Unless you are in Arizona in my sister's mansion with 10 other people. Somehow, their house has managed to absorb 8 extra people and their junk with no one sleeping on the floor. We've been having a blast. Some people went to hike the Grand Canyon for a few days, but were forced to return after one day of freezing cold hiking 6 miles and a blizzard. My new Honda Civic was put to the test on the back roads covered in ice. Now that all of us are here (we came 2 x 2 on different days), we're doing fun things. We've been playing Catan, Five Crowns, Chicken Foot Dominoes, and 6-Up. Yesterday we visited Montezuma's Castle - cliff dwellings of Indians just an hour from here.
As usual with the Gottschalk clan, there have been some unforgettable quotes, mostly from Maddie. She dubbed my mom, her grandma "Lord of the Mystery", with a rather dramatically regal gesture. She is like a parrot, repeating everything she hears, but actually comprehending it, too. My favorite thing about her (well, one of them) is the fact that she properly uses the word "though". I asked her to finish eating her meat and she said, "But I don't know how to start eating it, though." I won't say she doesn't add extra words to her sentences, but still, she has correctly used the word "though" at least a dozen times since we've been there.
31 March 2005
26 March 2005
What Makes a Hero?
It's Saturday, and most people relax on Saturdays. But because I stayed up late last night finishing Mom's birthday present from Evan and I, I overslept. Oversleeping does not make me a hero because I almost missed my massage therapy appointment. An interesting development there was that a student was "observing," if by "observing" you mean poking me in the butt, the jaw and shoulder when Rhonda told her to. Interesting. That does not make her a hero, either.
This afternoon I had a friend come visit - Paul Hizo. He joined the Marines right out of high school, had amazing stories from boot camp and being stationed in Iraq. He was injured in Iraq and came home last year, has gone through extensive rehab and has an indomitable spirit. He was nearly the only Christian on his base in California - a position I can't even imagine, as I attend a Christian university. His faith has brought him through intense circumstances - things which would have turned me into a bitter woman had I experienced them, but he is happier and more pleasant than hundreds of people that I have encountered in my life. He specifically said to me that he does not regret joining the Marines, even though he will suffer from his injuries for the rest of his life. He'd do it all over again. That, my friends, is what makes a true hero.
He wants to go to college to become a Math teacher. I would love my kids to be in his class.
My last hero for the day is none other than Madeline Grace Forman. When her mother and I were talking about Grandma's birthday cake, Maddie piped up from the backseat: "I want my own birt-day cake, Mommy." Emily informed her that that was not an option.
Mom and I are leaving for AZ round about 6:30 in the morning tomorrow, hitching a ride to the airport with our dentist. Being in Arizona by noon will be worth it.
This afternoon I had a friend come visit - Paul Hizo. He joined the Marines right out of high school, had amazing stories from boot camp and being stationed in Iraq. He was injured in Iraq and came home last year, has gone through extensive rehab and has an indomitable spirit. He was nearly the only Christian on his base in California - a position I can't even imagine, as I attend a Christian university. His faith has brought him through intense circumstances - things which would have turned me into a bitter woman had I experienced them, but he is happier and more pleasant than hundreds of people that I have encountered in my life. He specifically said to me that he does not regret joining the Marines, even though he will suffer from his injuries for the rest of his life. He'd do it all over again. That, my friends, is what makes a true hero.
He wants to go to college to become a Math teacher. I would love my kids to be in his class.
My last hero for the day is none other than Madeline Grace Forman. When her mother and I were talking about Grandma's birthday cake, Maddie piped up from the backseat: "I want my own birt-day cake, Mommy." Emily informed her that that was not an option.
Mom and I are leaving for AZ round about 6:30 in the morning tomorrow, hitching a ride to the airport with our dentist. Being in Arizona by noon will be worth it.
His Finest Hour
Evan took a half day yesterday so he could drive down to Cincinnati (the Kentucky side) and ask his girlfriend to marry him. He called us around 9:30 last night to let us know that she accepted. How exciting! Evan and Emily Kubala Gottschalk.
Precious!
Precious!
25 March 2005
Dinner and Church with the Gottschalks
Thanks to Mike for hanging out with my family for the first time.
It was a rarity for me, really, to have someone around us in our element.
I hope we didn't scare you off.
We all enjoyed ourselves very much, I think.
So thanks, Mike, for braving the Gottschalk Insanity!
It was a rarity for me, really, to have someone around us in our element.
I hope we didn't scare you off.
We all enjoyed ourselves very much, I think.
So thanks, Mike, for braving the Gottschalk Insanity!
