We interrupt this program...

Okay, I'm interrupting the Monthly Sun Program (which, some day, will be redundant if summer ever gets here!) to bring you BASEBALL. Get used to this folks, as my favorite sport will take up much of my time and energy for the next few (hopefully, several) months.

I traveled to our nation's capital, Washington, DC, to visit my sister and also to check out the Washington National's new ballpark. Oh, did I mention that my Cubs were playing the Nationals while I was there? Coincidence? I think not. My Cubs came to DC with one of the best records in baseball (in the early season) and the 'Nats' had one of the worst. Of course, the Nats won two of the three games ;-((

As for the ballpark itself, ....

Gotta be one of the worst advertising slogans. Geez! It sounds like the team is continually on the disabled list! Second worst: "Walgreens. The official drugstore of the Chicago Cubs."
Cubs closer Kerry Wood and relief pitcher Bob Howry share a laugh on the way to the bullpen during Saturday's game. Did I mention that Nationals Park is a pretty big ballpark? At least behind home plate, that is. It only holds between 41-44,000 fans (okay, I haven't read the program yet to get an exact number).

I'm still saying that the Nationals' logo W looks EXACTLY like a Walgreens W.


My first view of major league baseball's newest ballpark.


Inaugural season?!? Yep, we're talking historic, folks! So, of course, I bought the inaugural t-shirt and the $10 inaugural program. And it all went into a chest chock full o' baseball memorabilia.


Everything's shiny and new here, including the centerfield entry gate. Oh, and the employees were more welcoming than your favorite grandmother, I swear! Not very efficient, but definitely friendly.


My sister was happy to tell me that the 'Nats' have the largest high-definition screen in all of baseball. Well, since their season record sucks so far, at least they have THAT going for them!


The Cubs' ace pitcher, Carlos Zambrano, warmed up in the bullpen directly in front of us. He picked up the win on that day as the Cubs won, 7-0.

Every park has their 'thing' and at Nats Park, it's the fifth-inning Presidents Race. Apparently, Teddy Roosevelt is the house favorite, but he never seems to win. I even saw a guy holding a sign that said "Let Teddy win." On this day, a 6-foot rat (which my sister said is very appropriate for this park, but that's another story) jumped out of the stands and tackled poor Teddy. Oh well, maybe next game.

The old South

Chareston, South Carlina -- In a nutshell: beautiful gardens, romantic old-world architecture and feminine pastels everywhere you look. And yours truly was the offficial photographer. Enjoy!

Third time's a charm

There I was, sitting quietly on the 136 bus, minding my own business, reading a travel magazine and trying to decompress from a crazy day at work. The bus paused at the second stop on the route (I got on at the first stop) and a businessman with white curly hair boards and rudely tells me to move.

Despite the plethora of empty seats, I get up and move a few seats away. I don't say anything because I'm so shocked at this bullying manuever from a 50- or 60-something businessman. The man sits in my now-warm seat, takes out a stack of papers and begins to look them over as if he's sitting at his desk with a cup of coffee.

Mind you, this area is priority seating (for handicapped, elderly and pregnant passengers) and it fills up quickly during rush hour with mainly able-bodied folks like me...and him.

A week later, the same thing happens. Same man, same seat, same demand.

Never one to back down from a fight, I formulated a carefully-worded, polite, friendly but firm rebuttal for the next time he tried that. But the next time never came.

Until today.

The curly white head was there at the bus stop and I quickly pulled out my magazine. I buried my head in the pages as the bus doors opened and tried to remember the first few words of my prepared speech.

I saw the black dress shoes and gray trousers stop in front of my seat. I held my breath and braced myself for the verbal assault. Would I have the nerve to strike back and not look like a complete bitch to a busload of passengers?

"Damn," he muttered under his breath. And then he continued on to an unoccupied seat a few feet away.

I tried not to smile.

Code word: persistence

How often do you win a round against 'the man'? Well, I don't win them very often, but it is soooo satisfying when I do so I decided to share this with you.

This battle started well over a year ago. My opponent? My health insurance company.

Let me give you some background on the battle...I'm not a person that goes to the doctor very often. Like many women, I go once a year for my annual 'poke and prod.' Okay, that's not the technical term, but I think most women will understand and the guys can just guess.

As a result of an abnormal routine check-up, I had to get another test. The bill for the second test came to over $600 and my insurance declined payment (the rat bastards). Why? I was told by the insurance company that I was 'too old' for this procedure to be covered by insurance. WTF?!?!

