I put the photographer’s name and website all over the photo in the hopes he won’t be too pissed that I posted it here. To see it on the photographer’s website bigger and without the annoying text, along with many more brilliant photos, go here: http://www.3amfromkyoto.com/index.php?showimage=173. This image was voted as noteworthy in the PhotoFriday: Peaceful challenge. I just love it. It calms me.
A project can be anything, really. An unfinished book even stresses me out. If it’s a book I enjoy, I don’t want it to end so I’m get more distressed the closer to the end I get. I want more! more! more!
If it’s a book I do not find enjoyable, I make myself read the first few chapters to get the gist of what’s going on, then jump to the last few chapters to find out how it ends without having to plod through the boring middle. This is especially useful when I figure out early in a murder mystery who the murderer is but realize it’s going to take twenty more chapters for the main character to do so. So annoying.
Client tax returns and financial statements that line up on my bookshelf and taunt me;
My personal finances on Quicken;
Unloading the dishwasher;
Folding or hanging up freshly dried clothes;
Touchups on big projects I essentially finished but to which I still have a few more small things to do to make them truly done;
Anything I’ve put on a list and not yet crossed off.
I took a personality test once that asked, “Are you more comfortable before you make a decision or afterwards?” I am definitely an “after” person. I often find myself in decision-coma, that floaty place where…
…you have too many things to choose from so cannot make a decision due to system overload;
…you have few things to choose from but each choice is so vastly different you cannot decide which way to go;
…you have a need to fulfill (like extra seating in your living room, for example) and know exactly what you want but cannot find it so know you will have to settle for something less than your mind’s ideal, but just can’t.
Decision coma: tres sucky.
But once I’ve made a decision, I feel so much better. (Except for the poofy couch incident, but I rectified it within the 72 hours refund window so it doesn’t count.) The decision is make, this is the direction in which I am going, what’s next?
So which are you, more comfortable before you make a decision when all of your options are still open, or after you’ve made a decision and committed yourself?
I realize some of you are not pet people. I don’t understand you – AT ALL – but I realize you exist, though it must be a pale, lifeless existence without something furry or hooved or winged to brighten it.
I suppose I should include “scaly” and “cold blooded” in there for you amphibian and snake people, but I don’t understand you either. I like small furry things alive and running around, not as live food for my pet. Gross!
I started as a dog person because we had two dogs when I was a child. Then my sister Karen became old enough to start bringing things home, like guinea pigs, hamsters, gerbils, rats, mice, bunnies, chickens (yes! in town!), horses (she boarded that one out on a ranch, thank god), more dogs, and finally cats.
Did I mention my sister is highly allergic to everything? I don’t remember her being so when we were younger. Maybe it was prolonged exposure to pet overload that did it. She’s fine now, though. She recently had the shots over a period of time and – poof! – no more allergies. I’m so happy for her. Now she has a indoor dog! And a husband with allergies. But hey, now we know there are shots for that.
The cats stuck. They clean themselves, don’t demand to be walked, tend to entertain themselves, and sleep 18 hours a day. What’s not to love? Here are my most recent companions:
That’s Tiger in the underwear drawer and Turvy pretending to ignore him but alert for the slightest indication of a stealth attack. Which will come, eventually. It always does.
I will always have pets. Requirement for a male companion: must love cats. Though there is room for a dog or two in my life.
Clockwise from left: me, Gene, mom (Elizabeth), Kate (aka Kathryn), and Karen
There is, of course, much more to my family now what with marriages and children, but this is the only official family photo we have ever taken of the immediate family. As in “go to a professional photographer and get all gussied up” official photo.
It was 2008 and my brother Gene, sister-in-law Sibylle, nephew Daniel and his gal Kris came out from Indiana and Denver, respectively, for mom’s 80th birthday celebration.
Since then, Kate and Karen both got skinnier, I got fatter (fat and happy!), mom almost died (but she’s okay now!), and Gene…well, just look at him…Gene is the perfect specimen of manhood, is he not?
I am so proud of my family. I just love them all. Hugs and kisses to you, dear loved ones.
I’ve learned to trust my judgment because – damn! – if it isn’t pretty good.
In the past, I’ve sometimes gone ahead and done things that didn’t feel quite right (Example: what the hell am I doing in this wedding dress?) and it always, always turned out to be the wrong decision.
So now I listen to myself and have mastered the adroit use of “no.” It’s quite liberating, actually. Give it a try.
I haven’t been on many vacations. Not what I consider real vacations, where you have a specific destination to either explore or simply go to and lie around relaxing.
I’ve been to:
My favorite vacation would have to be the whirlwind trip two years ago through Canada, on to Seattle, and a week at my sister’s place in Athol, Idaho. The blog posts start here if you want to reminisce along with me. It turns out I didn’t blog much about it but do have lots of pictures.
View from the back balcony at the Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel.
I don’t actually have a makeup bag. I do, however, have a makeup drawer. It looks like this:
I tried wearing mascara the other day after years going without it. I even bought a brand new tube that claimed it would give me COLLOSAL volume, which is good because one of the reasons I stopped wearing mascara was because, no matter how much I put on, my eyelashes were barely noticeable.
It lied. All it did was make me feel my eyelashes all day, prevent me from rubbing my eyes, then I had to take it off at the end of the day.
Which reminded me the main reason I no longer wear mascara is because it’s a pain in the ass to get off even when it isn’t waterproof and you use a good makeup remover.
Anybody need a barely used tube of COLLOSAL VOLUME mascara?