Care-Bear at her Greatest
My friends began referring to my mom as Care-Bear in since high school. Somehow, it transferred over to my college friends, though I don't have any of the same friends now that I did back then. And even though few people know her personally, she is endearing to them because of the stories. And because some of her one-liners are absolutely priceless. Today's example:
"I don't think your soul is dead. It's just that your creativity is shriveled."
I have some hope then, right?
"I don't think your soul is dead. It's just that your creativity is shriveled."
I have some hope then, right?
24 March 2005
Growing up
I'm glad that as I get older I realize my parents are hilarious. They didn't seem hilarious when I was getting into trouble for being a tattle tale or lying to them and getting caught (which, of course, I only did a few times). Thanks to my brother for wearing them down during the year and a half that he lived with them post-college, they are much more pleasant to be around and, quite often, very entertaining.
Just a few excerpts from tonight's card-playing extravaganza:
"Maybe you don't, but I think most people have a problem with crucifying their flesh."
~ Mom to Evan, talking about Maunday Thursday and why thinking of the death of Christ is actually sad, because it means death of self. Evan, forever the optimist, doesn't agree.
"I think we can take care of that with snap-shots."
~ Mom to Evan as he tried to explain the importance of commemorating this Spring Break trip to Arizona with a professional family photograph.
From a few nights ago, when my dad called me, offering to pay the cost of me driving to Mishawaka every day to work this summer:
"Dad, do you know how expensive gas is?"
"Do you know how much money I make?...I don't think you do."
End of Conversation.
I am blessed to have such a great family. We're all pretty funny, let's face it.
Gottschalks Rule!
Just a few excerpts from tonight's card-playing extravaganza:
"Maybe you don't, but I think most people have a problem with crucifying their flesh."
~ Mom to Evan, talking about Maunday Thursday and why thinking of the death of Christ is actually sad, because it means death of self. Evan, forever the optimist, doesn't agree.
"I think we can take care of that with snap-shots."
~ Mom to Evan as he tried to explain the importance of commemorating this Spring Break trip to Arizona with a professional family photograph.
From a few nights ago, when my dad called me, offering to pay the cost of me driving to Mishawaka every day to work this summer:
"Dad, do you know how expensive gas is?"
"Do you know how much money I make?...I don't think you do."
End of Conversation.
I am blessed to have such a great family. We're all pretty funny, let's face it.
Gottschalks Rule!
22 March 2005
Entertainment
As I was talking to Emily on the phone this afternoon, a paper airplane flew in through my bedroom door. On it were these words: "It's Spring...Let's do something fun tonight. Let's go out. Screw tests. Screw reading. I say movie. I say dinner. (I say cheap, too)."
We left a few minutes later - drove to Muncie, rented Stigmata, and stopped by Subway (with very friendly employees, I might add) before returning to a night of many interrupting phone calls but nevertheless a fabulous movie and fine dining.
It made up for the day's previous events.
We left a few minutes later - drove to Muncie, rented Stigmata, and stopped by Subway (with very friendly employees, I might add) before returning to a night of many interrupting phone calls but nevertheless a fabulous movie and fine dining.
It made up for the day's previous events.
Delinquint
I've never considered myself delinquint, nor have I ever been considered delinquint by anyone who knows me. I have had my fair share of delinquint friends and have sworn off becoming like them. I have participated in a handful of delinquint situations, but never to the extent that someone would label me Delinquint.
Until today.
I proceded through my day unsuspectingly. I ran. I went to class, made a chiropractic appointment for Spring Break on my way to lunch, and went to work before making it back to the apartment. I came home to a message from my sister Emily who lives in Arizona: "Call me as soon as you can." There was a quiet urgency in her voice.
I called, we chatted, and then I asked what was so urgent. And the she hit me with a 20 pound bowling ball in the face.
I visit the chiropractor in Arizona about twice a year if I'm lucky. Last time I was there was in August when Mom and I drove out for a quick visit and to take some of Emily's stuff out to her. There had never been a problem with the chiro or the fact that I only came in every 6 months or so. He is a friend of my sister's and rigged up a "special plan" for payments - for college kids, he said. Maybe that special plan was to ruin college kids' credit reports.
Apparently, at my last appointment in August, I didn't pay (due to this "special plan" remember that), and because I didn't pay at the time of the visit, the cost rose from $38.40 to $64.00.
My sister moved across town last year and I didn't update my contact information with the clinic, so when they sent out the bill for that August 19th visit, it went out to the wrong address. Consequently, all the bills were returned to the clinic. The billing department claimed (to me and to my sister) that all of the information they had was incorrect - phone numbers, address, emergency numbers and such. They had no option but to turn over the unpaid bill to a collection agency. My bill went to J & R Brothers; my agent was Vincent.