Turns out, the procedure was coded as a routine check-up and my shitty insurance (which, as an independent consultant I pay a TON for!) would not cover the charges if I'm older than 16.

Um, excuse me, but how many girls UNDER 16 are getting this done??!! I'm thinking not too many. It was the word 'routine' and the code number that rubbed my insurance company the wrong way.

I called the doctor's office and discussed the coding with the office manager. Turns out, the procedure isn't routine (no shit Sherlock, since I've never had it done and I'm into my 40s now!)and should've been coded differently.

I suspected that my insurance would put up a fuss about this because for the first time in, I don't know, FOREVER! I have almost reached my yearly deductible. That means they would have to pay up -- finally!

Another code, another filing with the insurance company. Second round of coding is wrong, too, because the doctor's office used a code that is no longer valid. Claim is once again declined!
ARRGGHH!!!

Another call to the doctor's office. Another code. I'm now on a first-name basis with the office manager.

The procedure originally was performed on February 1, 2007. And today, April 7, 2008, I received a letter from my insurance company stating that after the PPO reduction, I may owe my doctor a grand total of $51.20.

Yay me!!

Monthly sun program to South Carolina, but first...

On Wednesday of this week, I will join my sisters (well, two of my three sisters at least) in Charleston, South Carolina. Although I've heard that this is a very beautiful place full of historic homes and gorgeous manicured gardens, I must admit that my mind has been a bit preoccupied with the next big event on my social calendar -- Opening Day at Wrigley Field! As this sign at Murphy's Bleacher's attests, there is but one more day until baseball officially returns to Chicago!


I strolled around the hallowed grounds of Wrigley Field today to take in the new sights including the status of "Mr Cub"Ernie Banks. The man played his ENTIRE career at Wrigley Field and they're finally getting around to erecting this statue (which, unfortunately, looks like it's wrapped in a body bag...or maybe it's a Hefty bag). Mr. Banks walked past me at the Waveland Avenue exit to the ballpark. We chatted for a moment, but all I said was "Congratulations! See you tomorrow." I'm so glad the Cubs are honoring the guy while he's still alive. You don't see that very often.

What was once two apartment buildings in the enviable position across the street from Wrigley Field is now the newest venue for ball-game viewing on Sheffield. Apparently, the owners are not keen on joining the club of Wrigley rooftop owners. I hear they're getting a lot of pressure. Sounds kinda Mafia-like to me! Ya gotta love that there's always some drama at Wrigley, whether on the field or on the rooftops!

Wrigley's going green...or maybe they just ran out of parking lot! I wonder if they'll lock up my scooter if I ride it to the ballpark some day?

The Wrigley Field Marketing Department started selling 'pavers' a few years ago, a brick that is engraved with your name and some special sentiment. The fan receives a replica brick for their home or office and the original is placed somewhere in the sidewalk surrounding the ballpark. Nope, I don't have a paver. Not yet.

Um, maybe I'll pack for Charleston on Tuesday. After all, my flight isn't until Wednesday morning. All kinds of time, right? Go Cubs!

Spring Training - - off-field highlights

• When the Seattle Mariners walked in from the team bus on Friday, I thought somebody looked familiar. I said, "Jim?" and he turned to me. It was Jim Riggleman, the former Cubs manager who tried to get me to go out with him several years ago. Although I remembered him, I'm quite sure that he had no idea who I was.


• If you didn't already notice the hot car that's pictured somewhere on this blog, check it out! It's a Pontiac Solstice and my choice at the rental facility was either that or - - I'm not kidding - - an SUV! It's probably a good thing that I was traveling alone because there is seriously NO ROOM in that car. I even had to put my 22-inch carry-on in the passenger seat because there wasn't enough room in the itsy-bitsy trunk. And the buttons for the window are perfectly positioned - - if I had fingers attached to my elbow. But it looked good and that's the important thing for a weekend away.


• After Friday's game, I went to Sluggo's, a sports bar about a mile from the ballpark. That's where I met George and the three Joes (no lie, that's how they introduced themselves). George is Nigerian and the Joes were Mexican (and one is a Chicago cop). They were fun to talk to, bought all the beer, and invited me to join them for drinks later that night. All around a good evening that did NOT entail any romantic encounters for me (which was a good thing because I just wasn't feeling it with any of these fellas).


• Saturday's crowd on the hill, at least the crowd in my immediate vicinity, was full of Vancouver boys. The Canadians were in town to golf and hang out, but baseball seemed to be too good a time to pass up. Or maybe it was just the chance to sit on a hill in the sun and drink beer. Oh, did I mention they bought all of my beer that afternoon? It was shaping up to be a pretty budget-friendly weekend, at least where liquor was concerned. Yay me!


