GetSheila

The Seasons, They are a-changing

First inkling summer is coming to an end:

I wake up at 5:00 AM, cold, and have to pull up the comforter, dislodging an annoyed cat who views the comforter at the end of the bed as his own personal sleeping poof.

The Second Sign:

Instead of shorts and a tank top for house-lounging, I must don sweat pants and a T-shirt or suffer odd sensations throughout the day I finally identify as “cold.”

Definitive Proof:

Yard work in the middle of the day does not give me heat stroke because it is only in the low-80’s.

*   *   *   *   *

How is your weather? What are your season-changing signs?

 

 

Technorati Tags: summer's end,seasons

The Weekend Update

The new neighbors had no parties that I aware of this past weekend. Whew! Let us hope my luck holds.

I was up in the hills most of Saturday. It was a perfect weekend for it, too. Not too hot, not too windy or cold. We opted to go to the Mariposa Grove of giant Sequoias rather than all the way in to Yosemite Valley.

I was disappointed at first. “What! I don’t get to go see the Ahwahnee Hotel, where the rich people stay when they come to Yosemite?”

But it turned out to be quite enjoyable. Mariposa Grove was much closer to our meet-up location (a couple of miles vs. 45 minutes to the Valley) and the trees are just awe inspiring. See for yourself:

That is a big ass tree. We opted for the tram tour – at a whopping $25.50 per person! – but it was totally worth it because we were not all mobile enough for hiking. Plus we got to wear lovely headphones and a dangly radio-thing to hear the pre-recorded spiel.

I know it is blurry but it sooooo captures the tram ride. That is my compadre and coworker Micky, by the way, who gets me out of the house to Do Stuff, damn her.

As for missing the Ahwahnee, I got to see Tenaya Lodge instead. Fancy! Micky’s niece et al were staying there for a weekend CE conference.

I have a few more pictures of the day on my Flickr page, mostly trees. I do like the one of the downed Sequoia roots, the last pic in the slideshow.

And how was your weekend? Did you get out? Did you do something exercisey and/or fun?

 

Technorati Tags: neighbors,mariposa grove 2008,micky

Behold The Child of Doom

…and daddy.

I survived my adventure into The Great Outdoors just fine, but then barely escaped with my life from The Child of Doom, pictured above.

She appears innocent…sweet, even…but if you stare into her big blue eyes too long, YE SHALL PERISH.

More about the day’s adventures in another post. Until then, Child of Doom EXTREME CLOSEUP…

No! Don’t look into her eyes! Aw geez, you looked, didn’t you?

The Child of Doom strikes again.

 

Technorati Tags: child of doom,emma,don,mariposa grove 2008

Yosemitophobia-Fear of the Great Outdoors

I am going to Yosemite National Park today. I should be looking forward to the trip. Wouldn’t you? Fresh air. Mountains. Flora. Fauna. A lovely drive on a lovely day. People.

Gah! People! People I don’t know and might have to make eye contact with. People who may even speak to me, requiring me to speak back. Gah!

At the end of the day, I really do like people. I am energized by meeting them and conversing about things that would not have entered my mind that day much less come out of my mouth.

At the beginning of the day, however, it’s a whole other story. People have Free Will. Not unlike children, they can say or do anything, at any time, entirely without your say so. Unnerving.

But it will be good for me to get out. It might actually be f… fffff…ffffffffffffffff…

{deep breath}

…FUN.

But what next? The occasional movie? This could set a dangerous precedent. Pretty soon people will want me to hang out with them all the time, willy nilly, perhaps even without advance notice.

I should just stay home and do laundry today, as per usual. Except I promised my friend Micky I would go with her so she can meet up with her niece and ogle the new baby over lunch. Then it turned into an afternoon tour of the Valley floor on an open-air bus. By the time the day is over, I will have hiked to the top of El Capitan. Just watch.

(Damn. Where did I put the sunscreen?)