Somehow, however, today after I scheduled the appointment for next week, the people at the clinic found my contact information, called my sister and said they had to cancel my appointment because I had an outstanding claim with a collection agency. She was confused and found herself being shuffled from the appointment schedulers at the clinic to billing to Vincent at J&R Bros. and back to billing and finally to scheduling. She couldn't get any information out of these people because she wasn't me, the delinquint. She is an angel, however, because she paid my bill over the phone - with a check over the phone? - so I could keep my appointment for next week.
I talked to both the collections agency (Vincent) and Kari and Rosa in billing - they all gave me different dates of the unpaid visit and things seemed fishy to me. But what do I do?
I'm 22, I live in Indiana, and I have a collections agent after me in Arizona. "I'm a good kid, I promise. I've never been in trouble. I pay all my bills. I hate spending money, but I don't neglect payments." Somehow I doubt these words would have any effect on Vincent and his posse as they drag me into a cold dark alley to beat the money out of me. "It's only 64 dollars!" I would gasp before the final blow that would leave me unconscious as I crumple behind a dumpster.
Obviously, that scenario will never happen, but my credit report is forever tainted because of this stupid, confusing, and idiotic thing. I'd have paid it if I knew I had to. And how exactly did they get my sister's phone number today and not 3 months ago when they were getting returned mail? I'd like to ask Kari that.
Until today.
I proceded through my day unsuspectingly. I ran. I went to class, made a chiropractic appointment for Spring Break on my way to lunch, and went to work before making it back to the apartment. I came home to a message from my sister Emily who lives in Arizona: "Call me as soon as you can." There was a quiet urgency in her voice.
I called, we chatted, and then I asked what was so urgent. And the she hit me with a 20 pound bowling ball in the face.
I visit the chiropractor in Arizona about twice a year if I'm lucky. Last time I was there was in August when Mom and I drove out for a quick visit and to take some of Emily's stuff out to her. There had never been a problem with the chiro or the fact that I only came in every 6 months or so. He is a friend of my sister's and rigged up a "special plan" for payments - for college kids, he said. Maybe that special plan was to ruin college kids' credit reports.
Apparently, at my last appointment in August, I didn't pay (due to this "special plan" remember that), and because I didn't pay at the time of the visit, the cost rose from $38.40 to $64.00.
My sister moved across town last year and I didn't update my contact information with the clinic, so when they sent out the bill for that August 19th visit, it went out to the wrong address. Consequently, all the bills were returned to the clinic. The billing department claimed (to me and to my sister) that all of the information they had was incorrect - phone numbers, address, emergency numbers and such. They had no option but to turn over the unpaid bill to a collection agency. My bill went to J & R Brothers; my agent was Vincent.
Somehow, however, today after I scheduled the appointment for next week, the people at the clinic found my contact information, called my sister and said they had to cancel my appointment because I had an outstanding claim with a collection agency. She was confused and found herself being shuffled from the appointment schedulers at the clinic to billing to Vincent at J&R Bros. and back to billing and finally to scheduling. She couldn't get any information out of these people because she wasn't me, the delinquint. She is an angel, however, because she paid my bill over the phone - with a check over the phone? - so I could keep my appointment for next week.
I talked to both the collections agency (Vincent) and Kari and Rosa in billing - they all gave me different dates of the unpaid visit and things seemed fishy to me. But what do I do?
I'm 22, I live in Indiana, and I have a collections agent after me in Arizona. "I'm a good kid, I promise. I've never been in trouble. I pay all my bills. I hate spending money, but I don't neglect payments." Somehow I doubt these words would have any effect on Vincent and his posse as they drag me into a cold dark alley to beat the money out of me. "It's only 64 dollars!" I would gasp before the final blow that would leave me unconscious as I crumple behind a dumpster.
Obviously, that scenario will never happen, but my credit report is forever tainted because of this stupid, confusing, and idiotic thing. I'd have paid it if I knew I had to. And how exactly did they get my sister's phone number today and not 3 months ago when they were getting returned mail? I'd like to ask Kari that.
18 March 2005
Patron of the Arts
Tonight began the three week art exhibits of two of my favorite people on campus: Elizabeth Marx and Joy Freeman (my roommate). Sporting excellent fruit and other assorted finger foods, both of their receptions were swarming with visitors, many friends of theirs and mine and several people I did not know. Both girls had family helping everything go smoothly with the food and set up and things.
Joy's show is entitled Details and her amazing pieces, down to the most minute details, are incredible. The colors were gorgeous, each piece thought-provoking. And though I've seen most of her pieces before, because she kept them in our room prior to her building her own frames for 9 of them, seeing them put together into themed groups gave them all new meaning. Joy was beaming, too, and wearing a new outfit, which made the night an even greater success.