• Being the creature of habit that I am, I ended up at Sluggo's again on Saturday and ran into Randy Hundley, the longtime Cubs catcher and father of former Cub Todd Hundley. Somehow I knew he looked familiar and was dressed far too well to be the usual baseball fan, so I asked the waitress to find out his name. I always enjoy talking to former players (I guess I should say former baseball players!)


• I've always felt sorry for people on TV for their lack of anonymity. Everybody knows them, but they don't know everyone back. So I was really embarrassed when "Pat!" came out of my mouth as I recognized Cubs announcer Pat Hughes in the airport bar shortly before my flight home on Sunday. He was kind enough to introduce himself and I did likewise. If the timing had been different (i.e. my flight, actually our flight, was leaving in a few minutes), I would have like nothing more than to talk baseball with Pat. Maybe in Chicago?
• I couldn't go to Spring Training and not stop in Don and Charlies', the Scottsdale restaurant that masquerades as a sports bar. Okay, it has more sports memorabilia either hanging from the ceiling or framed or box on the walls than even Harry Caray's restaurant in Chicago. Anyway, I was sitting in the bar when the (female) bartender said, "You remind me of someone." This happens so often, I'm going to get t-shirt printed up with "I AM NO ONE YOU KNOW" on it. How's this for an obscure moment of glory? I remind her of the actress who played the bride in the Jennifer Lopez/Matthew McConaghey movie "The Wedding Planner." Um, yeah, okay. $10 if you can name her?!

Cubs Spring Training 2008

Alfonso Soriano, the Cubs' gazillion dollar player, actually signed a few autographs after one of the games...and I almost got squashed in the process!


Oh my aching back! Just kidding. I'm pretty sure they feel just fine!

Um, is that regulation baseball equipment? Sorry, but if someone's gonna stick that in my face, I'm definitely taking a picture!

No, he's not practicing his proposals. I believe Matt Murton's already married, but I could be wrong.

Morning calisthenics? Actually, just the beginning of the usual pre-game warm-ups. Don't they look silly?

The front of this lady's shirt has a big "101" with a slash across it. Translated for my Euro friends: 2008 marks the 100th anniversary since the Cubs last won a World Series. We'd rather not see the 101st anniversary.

Some action from Friday's game against the Seattle Mariners, which the Cubs won! Actually, they won all three games that weekend. Maybe I'm a good luck charm?!

The 2008 Chicago Cubs take the field in Mesa, Arizona!

Geovany Soto knocks in one of the 13 runs that the Cubs scored in a rout of the Kansas City Royals on Sunday.

This is the left-field hill at Ho Ho Kam Park in Mesa. The entrance to the hill area (the 'berm') has been open for approximately 2 minutes! Kinda anxious to get out there?!?!

Did I mention that this was my ride for the weekend? No soccer mom minivan for me!

Mark Grudzielanek, the second baseman for the Kansas City Royals, is still a favorite of mine despite his being a former Cub.

This is one of, I think, three times that the Cubs had the bases loaded in Sunday's game against the Royals.

The Royals and the Texas Rangers share the stadium in Surprise, Arizona and it's a very nice stadium. No surprise there.

Ryan Dempster and Geovany Soto share a few minutes of strategizing prior to Sunday's game. Dempster, who's moving from a relief role to the starting rotation, pitched well, giving up just one run on one hit over four innings.

I've met Dempster several times (he actually says hello to me - usually). Before the game that day, I stood near the wall as Dempster walked by. I yelled something at him and he looked over. No smile, no wave. All concentration. Total focus and it showed.

Have a great b-day Maple!

Monthly Sun Program, installment #2

No, don't go scrolling down looking for installment #1, because there isn't one. The Monthly Sun Program is my plan to find warmth and sun during the long, cold Chicago winter. In January, I headed to Fort Lauderdale, Florida where it was warm for one day and cold and rainy for two. Hence, no monthly sun installment #1.

Which brings me to February and my first ever trip to Southern California. Let me start by saying that people in Southern California aren't like other people.

Take this young guy, for instance. He's on a surf board, but he really isn't surfing. Perhaps he's kayaking? Maybe. I think maybe he's a frustrated gondolier gone astray from Venice!

Southern Californians do things a bit differently, like they only have crosswalks on one side of the street. Not sure why. And they wear suede and wool knee-high boots on the beach with tank tops!