 

Technorati Tags: yosemite

FitBlogging 1

I have been trapped in this body for some time now. If you are reading this message, my efforts to spur the brain of my host organism into action have succeeded.

It thinks I am the collective unconscious, making suggestions on the road to self-actualization. I have cultivated this, though I made mistakes in the beginning. Berating the host has proven to be counterproductive to my cause. Phrases such as “Eat better!” “Exercise more!” “Put that cookie down you voracious cow!” produce only extended periods of lying on the sofa watching Bones reruns.

In sheer desperation, I tried “You are a work in progress.” It has turned out surprisingly motivational. The host measured various body parts and stepped on a weight measurement device for the first time in months, possibly years. Though despondent for several days, it has perked up and appears to be buying healthier foods. It even cooked once last week.

I do not know how I ended up here. I first thought I was a gay man trapped in a woman’s body, but then I realized no gay man would let his ass get this big.

I shall continue my efforts to free myself from this prison. I will contact you when I can. Keep the faith.

 

Technorati Tags: fatblogging,fitblogging

What is your soap opera name, and does it change your personality?

JCW sent me a link to a Soap Opera Name Generator, which dubbed him Sebastian Astor and me Viv Howard. The following is what ensued.

Dear Sebastian, I simply must know who does your dog. My little Beauregard is much too fluffy. Do tell. Love, Viv Howard P.S. Do you have a grey poupon? I seem to be out.

Darling Vivvy, Although retired, dearest Vidal comes over twice weekly to groom Muffy - when she's freshly done she looks just like a little Julie Christie. I tip Vidal $.50 and send him back to the retirement home. It's too sweet, really... Indeed, I just had a grey poupon this morning as I've been eating a great deal of fibre of late. Sadly, I flushed it. Do let me know in advance next time and I'll have Consuela fish it out for you. Kisses, Sebastian

Sebastian my sweet, So that is where Consuela ran off to, you naughty boy. I thought she left me for one of those young starlets who is always in the news. They do seem to go through staff like laxative through a supermodel. As for Vidal, goodness, I thought he died years ago! I just contacted the Fifteen More Minutes Retirement Home and Vidal says he can squeeze dear Beauregard in on Tuesdays. He piddled on the floor in his excitement! Beauregard is looking forward to it, too. Kiss kiss, Viv

Lovely Viv, Ran off to? My dear... insisting the poor woman don a Captain Kirk uniform and call you "Madame Star Bitch" whilst trying to scrub marble floors to a pristine shine would drive anybody away. Honestly, you left Consuela with little in the way of options. Speaking of supermodel diets, how is that new Stoli and smoked almond one going for you? Rumour has it that it causes gas... Sweet, senile Vidal. You must promise not to press him too hard. Although it is indeed true that if Beauregard doesn't look good, he doesn't look good, I'm afraid that Beau taking after his dear Mummy and all, there's only so much a ninety-five year man old can do. All love and affection, Sebastian

Dearest Sebastian, Consuela has not been completely truthful with you, my pet. It was a Captain Picard uniform and I required her to address me as “Sir.” Though when I first began the Stoli diet, it is possible I may have misjudged my meal portions and said or done things I do not recall. I did find an Orion slave girl costume in my closet around that time with no memory of how it got there. The marble floors information is accurate, I must admit. I do so like shiny things. Speaking of which, do keep an eye on that body glitter I know you like so much. Consuela is virtually an addict, dear. I promise to be quite gentle with dear, sweet Vidal. If he can resurrect your anorexic Muffy, he can do anything. I am so sorry to hear the studio passed you over yet again for that younger, hunkier actor of questionable sexual orientation. Someone so beautiful preferring women these days is quite a shock. Do keep your chin up, darling. I am sure there is a nice juicy role out there for you. Perhaps a misunderstood chauffeur or a tempestuous chef. Kiss kiss, Viv

Do continue the dialogue in the comments with your own soap opera name, darlings.

Technorati Tags: your soap opera name,JCW

I have new neighbors

I noticed something was up when tree trimmers arrived several weeks ago to prune and shape the trees at the rental house next door, a first since I moved in thirteen months ago. The neighbor’s trees were overgrown even then.