Elizabeth's show is called Beauty in the Broken and consists of various photographs she's taken (she has the most amazing eye for photography) with wax over them, giving shading and depth. Knowing I could never come up with such an idea, let alone create over 20 pieces with the mastery she showed, I am in awe of her talent. Her heart was evident in every piece. One incredible aspect of Elizabeth's art is that she included nude photos. But not just nude photos of anybody, definitely of Elaine. And they were beautiful. In her pamphlet, Elizabeth says "to use the human figure in any other way than the nude [cheapens] the harsh reality and deep beauty of those broken moments in our lives." She intentionally made these photos "in no way erotic or explicit" and so there was no way anybody should have been offended. She simply displayed specific aspects of the human form which are inherently beautiful in a way to accentuate that beauty. Her gift for photography is mind-blowing, and I'm not simply referencing this show alone. I've seen other pictures from her semester in Italy and even ones she's taken around campus; they are the essence of art.
Congratulations to my friends who are successful artists at 22 years of age. You have reached the culmination of your senior year and proved yourselves worthy of the title Artist.
Joy's show is entitled Details and her amazing pieces, down to the most minute details, are incredible. The colors were gorgeous, each piece thought-provoking. And though I've seen most of her pieces before, because she kept them in our room prior to her building her own frames for 9 of them, seeing them put together into themed groups gave them all new meaning. Joy was beaming, too, and wearing a new outfit, which made the night an even greater success.
Elizabeth's show is called Beauty in the Broken and consists of various photographs she's taken (she has the most amazing eye for photography) with wax over them, giving shading and depth. Knowing I could never come up with such an idea, let alone create over 20 pieces with the mastery she showed, I am in awe of her talent. Her heart was evident in every piece. One incredible aspect of Elizabeth's art is that she included nude photos. But not just nude photos of anybody, definitely of Elaine. And they were beautiful. In her pamphlet, Elizabeth says "to use the human figure in any other way than the nude [cheapens] the harsh reality and deep beauty of those broken moments in our lives." She intentionally made these photos "in no way erotic or explicit" and so there was no way anybody should have been offended. She simply displayed specific aspects of the human form which are inherently beautiful in a way to accentuate that beauty. Her gift for photography is mind-blowing, and I'm not simply referencing this show alone. I've seen other pictures from her semester in Italy and even ones she's taken around campus; they are the essence of art.
Congratulations to my friends who are successful artists at 22 years of age. You have reached the culmination of your senior year and proved yourselves worthy of the title Artist.
17 March 2005
Rock On
My newest obsession: Manau is a French rap group. They have a CD Panique Celtique which is French words, Celtic music, and rapping. We discovered them in Boston when Liz's friend Sue had it playing in the background as we all sat around talking in her living room.
Now I'm not the biggest fan of rap, because normally it's not music. However, there have been a few rappers who have proved themselves to be good artists in terms of word choice, placement, and rhythm. I'll give them credit for that. But, this music, Manau, is amazing. Maybe because I can't understand the words and therefore I am unable to realize how dumb the lyrics are. I love this. It gets in my head and won't leave. My foot was tapping the bassline of my favorite song (#2) during Freelance today, since we didn't discuss anything of value for my writing career. I wish I knew what the words said, or at least how to pronounce them, so I could sing along.
Now I'm not the biggest fan of rap, because normally it's not music. However, there have been a few rappers who have proved themselves to be good artists in terms of word choice, placement, and rhythm. I'll give them credit for that. But, this music, Manau, is amazing. Maybe because I can't understand the words and therefore I am unable to realize how dumb the lyrics are. I love this. It gets in my head and won't leave. My foot was tapping the bassline of my favorite song (#2) during Freelance today, since we didn't discuss anything of value for my writing career. I wish I knew what the words said, or at least how to pronounce them, so I could sing along.
15 March 2005
Another Life
In another life, I would have married Adam Sandler. I just know it. In this other life, I would be the equivalent of the character played by Christina Ricci in Now & Then. She was my ideal from the time after that movie came out. She was cool, mysterious, and haunted by her past. But she was adventurous and fun, too. She seemed to have everything that an introverted, overgrown child, like myself, lacked. She was interesting.
Adam Sandler would fall in love with someone interesting. He'd want to marry that girl because she was beautiful and crazy. That's why I wanted to be her.