Also, stop lights last only about 12 seconds. For laid-back people, these guys really want to get going. But not too fast! I'm pretty sure that for about 30% of the population, the speed limit is actually about 10 mph UNDER what's posted.

Which brings me to this girl, who was demonstrating some wheeled fun at a flea market in Costa Mesa. I WANT ONE!!

There is a place in Costa Mesa called Triangle Square. You will recognize it not by either geometric shape mentioned in its monniker, but by the large DOME that sits atop it. I have no idea why.

I didn't stay in Costa Mesa, but rather Laguna Beach ('cause you KNOW how I love the beach!) and this shot was taken right around the corner from my hotel.




Yes, I did stay and watch not only beach volleyball but beach (sort of) basketball, too. I think if they played baseball on the beach, I'd move here!



My theory on the utter lack of clear and understandable street signs in Southern California relies on the idea that maybe they're considered ugly, and I think we all know that UGLY just won't do in Southern California. The sign for the Orange County airport is about the size of the street sign at the corner of your block. Go have a look, I'll wait.

Oh, speaking of beautiful people, I was watching the local news one early evening while getting dressed to go out in Laguna Beach. The newscaster started talking about the Academy Awards (aka Oscars) and then she talked about road closures and I thought, what does that have to do with the Oscars?

Um, oh yeah, this is actually where they have the show! Oops!

On my last night in Southern California, I went out to dinner (alone, of course) and ended up eating in the bar area of this very nice beach restaurant. I chatted with the bartender a bit during dinner and mostly read the book I had brought along.

When the couple sitting next to me at the bar finished their meal, they called to the bartender and asked him to get their bill. They seemed to be fun and interesting people (from some of their conversation that I overheard), so out of Midwestern friendliness, I joked, "Yeah, put mine on there too!"

The man turned to me, smiled and said, "Yeah, okay." "No! I was just kidding!" I protested.

But he was adamant, "That's okay. You can pay it forward."

Did I mention that people in Southern California aren't like other people?

Guns don't kill people; people kill people....bullshit!

What the hell's going on?!?!?

In the past three days: a man broke into a city council meeting in Kirkwood, Missouri and shot and killed five people and critically wounded the mayor before police shot and killed him; a woman shot and killed two other women on the campus of a college in Baton Rouge, Louisiana before killing herself; another guy had planned to gun down numerous people outside the recent Super Bowl in Arizona. He didn't follow through.

Reasons??? The Kirkwood guy was mad because the city had cited him for improper permits for his paving business. The Baton Rouge woman's motives are still unclear, but the Super Bowl would-be shooter was angry because his restaurant couldn't get a liquor license.

People get mad. I understand that. I'm getting really tired of these senseless shootings!

What ever happened to a good, old-fashioned fight? You know. With fists. The thing that results when you clench your hairy little paw?!

If I want to kill someone and they are standing 300 feet from me, I can do it easily if I have a gun. What a chicken-shit I'd be!

But if I don't have a gun? I have to run over there and try to inflict some serious damage with my own two hands. I'm not that big or that strong, so chances are, that person has a very good chance of defending themselves. Or maybe not.

But it's FAIR! And I'd have to be pretty courageous (or stupid) to jump someone just because I'm mad at them.

What kind of gutless coward settles their argument with a gun? They sneak up behind their enemy or drive past in a car with shaded windows. The level of cowardice just boggles my mind.

In olden days, a disagreement would be settled with a duel. Two men would announce their issue and fight very publicly with each having an equal chance to win. Those were the days of real men.

I say, 'Cowboy up!'

You have a problem with someone? If you can't settle it diplomatically and physical violence is your only option - -as you see it- - just punch them in the nose.

It's organic.

Ever want to get away???

Remember TSG? The guy I'd been trading emails with who said he wanted "in?" Well, since I hadn't heard anything from him since that encouraging (if short) email, I was left wondering. And never one to let sleeping dogs lie, I decided to poke it a little.

"Maybe I misunderstood," I wrote in my email. "I thought you wanted 'in' as if you were 'INterested' in being 'INvolved.'"

Just a day later, I received an email from TSG apologizing for his disappearance but it seems his mother is in the hospital and will probably never come home again. He's spent the last few weeks caring for her and trying to make the impossible decisions regarding her long-term care and housing.

Um...yep, that nails it. I'm going to burn in hell.

Career homework

Yes, I've been seeing somebody. Actually, two somebodies. But it's not what you think.

They're career counselors. S and J are being paid well to guide me to a career that I hope will be not only lucrative ('cause you KNOW how much I love $$$) but satisfying as well. We'll see.