Neighborhood scuttlebutt is the house is owned by a slumlord who promises yard maintenance as part of the rental agreement but never provides it.

Some days later, I drove by and saw a truck parked on the lawn surrounded by household goods. Moving out? New neighbors moving in? Did I stop to inquire? No, because I am a bad neighbor.

Last Sunday, I was lying around in my pajamas at 2:00 PM eating bon-bons doing household chores when the doorbell rang. I have already established that I rarely answer the door but this time it was a small shirtless boy, brown as a berry and looking quite anxious.

His ball was in my back yard. I retrieved it and tossed it over the fence to boy #2, whose face floated above the top of my fence while he and boy #1 flung Spanish at each other like feces in a monkey cage.

(Oh gross. Perhaps I should not try to do similes.)

I had only ever seen teens over there before so my brilliantly deductive mind concluded I must have new neighbors. This was proven beyond a doubt Saturday night when they had their housewarming party.

Or Quinceanera.

Or perhaps a Rave.

All I know is there was much laughter and talking and clinking of glasses and music. Loud Mexican music.

I decided it was fine because, after all, it was Saturday night and I would not want my neighbors to harsh all over me if I was having a party on a Saturday night and it got a little loud. There was a point where they turned the music up EVEN LOUDER but I decided to give them until midnight before letting myself get annoyed. They shortly turned it back down to merely LOUD and, magically, at 11:58 PM, all went quiet.

I thought about baking them something to welcome them to the neighborhood but then they had a barbeque Sunday afternoon, consisting of more loud Mexican music combined with video game noises (from the game, not the people playing it) wafting from the open back door. Quite an annoying combination on what would otherwise be a lovely day for lounging in my own backyard.

My neighbor across the street then decided to blast his music, either because he was working in his garage or to prove a point. I am not sure which. Led Zeppelin does not go well with Tejano.

I hope this weekend is not a taste of what is to come. I heard mention of a cake so maybe it was someone's birthday next door.

Please, god, let it have been someone's birthday.

 

Technorati Tags: new neighbors,loud neighbors,neighborhood ettiquette

Eating healthy gives you gas

It is sad but true: fiber = farting.

Gas is caused by 1) swallowing air, and 2) colonies of bacteria in our lower intestine breaking down food.

It is #2 (heh – I said #2 - heheh) that causes smelly gas. If the food you eat is not digested and absorbed in the upper intestine, it moves on to the lower intestine, where it  undergoes fermentation and releases all sorts of healthy goodness.

And gas.

Foods high in fiber are the ones that move on to the lower intestine. Some of my favorite high fiber foods:

• Soybeans, popped directly out of the pod into my mouth
• Broccoli, cooked to wilted perfection. None of that al dente crap for me
• Onions
• Potatoes, in any shape or form
• Whole grain bread
• Nuts (most any kind) and sunflower seeds
• Zucchini
• Raspberries
• And a new super high fiber grain my sister turned me onto: Quinoa. Not yet a true favorite, but I am experimenting.

Did you know adults are supposed to consume 20-35 grams of fiber per day? PER DAY. Not sure if you are getting enough? Check out this quick chart of popular foods and their fiber content.

A few books I came across in my research I feel compelled to share with you:

• The Gas We Pass: The Story of Farts
• Who Cut The Cheese: A Cultural History of the Fart
• The Zen of Farting
• Where's The Poop?
• What's Your Poo Telling You? (Don’t forget the accompanying Poo Log, where you can keep track of your poop, and the Poo Calendar, with a poop for every day of the year.)
• Who Shat That?: A Pocket Guide to Poop Identity
• The Scoop on Poop, filled with useful data about poop, like how termites use their droppings to cement their houses. Because everyone should know that. Duh.

And by research, I mean sitting on the potty with my laptop marveling at the speed at which one can go from farts to poop on both the Internet and the potty simultaneously. (You’re welcome.)

