's right."
"HAMSTRING!" She said starting to laugh uncontrollably. "HAM STRING!"
She got me giggling.
"You know what I see when I say HAM STRING mommy? I see a ham, you know, with the white lines running through it, and he's got peach arms and long legs, and he's wearing light blue socks and dark blue sneakers, HA HA, and he's got his socks turned down like my school socks, and he's walking on a string, like this, like a typerope, HA HA, and the string is white, you know, with those black stripes that go round and round, and the ham is like WHOA! trying to walk on the string!"
"Yep, I see him too, baby"
"HA HAAAH AHAHAAA! HAM STRING. Get it? Ham on a string!"
Can't help but laugh.
feeling icky still or again--can't tell. Just downed a can of Campbell Select Italian Style Wedding Soup (couldn't find it in those cute microwave bowls). I want to tell you, right up there with my Sicilian grandmother's homemade sauce and meatballs is her chicken soup.
Growing up, we never knew it had a name. Maybe it wasn't a brand 40 years ago. We said it like this: "Grandma, can you make your chicken soup with the little meatballs in it?" My brother called it meatball soup. Oh. It was so good.
Anyway, I just had Campbell Select's version, and you know what? It's pretty darn good. Sprinkle some pecorino romano cheese on top, and you're half way home.
"I insisted that politics and technology were inseparable. Hey it's nice to be right."
--Dave Winer
Never has a space after a period begged for more proof.
Technology works best sans politics, actually. Because technology at its best is innovation. Politics kills innovation.
In fact I thought that the best thing about blogging way back when was the obvious lack of politics. The absence of a formal hierarchy. The natural, inherent sideways linkage. It was magnificent. The days when no one really knew how many hits they were getting, much less cared.
As for whether technology can be removed from politics? I don't much care. Politics may move faster, fly higher, or swerve better because of technology, but you can still smell the nasty fumes all the way to the winner's circle.
Add Hep A (there's an outbreak in GA) to the flu shot number two and call it a day.
she's shotted. I'm shot.
eeeeeee.
Jenna goes for flu shot number 2 today. Apparently if you're under 9 years of age and have never had a flu shot before, you gotta get two. I haven't told her yet. I get to pick her up at school and break the news on the way over to the doctor's. Poor kid has had 10 shots since mid-september. She didn't have a needle phobia before, but she's building up a good one now.
I have the magic cream ready. Parents if you don't know about it, ask your pediatrician to prescribe some before your child goes for their next vaccines. It's a numbing cream that you spread on and cover with a big bubble bandage, let it sit for 30 minutes, and the shot is perfectly ouchless. What an invention!
Magic Cream--ask for it by name. It's not the name at all, but that's what all the hospitals and pediatricians call it.
Unfortunately, Jenna needs only to see the magic cream now to set her shot panic into motion. Kind of defeats the purpose, but it really does work. Afterwards she says, "Was that it? Is it over? That didn't hurt at all!" Wish she'd realized that before kicking the nurses and pinching the flesh off my neck.
This is her first ever flu shot, but with the stories coming out of the southwest, and how sick she's been this year, we opted to vaccinate her vs. the flu. They are saying it offers cross protection even though this year's strain is not the strain they're vaccinating against.
Any adults out there getting the shot? I never have. Should we or shouldn't we? Only the virus knows for sure. Hurry up spring!
"In the song, the rapper declares he would not perform only for cash: "I don't rap for dead presidents," Eminem says. "I'd rather see the president dead. It's never been said, but I set precedents and the standards, and they can't stand it!"
I dunno. I don't see anything particularly threatening about these lyrics. Dead presidents refers to money. Eminem's saying that he'd rather see the president dead before he'd rap for money (dead presidents). That's kind of like saying I'd rather have tacks stapled in my toes before I'd work in BigPR again.
Then, of course, he's using the universal (cough) "I" to represent the power of music and art (and, say, blogging) -- the anti-institution stuff -- to set the real standards and precedents of our culture and nation. And that said insitutions, government mainly, can't stand that art is more potent than institution.