Adam Sandler is one of the most endearing actors I've ever seen, and not just because he's cute. Nope. He has kind eyes - have you ever looked at them? All you ever hear from his fellow actors is that he's kind and sweet. He loves animals; there are always animals in his movies, usually strange ones, too. He likes to sing crazy made up songs. He's got an egg-shaped head and he's not embarrassed about it; he actually makes fun of it himself in his movies. He's not beautiful or gorgeous and that is what is so appealing about him. He's nearly normal-looking. It's his personality that's the clincher. I need somebody who's a bit crazy, who loves to have fun and has a hilarious sense of humor. If only there were two Adam Sandlers and one lived in Arizona and wasn't married yet.
I thought I'd found someone very much like him once. I was sure of it. Only, he turned out to be an ass. Typically.
I guess I'll have to placate myself by watching some of his sweetest movies 50 First Dates, Big Daddy and Mr. Deeds.
Adam Sandler would fall in love with someone interesting. He'd want to marry that girl because she was beautiful and crazy. That's why I wanted to be her.
Adam Sandler is one of the most endearing actors I've ever seen, and not just because he's cute. Nope. He has kind eyes - have you ever looked at them? All you ever hear from his fellow actors is that he's kind and sweet. He loves animals; there are always animals in his movies, usually strange ones, too. He likes to sing crazy made up songs. He's got an egg-shaped head and he's not embarrassed about it; he actually makes fun of it himself in his movies. He's not beautiful or gorgeous and that is what is so appealing about him. He's nearly normal-looking. It's his personality that's the clincher. I need somebody who's a bit crazy, who loves to have fun and has a hilarious sense of humor. If only there were two Adam Sandlers and one lived in Arizona and wasn't married yet.
I thought I'd found someone very much like him once. I was sure of it. Only, he turned out to be an ass. Typically.
I guess I'll have to placate myself by watching some of his sweetest movies 50 First Dates, Big Daddy and Mr. Deeds.
11 March 2005
Inevitable
I feel as if I'm about ready to cut myself just to watch it bleed. Don't get too excited about that - I'm speaking figuratively. How do you approach a supposed friend and give her the only news she could ever NOT want to hear? I'm about to, but at least I don't have to go at it alone. With two people, it should be easier to articulate the problems and the concerns, and hopefully it will appear more legit.
How do you ever know if you're making the right decision? I felt peace about this a few hours ago, why am I waffling now?
How do you ever know if you're making the right decision? I felt peace about this a few hours ago, why am I waffling now?
09 March 2005
Today's Highlights
It wasn't an exceptionally wonderful day, but there were the few exceptionally wonderful moments. First of all, I skipped my Lit class at 1 pm, meaning I had an extra hour to relax and work on my less than perfect paper due Friday. While this may seem minor, skipping class for me is a big step towards my perfectionist and over-achiever recovery. Secondly, it was a gorgeous, sunny day, though frigid, and the sky was dotted with cartoonish clouds. It was a perfect spring-looking day despite the cold, and that made it bearable. Thirdly, as Elaine and I were walking home from work (one of my favorite times of the day - walking with her) we passed a house on the corner where an adorable teenage Golden Retriever lives. He was tethered in the yard, chewing on a tennis ball, absolutely glowing in the sunlight. Elaine insisted we go pet him, and I tried to refuse, but I couldn't, he looked so much like my childhood dog, Dusty. He was elated to see us, turning around in tight little circles, getting tangled in the chains of his tether and excitedly chewing on that ball. He was so soft, "like Aslan," Elaine said, and I couldn't deny it. He was so well-taken care of and such a happy little guy. I wish I had a picture of him to post here - so everyone could see how precious this dog is. You can see him if you look to the right at the corner of Second and Wright, across from the Rohr house (that could be spelled wrong, and I apologize for that). He'll be out more, I'm sure, as Spring approaches, which makes me even more eager for the warmer weather.
Spring break in 15 days. I see Maddie in 18 days. That is so soon.
Spring break in 15 days. I see Maddie in 18 days. That is so soon.
07 March 2005
Almost Here
2 things:
- Spring - you can feel it and smell it in the air. What is better than Spring following winter? Absolutely nothing.
- Manau CD - my new favorite French Celtic Rap. Should be here soon, I hope. Come listen with me sometime.
- Spring - you can feel it and smell it in the air. What is better than Spring following winter? Absolutely nothing.
- Manau CD - my new favorite French Celtic Rap. Should be here soon, I hope. Come listen with me sometime.
05 March 2005
Relaxing at Home
I don't come home very often, but when I do, I relish in the atmosphere - both of the natural beauty of the woods and lake surrounding my house and also in the home-ness that pervades every inch of this old house. Included in my favorite aspects of home are, of course, my 3 cats: Jeffery, Jackson, and Blackie. They are beautiful cats. Jeffery turns 19 on Monday, which just happens to be my Dad's 54th birthday. Very convenient for remembering birthdays in March.