Hey, remember when people used to read books on the potty? I think I shall order a few of the above for guest bathroom reading material.

It is the hostessy thing to do.

 

Technorati Tags: fiber make your fart,farting,poop

Oh me of little faith

What if there really is a god? I do not personally believe that but…what if? Okay then, which one? I mean, there are an awful lot to choose from, aren’t there? Let us start with the Christian god, since that is the one I am most familiar with (though that is not saying much.)

But first, what do I do with my belief that religion was created to control the masses, to create some sort of order out of chaos and give people a reason to be good? Do I have to suspend this belief to explore the possibility there may actually be a god? Probably. Okay, up on the shelf it goes.

God. Jesus Christ. I cannot say the latter without subconsciously tacking “Superstar” on the end. And why do I feel like I am swearing when I say those words? Thou shall not take the Lord’s name in vain. Is that a commandment and, if so, why? Is this really so horrendous an act it needed its own commandment?

But I digress.

If there really is a god, it does not necessarily follow that he/she/it is good, does it? Maybe he is capricious, like Q or a vatch. It also does not necessarily follow that when we die we go to a better place. Maybe we have already paid our dues and this is the better place. Or if we do go on after this, what if our True Form is a middle-aged, heavy set, black woman? Won’t that be a surprise to all those good ole boys out there?

It is a nice fantasy to believe there is a god, or at least that we go to a better place after we die, where we meet up with our loved ones again. Or is it? What if your greatest desire is to see your beloved who was taken from you in a tragic accident? But what if you eventually moved past the tragedy and found a deep and meaningful love again? Who do you get to be with in heaven? Is bigamy allowed? And if so, do we really want that? I cannot imagine that working very well unless our minds are so different we no longer get our feelings hurt or experience things like insecurity, jealousy, and anger.

If that is the case, it does not sound like our entire soul moves on. Or maybe our soul is separate and distinct from our full, feeling, corporeal form. If so, what are we, really?

Have you ever sat down and imagined your own private heaven? Who would be in it? What would your surroundings look like? Feel like? Would it ever rain? I have tried to image my personal slice of heaven and, frankly, I was bored by the end of my first month there.

Okay six months. A year, tops.

This tells me humans cannot possibly imagine what it would really be like. We bore and frustrate too easily. And besides, we are starting from a rather limited point of reference. Heaven would have to be completely unexpected and so wonderful that it captures our imagination and holds it for…well, forever.

 

Technorati Tags: lung cancer,is there a god?,heaven

Tool of the Gods

Introducing The Cardboard Wizard 2000!

That is what it should be called anyway. Proof:

Does this pile seem small? Perhaps, but only because it represents the mere leftovers that would not fit in my 96-gallon recycling bin.

I have been putting off cutting up cardboard recycling for a while now - months, actually – because, well, we are required to cut cardboard into 1’ x 1’ squares.

Ha! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I appear to be the only person in the world who follows this rule, judging from all the recycling can lids I see propped open on pickup day by giant cardboard boxes not even broken down, much less cut up. I love the smell of environmentally friendly superiority in the morning.

My old method for cutting up cardboard involved a utility knife and lots of bending, followed by pain pills and whining about my back for several days.

Then I saw this 30-second commercial for the Skil Power Cutter:

I balked at the price at first – over $50 just to cut up cardboard? – but then my sister bought one, I used it on her garage full of cardboard, and could not figure out how to conceal it on my person and make off with it. I had to buy one of my own.

Tip: it can bog down on thick cardboard but all you have to do is pull up on it a bit as well as angle it up in the back and it moves right along. It is by no means self-propelled, though. You do have to exert some force on thick pieces.

Even if I never use it on anything other than cardboard, it is money well spent. I love my new tool! It is so compact, I can take to my sister’s and get her cardboard done in HALF the time. Whee!

I wonder how long the blade will last before I have to replace it…

 

Technorati Tags: skil power cutter,cutting cardboard,cardboard recycling,fun power tools