At least, that's what I'd argue if I were him and the secret service came a knockin'.
Man, whatever happened to poetic license.
P.S.-- Great PR move by Eminem.
So what do you do when you have a three-day weekend solo parenting a kid with a nasty GI bug, one who's still well enough to be bored silly but not well enough to go running about having fun?
If you're me, you carefully plan a 30-minute trip to Joann's, timing the run (no pun intended) intricately two minutes after bathroom dash number 23, and 28 minutes before bathroom dash number 24, then you speed through sidestreets to the store, at which time you fill your basked with one box making kit, one embroidery kit, enough colored boondoggle strands to wind around the block twice, and a pack of twist-up crayons, then you speed home just in time.
You're feeling like a professional parent who's ready to rock and roll with the craft projects.
Then you realize you completely forgot how to do a square knot, and that without such knowledge boondoggle making is virtually impossible. Oh well, you think, we'll put beads on the strands instead, and you do, and it looks way cool.
And you have great fun embroidering with your sick child as you put the last roll of toilet paper on the holder realizing there was one more thing you should have gotten while you were out.
Life is such a crazy fun thing. What would we do without it?
I can't tell my good emails from my spam anymore. HAPPY HOLIDAYS GET A BIGGER ____! Listen, if you email me, put blogger or something in the subject line because it seems that EVERYONE who's NO ONE wants to email me this holiday season offering:
a bigger johnson
lesbian love
prescriptions that Rush would love to get his felon hands on
some awesome paris footage
tips for satisfying my woman
a cure for my pain and stiffness
discount registrations
and a lot of just plain HI!s
So, let's make a blogger pact and find some relevant word to use in the subject of our emails that will help us all tell our asses from a hole in the wall.
I remember still this time of year up north. Even after nearly a decade in the south, I remember being garageless and a full-time worker and what that meant in December in the morning. HOW DO YOU STAND IT? I couldn't stand it. Not anymore. Up there, we'd set the thermostat at 68 in the winter and feel rather toasty, all things being relative. Down here, I have the thermostat set on 75. I'm freezing. Been sick, but still. It's so cold and grey. It looks like up there but I feel like down here. It's all messed up.
At this point, I think we could use a little snow.
The pain of trauma is finally being understood in this generation, and I believe that the current, new, and emerging understandings of the effects to of chldhood truama are among the most important phenomena of our generation--yes, even more important than blogging.
What is known, or at least what is more widely accepted, about dissociation, for instance, has changed dramatically over the last decade, and even half decade. The more accurately we name it, the more often we tell our stories, the more we can heal ourselves and our families--and our world. This is my greatest hope.
Onto DID, and dissociation. Your helpful description and link for today.
be well, ya'll.
As you know, I've long lamented never reaching the 7/10 google page rank. I've told you, it bothers me. Well, at least that it bothers me that it bothers me. So today, because I know it won't last long, because I'm erratic in my blogging at best, let us take time to dance a jig for my first ever 7/10 day.
Who's going to take the lead?
Here's a good review of Can Love Last, by Stephen Mitchell, who died this month in 2000 after the publication of his landmark book.
...romantic love doesn't die a natural, inevitable death: We kill it.
...more reviews here.
too tired to link to the amazon thingy with my code in it. maybe tomorrow.
watch for a post--as soon as we feel a little better over here. It's not the mysogeny we commonly associate with women hating. It's about the fear and outright distain of vulnerability. It's what too many women are wrapped up in. It's the first way I've seen mysogeny used in a way that holds the mirror up to women as well as men. And I'll get to it. Soon as I can.
I won't be able to resist reading Jayson Blair's book. Not sure how much is balogna and how much is prime rib, but the cover looks dandy enough to make me peek inside. When there is an inside, that is.
back to stenciling with Jenna.
carry on.
or under the weather here. jenna home with intestinal freeforall. mommy not far behind. tis the season. discuss amongst yourselves.
I just downloaded SnagIt from RB's list of tools over at Mandarin, and WOW is it FUN!