Jeff is your typical grey-striped tabby cat, but he is very unique in 2 aspects. 1) He is missing one fang (they have 2), he lost it in a battle either against another cat (which he was eager to fight in his young days) or against some small critter that he was eating (probably lost it crunching on that critter's bones). 2) He has had an amazing life. Given to us by our old piano teacher, he broke his leg jumping off of the hood of my dad's station wagon in his first year and had to wear a splint for a month or so. Everytime we came home from school we'd hear the clicking of the metal part of the splint on the concrete of our driveway. The second amazing adventure Jeff had was when my parents decided to get rid of him, along with our other cat at the time, Missy (who kept having babies - she had 4 litters while with us). So I found a friend at school who lived on a farm to take them in. I'd ask her how they were getting along and Angie would tell me they were just fine, enjoying farm life. Then, a month or so after they went to her farm, my aunt Connie had 2 strange cats show up at her farm. One of them fit the description of Jeffery, the other Missy. The odd thing was that Connie's farm was over 7 miles away from Angie's, so the probability of it being our cats was slim to none. We went over to Connie's and saw one of them, and sure enough, it was Jeffery. They had been coming home - Connie's was 7 miles closer to our house from Ang's. So we brought Jeffery home - obviously he was meant to stay with us. And he's been here ever since. He's got arthritis in all of his joints and cataracts in his eyes now, and he drools all over through the hole where his lost fang used to be, but he's so great. And soon he'll be 19.
We found Jackson, when I was in middle school, hiding under Evan's car (that's my brother) in the driveway. He was smaller than the size of my hand, at the time, and his starving, but bloated little tummy was all you could hold on to - and touching it felt like you'd break every single rib, which you could feel through his paper thin skin. His fur, black and white in no specific pattern, was longish and his little blue eyes were piercing. He ate that day as if he'd never seen food, nor ever would again. This is a trait he never lost. Jack is now one of the fattest cats we've had (and we've had lots of cats over the years). He eats food like it's going out of business. He's fiesty and has been hateful for years. Except recently, he's been warming up, as if maturing, post mid-life crisis. When he was tiny still, he used to run up your leg to sit in your lap - whether or not you were wearing long pants. His claws were like razors. We had him declawed during a brief stint when he was an indoor cat, but he proved too adventurous and wild, so we let him loose. Sad, if you think about it, we took away his only means of defense. Or so we thought. Turns out, Jackson can still climb trees, somehow. I've seen it many a time, and I am a witness to his lack of claws. Must be a miracle. He became best friends with our Golden Retriever, Dusty, during the final years of Dusty's life. They slept together in Dusty's pen in our sideyard, and Jack always smelled like dog. When Dusty died, though, Jackson went through a time when he would walk around the pen, looking for his playmate - and he was very subdued for a few weeks - as if missing something. It was heart-breaking.
Blackie (this will be short, I promise) is a stray that my dad has tamed since I came to college. She started living under our shed a few winters ago, and Dad felt sorry for her at the same time that he was intrigued by her color - black. She came from a nasty line of strays that live in a woods about 1/4 mile from our house. These gross cats are fed by our neighbors, who claim to have no cats, so the population is out of control. At first she only allowed Dad to touch her, but now, if I'm lucky, I can pick her up and sit her on my lap for 2 minutes to pet her. She is sweet though.
My parents sometimes forget to look at the cats, I think, when I'm not here. Jeffery always has new problems (he is old) and this time Jackson has some nasty eye fungus or infection and he coughing and sneezing and they won't take him to the vet. I'm trying to get him taken care of, but when I only come home once in a great while, it's pretty tough.
Jeff is your typical grey-striped tabby cat, but he is very unique in 2 aspects. 1) He is missing one fang (they have 2), he lost it in a battle either against another cat (which he was eager to fight in his young days) or against some small critter that he was eating (probably lost it crunching on that critter's bones). 2) He has had an amazing life. Given to us by our old piano teacher, he broke his leg jumping off of the hood of my dad's station wagon in his first year and had to wear a splint for a month or so. Everytime we came home from school we'd hear the clicking of the metal part of the splint on the concrete of our driveway. The second amazing adventure Jeff had was when my parents decided to get rid of him, along with our other cat at the time, Missy (who kept having babies - she had 4 litters while with us). So I found a friend at school who lived on a farm to take them in. I'd ask her how they were getting along and Angie would tell me they were just fine, enjoying farm life. Then, a month or so after they went to her farm, my aunt Connie had 2 strange cats show up at her farm. One of them fit the description of Jeffery, the other Missy. The odd thing was that Connie's farm was over 7 miles away from Angie's, so the probability of it being our cats was slim to none. We went over to Connie's and saw one of them, and sure enough, it was Jeffery. They had been coming home - Connie's was 7 miles closer to our house from Ang's. So we brought Jeffery home - obviously he was meant to stay with us. And he's been here ever since. He's got arthritis in all of his joints and cataracts in his eyes now, and he drools all over through the hole where his lost fang used to be, but he's so great. And soon he'll be 19.
