Wednesday, September 30, 2009

This was going to be a blog about math ...

I had a quippy little title all picked out and everything
(Me + math = 0) ...
but then thinking of numbers scared me, so I nixed the idea.

I do so hate math.
I can multiply, but only if I have scratch paper.
And I will blatantly refuse to do any sort of division.

I still, at 32, count on my fingers if - God forbid - a calculator isn't in arm's length.

It's stupid. It's silly. And I don't apologize for it.
{well maybe part of me does, but I sure as hell can't tell you what percentage of me it is.}

Thursday, September 24, 2009

The epitome of a lady.

Even with my sometimes salty language, I fancy myself a lady.

I have a fabulous pair of pearls I break out on occasion, which were lovingly presented to me from Mommalah on my 30th birthday.

I think men should open doors for me - well, all ladies actually, but you get my drift.

Even if I offer, I think men should pay.
{Let it be known that I offer because I don't know how to handle having a man pay a lot because I've never actually dated any man who even resembled a gentleman.}
{Also let it be known that I do not have that '50s-housewife-take-care-of-me weak mentality, so don't go getting all Women's Lib on me, people. [Even though I daresay I really wouldn't mind having someone take care of me. I am in my 32nd year of being single, you know ...]}

The epitome of a Lady, to me, is Jackie Kennedy Onassis.
I mean just look at her:
jackie Pictures, Images and Photos
The pearls. The resolve. The high-head holding. The grace.
Even when she smoked she was absolutely stunning.
jackie kennedy Pictures, Images and Photos
And look at this picture of her on the day she married Jack.
Jackie Kennedy Pictures, Images and Photos
I should hope and pray to look that gorgeous on my wedding day, should there ever be such a day in my lifetime.

"The first time you marry for love,
the second for money,
and the third for companionship."

Jackie is fashion to me.
The shifts - long, long before Mrs. Obama. The pillbox hats. The pumps. The sunglasses. The Chanel. Oleg Cassini.
Even in casual clothes, the lady was Fashionable.
JACKIE KENNEDY Pictures, Images and Photos

Whenever I find myself in an uncomfortable situation, like if I'm at an event by myself, or at an event where I am Dressed to the Nines, I think of her. How she would stand, hold herself, mingle. What Would Jackie Do?

"I want minimum information
given with maximum politeness."

I remember when I first started learning about her, as I watched the footage and saw the photos in my many Jackie-related books about JFK's funeral, how she carried herself.
JACKIE KENNEDY Pictures, Images and Photos
How, even in the deepest depths of grief, Jackie was still beautiful.
Still graceful.
Still held a grieving country together, because if the widow could stand tall and regal, well, so could the president's people.

She was the closest thing the United States has ever had to royalty - or ever will.
Say what you will about the scoundrel her father was, about the families she married into, about how she might have been "phony" and "snooty" as the First Lady.

You can't say she wasn't a lady.
Maybe the last, honest-to-goodness American Lady.
Jackie Kennedy Pictures, Images and Photos
Jackie Kennedy Pictures, Images and Photos

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Neglect by Nikki.

I feel like I'm neglecting Ramblings on ... actually I know I am.
Things are crazy at work and in life, but I'll be back after this weekend, I promise you!

I hope I'm missed!

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Analyze this, dream doctor!

Last night, I had a disturbing dream.
It was one of those long, drawn-out dreams that, even if you wake up briefly - like say to hit snooze three times and crawl closed-eyed back into bed - you fall right back into.

It involved my father and brother Michael who were vampires trying to kill me.
Not make me a vampire, which of course would have been super cool, but actually kill me.
{Blogger's note: This might not be too far from reality when, as children, my brother tried to kill me on at least seven different occasions. One is well documented in a photo my mother took of us because she thought it was "cute" that Michael was holding a shut-off chainsaw to my belly and had a maniacal smile on his face. Said photo is displayed prominently on his entertainment center - and is the only photo of us that is in such a prominent place. He - and our parents - adamantly deny the Seven Times He Tried To Kill Me. I wonder if this could count as number eight??}

Through the whole dream, myself and a girl who resembled Taylor Swift, who was a cashier in a grocery store that helped me find its soap display - apparently my OCD even makes me dream about Ivory soap - and I gave chase to my Papa and Michael.

The weirdest thing isn't that the chase spanned all four seasons.
It was the fact that as we chased them, we were doing it in RC cars and tanks because we were miniature-sized people.

Toward the end of the dream, Taylor twin and I went to the house next door to the house my brother lived in when he lived in Pa. seven years ago (got that?) and Papa killed the Taylor girl because she went in first, and Michael came out to talk to me, teeth bared naturally.

He was like "This has to happen. You can't keep hunting us. You tried to kill our leader in the grocery store with your soap hunt."

I was crying and trying to get away from him, but he had me cornered in the garage attic we used to play in - one that was ironically bat infested.