Easy, cheap, and lets you look forward to receiving spam so you can mess with it and transform it into post-modern digi-art!
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!
It was worth waiting for RB to get over the consumption to get the tip on SnagIt.
I got a spanking over at Missbehaving.net today. I didn't think I was being snarky, but I was off topic. But I had to be off topic. Because I wasn't able to comment on topic. Because comments got turned off for the post I wanted to comment on. And, maybe it's news to some other blog tool users, like me, but we with YACCS don't get to trackback or whatever it's called. And, well, I wouldn't think to do it if I could have in this instance.
It all started when I commented on a post by Halley on sexual globalization that was a double post from Halley's site. Halley had turned the comments off for her post over on Misbehaving and I was so disappointed when I got the the bottom of reading the post (again) and (again) couldn't leave a comment that I said something. It's still there as I write this, but you never know. Because it's not in the proper spot, under Halley's post. Because I couldn't leave it there. Because comments were turned off there.
Megnut gave me a talking to. And then deleted my next comment, which said basically what I say in the second paragraph here: that it was a double post and I found it frustrating to get to the end of it in a different (and I was assuming more community-based) forum only to be able to not comment again. Then I left a comment saying, "You actually deleted it--eeeks!" That didin't pass the Misbehaving comment monitors either.
Look, if I'm emailing Halley, it's not to talk about sexual globalization but sexual actualization. She knows this.
And, quite honestly, I didn't want to post about her sexual globalization post over here. I wanted to DISCUSS it in the community misbehaving is fostering over on their site. That's a dialogue.
There's a difference between these two modes of conversation in blogging, between posting-with-link and commenting.
One boosts your technorati rating (posting with link) and implies that that the reader-turned-poster was somehow moved enough to action by someone else's voice that they dedicate a post to talking about it with THEIR readers; the other is a sub-layer discussion among equally interested and present individuals (in comments). They both have their purpose, and I don't think it's genuine or smart to limit that sub-layer discussion in a community-blog setting like misbehaving.
Trolls out themselves. Ban them if you don't like the distraction they offer, but don't cheat the reading community out of the opportunity to discuss a post in a forum more aptly called comments.
That's my 22 cents. Paypal it to me.
Or... Rageboy Tutors The(m)asses
Man oh man. I had to endure two years of phone conversations with this guy to learn how he does what he does.
Now, he's given his secrets away free (kinda) over at Meg's Place.
Damn. I'm sending ya'll a bill.
Gary's thinking big again. Or, little.
His new Nap-Strat templated business napkins are coming soon to a midtown pub or restaurant near you. Fill-in-the-blank charts and graphs are sure to get your next business luncheon off to a quick start. And you know what that means.... Everyone's favorite:
RAPID ROI!
Just don't get so excited you wipe the marinara off with your next million-dollar idea.
Shelley always makes me think.
Probably innocent enough to create a category honoring women's writing. But Shelley sees more, beneath the surface. As usual, she makes me think twice. Reading Shelley is like experiencing whiplash. But in a good way.
I made a wish list, complete with the women, fire and dangerous things book that Stu recommended. Can't believe they have 69-cent ramen on amazon now. For that hard-to-buy-for brother-in-law.
It only seems fitting....
November was pancreatic cancer awareness month. December was my dad's birthday month. Somehow makes sense to post this link.
I'm getting in touch with this disease for the first time. I've always been afraid to read about it. It is a disease that is largely as lethal today as it was 35 years ago.
Things I didn't know:
The incidence of pancreatic cancer is highest between 60 and 80 years of age, and is only rarely seen in people under 40.
Cigarette smokers are two to three times more likely to develop pancreatic cancer.
The actual cause of this disease is not known, but is thought to be a result of a combination of inherited genetic changes and changes caused by environmental exposures.
A person's risk triples if their mother, father, or siblings have had the disease.
This I knew:
Unfortunately, medical treatment (chemotherapy and radiation) for pancreatic cancer does not result in many cures.