We found Jackson, when I was in middle school, hiding under Evan's car (that's my brother) in the driveway. He was smaller than the size of my hand, at the time, and his starving, but bloated little tummy was all you could hold on to - and touching it felt like you'd break every single rib, which you could feel through his paper thin skin. His fur, black and white in no specific pattern, was longish and his little blue eyes were piercing. He ate that day as if he'd never seen food, nor ever would again. This is a trait he never lost. Jack is now one of the fattest cats we've had (and we've had lots of cats over the years). He eats food like it's going out of business. He's fiesty and has been hateful for years. Except recently, he's been warming up, as if maturing, post mid-life crisis. When he was tiny still, he used to run up your leg to sit in your lap - whether or not you were wearing long pants. His claws were like razors. We had him declawed during a brief stint when he was an indoor cat, but he proved too adventurous and wild, so we let him loose. Sad, if you think about it, we took away his only means of defense. Or so we thought. Turns out, Jackson can still climb trees, somehow. I've seen it many a time, and I am a witness to his lack of claws. Must be a miracle. He became best friends with our Golden Retriever, Dusty, during the final years of Dusty's life. They slept together in Dusty's pen in our sideyard, and Jack always smelled like dog. When Dusty died, though, Jackson went through a time when he would walk around the pen, looking for his playmate - and he was very subdued for a few weeks - as if missing something. It was heart-breaking.
Blackie (this will be short, I promise) is a stray that my dad has tamed since I came to college. She started living under our shed a few winters ago, and Dad felt sorry for her at the same time that he was intrigued by her color - black. She came from a nasty line of strays that live in a woods about 1/4 mile from our house. These gross cats are fed by our neighbors, who claim to have no cats, so the population is out of control. At first she only allowed Dad to touch her, but now, if I'm lucky, I can pick her up and sit her on my lap for 2 minutes to pet her. She is sweet though.
My parents sometimes forget to look at the cats, I think, when I'm not here. Jeffery always has new problems (he is old) and this time Jackson has some nasty eye fungus or infection and he coughing and sneezing and they won't take him to the vet. I'm trying to get him taken care of, but when I only come home once in a great while, it's pretty tough.
04 March 2005
Known for Mistakes
My hometown newspaper is notorious for making horrible mistakes, whether it's typos or putting the wrong name with the wrong person (and here everybody knows who everybody else is) or mistitling articles. For instance, a title on the front page of one of last week's editions said 'Trooper Killed.' The inside article title was "Cop dies from shooting in Vincennes." The actual article, however, stated that no police officer died, in fact, no officer was shot. Instead, the officers had shot someone who was committing a crime. Right - so the people writing the titles didn't bother to actually read the article before publishing. Unbelievable.
Here's another excerpt from the Rochester Sentinel: "Public television is akin to the body politic's appendix: It is vestigial, purposeless, and occasionally troublesome."
Amen, and Amen.
Here's another excerpt from the Rochester Sentinel: "Public television is akin to the body politic's appendix: It is vestigial, purposeless, and occasionally troublesome."
Amen, and Amen.
03 March 2005
Wrong Side of the Bed
Today was awful. Despite the sunny, blue skies that lasted until after 7 pm. Every minute of today has been a burden.
I tried to figure out why. Perhaps it was the realistic conversation I had with Simon on marriage and relationships and the uselessness of it all. Perhaps it was talking to Emily and Maddie for an hour and longing for Arizona more than I can even express. Perhaps it is the fact that I've not been able to run for 2 1/2 weeks because of this awful cold I've had. Or it could be the retarded class I was forced to be in today, and every Thursday, for that matter.
Three things made today livable. First, Garien stopped by and talked to me while I was working the reference desk for an hour. It was wonderful. Second, while working, I was able to help 2 people find the resources they desparately needed. And the last thing was a spontaneous trip to Marsh with Elaine. Thank you so much, dear. I needed that right then.
God bless those people.