The reason I was crying and pleading with Michael?
Not because he was going to kill me, but because he wouldn't make me a vampire, something I'd so enjoy, what with my already fang-like canine teeth, penchant for black and insomnia.
What a jerk!

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

I made a Happy List!

... even though I'm feeling kind of grumble-y since the fridge isn't fixed and I'm not feeling well and, while the temperature is my kind of temperature, there's no sun ... oh, this is supposed to be a Happy List entry.

On with it then! :)

10 things that make me happy:

1. Fall. Glorious, glorious fall!
2. Taking a morning walk and having the crisp air nip my nose.
3. My OCD morning rituals.
4. The smell of crab apples.
5. Russet-colored leaves blanketing the ground.
6. Knowing that we put out a kick-ass issue of the Weekender today.
7. Having a super busy next two weeks (and kind of secretly loving it).
8. Wearing my velour winter robe with animal-print cuffs.
9. Seeing the blindingly clean inside of my fridge, even though I’m still pissed that it still isn’t fixed.
10. Cardigans!

Hope you'll have lots to make you happy on this Hump Day!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Photoblog of Steamtown's RailFest 2009 ...

... on the trip from Scranton to Moscow and back, mixed in with some train haiku/tanka I've written over the past few years. It's been so long since I felt like posting any po-ems of mine. Hope you enjoy!

Mighty whistle blows
as the train goes roaring past
on its photo run. 9/6/09


{Johnny holding a magazine that has that very train on its cover.}

{Real engineers!}

{Another real engineer! In the actual engine!}

{Our chariot to Moscow.}

{We had a WWII reenactor riding with us, and I kept thinking about my beloved Pop-Pop, who was in the Battle of the Bulge.}

{En route, at the bend behind the Radission Lackawanna.}

We traversed the tracks
just as Phoebe Snow once did
in a simpler time. 9/6/09

{An old-time advertisment inside the train. Please pronounce it "ad-ver-tiss-ment, kindly.}

{At the Moscow Station.}


I hear the not-so-
far-away train. My heart, a
vagabond, hops it,
wistful that somewhere out there
is a lonely heart like mine. 5/20/08


On a rolling train
she smokes, as lives rush past her;
exhaled lovers
swirl around her. Deep in thought.
On a rolling train, she smokes. 4/11/09


Monday, September 7, 2009

This is my OCD blogging.

Mommalah and I headed up to Walmart in Tunkhannock today.
When I need to make a run to Wallyworld, I prefer to hit up this store.
It's a gorgeous little jaunt from the country house, and it's less, well ... less like the one in Wilkes-Barre.
{Let's just leave it at that.}

So we enjoyed cruising in the Bitch pod to the store, and I dug out my miles-long list.

Locating everything went swimmingly. Mommalah was even so kind as to pick up some new fall flowers (fake) to put in my basket on the sidewalk, which she, for some reason, entrusted upon me the task to put them in and make them "like so," incorporating with them the scarecrow figure she picked up for $1.
{She was not pleased, though, that I wanted the scarecrow in the blue faux denim overalls and not the orangey one that would offset said flowers better, but she'll get over it I s'pose.}

Toward the end of my list were the Parcels of the Most Importance: Ivory Liquid Hand Soap and Ivory bodywash.

I scoured each shelf in the respective aisle to no avail.
There was not hide nor hair of my beloved products I've been using for probably the last 20 years.
Panic set in as Mommalah suggested substitutions, even being so kind as to hold up some vanilla-scented monstrosity for my sniffing approval.

"No, no," I said, trying not to sound as panicked as I was, practically getting down on my hands and knees to check the bottom shelf "just in case."

"What about Dial?" my angelic Mommahlah said and I swear on my love of Gerard Butler, my hands felt like they were burning at the thought.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm down.
Then a terrible, horrific and utterly frightening thought entered my mind:
What if they discontinued Ivory Liquid Hand Soap?

My local grocer no longer carries it, and Walmart, my trusty, tried-and-true retailer doesn't have it, what the hell will I and my sensitive skin do if Ivory Liquid Hand Soap is the d-word?
{I cannot even bear to say it again.}

{Anecdote: When my Colgate herbal toothpaste got discontinued a few years back, I was just sick over it for like two weeks. I recently thought Aim was on its way out, so I enlisted Mommalah into picking me up some at her store, and she dropped off three boxes. All three included a trial size, so at least I'm set there for a good long while.}

So we left the store and heading into Tunkhannock for a bit and then drove to Grotto Pizza, and while we had a splendid time, in the back of my head I was seriously worried about the soap situation.

I asked if we could stop at her grocer on the way home because "I could swear they carry my soap."

So we did.
And they did.
They had like eight of them and my OCD whispered to buy all eight of them "just in case," but I bravely just bought two, and the Ivory bodywash I adore as well.

As I beeped goodbye to Mommalah as I left her house, I debated going back to her store to buy just two more soaps, but alas, I did not.

When I got home to put all my parcels away, sure as shit I already had two full Ivory Liquid Soaps in my closet, giving me a total of four.
Crisis averted!
{For now.}