If you were thinking of donating to this blog over the holidays, send a few bucks to PanCan instead in honor of my dad: Alphonse Dimino. And lemme know if you do so I can say thanks.
more later....
Last night as I tried to fall asleep, I knew it was time to think things over.
My insomnia had to do with something I was pretty upset about.
I was pondering the finer points of grammar, wondering why there are certain rules folks just can't seem get away from.
One of these rules--never ending a sentence with a preposition--is something I just can't get my head around.
That's one rule I've never been behind.
You know?
looking for one--pls leave comment with recommendation. or just leave a comment. i'm lonely over here.
...Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall...
I've been thinking a lot about my father this past week. A craving of sorts to go back to the house, the stairs I climbed that day when the earth unfurled on its axis and then put itself back together inside out.
To see his bedroom. To see mine. To see the living room with the picture window where I played the piano with him in the morning before the school bus came.
So much of what I remembered I've forgotten. Need a knock to the side of my head with my hand, refocus my eyes, to know if what I thought I saw was real. Was any of it real?
...Humpty Dumpty had a great fall...
And to go to his grave. It's been years. I think eight, maybe only seven. Who visits now? I haven't seen the plot with 1998 filled in on my grandmother's stone. I remember when all of the tombstones except my father's read: - _____. Now they're all filled in. Room for one more still. I shudder. Wonder who will fill the extra spot. And when.
I remembered today that his birthday is coming up, and his mother's, my grandmother. Hers the 13th and his the 17th? Or is it the 16th?
I want to know if he died alone.
I don't want to pain anyone by asking the question.
Or me by hearing the answer.
...All the king's horses and all the king's men...
I know he went to the hospital a few days before dying. I do know no one told me. I thought he was in his bedroom the whole time. That must have been what they said. Shhhh. Daddy's resting. I knew he was sick. But I thought he was there. He wasn't even there.
If he could have, even through the pain of a fast-killing cancer, he wouldn't have missed these seconds, minutes, years, decades of his children's lives. That's the only thing I know without corroboration. That is a gift he gave me. You are worth it.
oh December.
How must his last birthday have been? To be dead by March, 90 days later, what was that last birthday like for him? Was I there? Did we sing?
Innocence lost.
Either way.
He wasn't here long enough for me to mature, call him Dad instead of Daddy. At five, you have a daddy.
...Couldn't put Humpty together again...
And then, sometimes, you don't.
More on giving. I decided that today's posts would focus on offering ways to help others. With that in mind, check out Network for Good. From helping the victims of the wildfires in California to creating your own wish list that lets others give to your favorite causes, this site is a great one-stop shop for lending a hand.
It's World AIDS Day. (Thanks to GMT Plus9 for the link.)
Participate in "Link and Think" here.
Bless the good work and wonderful folks at the Community Health Network in Rochester, New York. Co-founded by my cousin, Dr. Bill Valenti, in 1989, CHN provides more than 700 CHN patients with the best HIV/AIDS treatment in Greater Rochester. Dr. Bill is a wonderful, kind, and brilliant human being. High-five for the great work CHN does.
Link and think. It's the least we can do.
Disinfopedia. Because "powerful business interests dominate government."
Also...
PR Watch spin of the day.
Source: Raj KAJ
Have you seen Dru? She disappeared from Grand Forks, North Dakota on November 22nd. Her family needs help finding her.
Found the story at Say Anything.
That last post of mine gave me an idea. All the posts I write today are going to be focused on helping other folks. Watch. Have a cause, leave a comment. For the next 24 hours, allied is all about giving a boost to those in need.
Before you run through the malls and plaza or donate your credit card to Lands End Overstock, consider buying your holiday gifts from people like us--crafty folks trying to make a living doing what they do.
SusanStars has some pretty jewelry and purses.
Craftastic is retro-cool.
And I can think of a couple people I'd like to buy a tampon doll for.
Check out the artisans linked off of I Buy D.I.Y. and bless a nethead this holiday season.
Thanks to Kiki for pointing out the site.