I tried to figure out why. Perhaps it was the realistic conversation I had with Simon on marriage and relationships and the uselessness of it all. Perhaps it was talking to Emily and Maddie for an hour and longing for Arizona more than I can even express. Perhaps it is the fact that I've not been able to run for 2 1/2 weeks because of this awful cold I've had. Or it could be the retarded class I was forced to be in today, and every Thursday, for that matter.
Three things made today livable. First, Garien stopped by and talked to me while I was working the reference desk for an hour. It was wonderful. Second, while working, I was able to help 2 people find the resources they desparately needed. And the last thing was a spontaneous trip to Marsh with Elaine. Thank you so much, dear. I needed that right then.
God bless those people.
Precious
What does a cross mean?
"Jesus will take me to heaven."
Who is in heaven?
"God."
What are the streets in heaven made out of?
"Jewelry."
What do you want to get Papa for his birthday?
"A purple Care Bear."
What kind of cake does Grandma want for her birthday?
"Uuumm...chocolate. Gramma loves chocolate cake."
Are you excited for Uncle Evan, Aunt Leslie, and Emily and Aunt Lana to come visit you?
"Evan, Leslie and Lana are coming in March."
Yes, we are. Very good.
"They're coming in March."
"I miss you, Lana. Bye bye, I love you."
Is there anything more precious than a 2 and 1/2 year old saying all of these things to you? I forget that she isn't 6 or 12 even. I've never met a more amazing person. How sweet and innocent is this little girl! If only you could all meet her, then life would be okay.
"Jesus will take me to heaven."
Who is in heaven?
"God."
What are the streets in heaven made out of?
"Jewelry."
What do you want to get Papa for his birthday?
"A purple Care Bear."
What kind of cake does Grandma want for her birthday?
"Uuumm...chocolate. Gramma loves chocolate cake."
Are you excited for Uncle Evan, Aunt Leslie, and Emily and Aunt Lana to come visit you?
"Evan, Leslie and Lana are coming in March."
Yes, we are. Very good.
"They're coming in March."
"I miss you, Lana. Bye bye, I love you."
Is there anything more precious than a 2 and 1/2 year old saying all of these things to you? I forget that she isn't 6 or 12 even. I've never met a more amazing person. How sweet and innocent is this little girl! If only you could all meet her, then life would be okay.
02 March 2005
How to Make Me Happy
Send me a Bible, the exact one I want, as a gift and leave it at the Reference desk in the library, so I can find it when I'm bored at work.
Send me an email that says you miss me and can't wait for me to come to Arizona so you can see me.
Clean the dishes and the sink and the counter when you're finished cooking.
Vacuum the floor at least once a week.
Make a list.
Send me an email that says you miss me and can't wait for me to come to Arizona so you can see me.
Clean the dishes and the sink and the counter when you're finished cooking.
Vacuum the floor at least once a week.
Make a list.
01 March 2005
Tuesday Blues
I don't know why this is, but every time I encounter the women at the Grille, I feel like a prisoner at Auschwitz, like I don't deserve to be eating food and that I've also offended them with my existence. Why is this? Perhaps it is because the most prominent Grille employee stares you down as if you are in fact stealing from her personal store of food. Or maybe it is in the way she unsmilingly says, "Have a nice day" and you know she really means, "I'm watching you." She terrifies me.
Why on earth must I sit through a class that is not relevant to my life, while pretending that it is my life? My freelance class is a joke. I have not been taught a single thing by my instructor. The assignments we receive have no direction; they are completely vague like "Write a nonfiction article" and "Write a book review for a specific publication of your choice." Ok. I did. How are you grading me on this? Yet we receive grades and she takes off points for not including the graphics of the original piece - but that's because the publisher provided those graphics. Every day that I sit through that hour and fifteen minutes of utter confusion, I question my major and its relevance to life. I don't even need this class to graduate. Dear Lord, give me patience.
Not to be crabby or depressing today, but it is snowing alot and it's as cold as it was in January, what with the wind and icy sidewalks and slushy roads. I'm sure glad it's March 1st!
Why on earth must I sit through a class that is not relevant to my life, while pretending that it is my life? My freelance class is a joke. I have not been taught a single thing by my instructor. The assignments we receive have no direction; they are completely vague like "Write a nonfiction article" and "Write a book review for a specific publication of your choice." Ok. I did. How are you grading me on this? Yet we receive grades and she takes off points for not including the graphics of the original piece - but that's because the publisher provided those graphics. Every day that I sit through that hour and fifteen minutes of utter confusion, I question my major and its relevance to life. I don't even need this class to graduate. Dear Lord, give me patience.
Not to be crabby or depressing today, but it is snowing alot and it's as cold as it was in January, what with the wind and icy sidewalks and slushy roads. I'm sure glad it's March 1st!
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