In the meantime, they've given me homework. And it's harder than you'd think.

Think back throughout your entire life (including the days when you were too young to think about a paycheck) and try to remember all of your achievements. It doesn't matter if it was something that seems trivial now. It was a success to you. A gold star next to your name.

Whether it was organizing babysitting jobs for you and your friends or being named vice president of marketing or trimming $5,000 off the company's office supply budget.

Try to remember as many as you can...in detail. Write up each of them in about 100 words.

Next, take each individual achievement and list all the skills that were necessary to reach that goal. Maybe you are good at asking questions or you make people feel comfortable talking to you. Also on that page, list the qualities that you exhibited in achieving it (yes, I thought the first two seem to be the same thing, but whatever) and a third list of the people who supported you in that success.

By now, you are probably knee-deep in paper. If you are, you are farther along than I am.

I'll keep you posted. And yes, this stuff is coming with me to Florida. I'll try not to spill a pina colada on it!

Please define 'in'

Remember a week or two ago, when I asked TSG if he wanted to stay in contact with me (since we hadn't seen each other since August) and he said that he wants in?

I guess I should have defined 'in' like INterested or INvolved because I haven't heard a word from him since then.

But you know what? I'm not going to stress over it because I really don't have the time. I leave for Florida on Saturday morning and I've got to pack!

Cross your fingers for fun and sun!

Stew on this

It was with a mixture of excitement and trepidation that I parked outside the rundown church a few miles north of my neighborhood. This would be my first volunteering assignment and I really didn't know what to expect but I planned to keep an open mind.

A growling stomach would be horrifyingly inconvenient when serving dinner to people for whom this might be their ONLY hot meal this week, so I made certain to snack before I left home. A few hours earlier, I threw some veggies, some cubed meat, beef broth, red wine, crushed tomatoes and a bunch of spices into my crockpot and set it on low (and tried not to feel guilty about my late dinner of homemade beef stew).

Several of our 'clients' had already arrived when I walked into the third floor auditorium-turned-dining room. Our team leader immediately instructed me to tie my hair back, wash my hands, and grab a clean apron.

I'm ashamed to admit that I expected the room to be filled with stick-thin elderly black men in grubby ripped clothes - - the 'underpriviledged' as my suburban upbringing drew them. To my surprise and dismay, the room filled with a group that reflected most any neighborhood in Chicago. Black, white, hispanic, asian, young, old, men, women (okay, not many women) all in old, but clean clothes.

The faces were different, but they all wore smiles of gratitude. Not a single person who received food that night neglected to say 'thank you' or 'God bless you.' I was humbled when our clients gave us a round of applause just for helping out.

My job, as it turned out, was to serve the entree. Or rather, to fill the largest compartment on the cafeteria trays that we filled and served to our guests. Pasta, salad, applesauce and cake occupied the other tray areas.

The main dish?

Beef stew.

The apple fell pretty far I guess

As is the norm for Saturday mornings, I drove out to the suburbs to take my 80-year-old mother out to breakfast. It was a deal we made when I became a North Sider and moved "all the way up here" (about 30 minutes north).

Anyway, since I know that my mom likes to live vicariously through me, I try to come prepared with little tidbits of things that are going on in my life. You know, so the breakfast will be entertaining for her. And, so she won't get on my nerves about not having her idea of a perfect life (i.e. husband, kids, dog, house with white picket fence). The woman really knows how to push my buttons sometimes.

In keeping with my new spirit of life in 2008, I thought I'd let my mom know about the volunteer projects that I'm signing up for (including serving dinner to some homeless people and helping to re-organize the library in a local charter school).

This from the woman who has cleaned our local church every week since time began,
"Why would you let them take advantage of you like that?"

Yep, did your jaw drop open too?

The great is starting (I think)

Way back last summer when Firecracker (now Maple) and I used to go to Cubs games, we'd meet a lot of fun people. One of these people was a guy I called the Tall Southern Gentleman (TSG).

You may remember that TSG and I were in touch until late August when his best friend and said friend's wife were involved in a terrible car accident. The wife died and TSG was hit very hard as she was like a sister to him. He fell out of touch.

Fast forward to November.

Upon returning from Australia, I decided to drop him a line. He had warned that he'd be out of contact 'for quite some time,' but since I didn't know him very well, his definition of 'quite some time' might be different from mine.

I received a nice, polite email in return, saying that he thought about me quite a bit when the Cubs went to the playoffs (alas, his Detroit Tigers crashed and burned). Nothing about coming to Chicago to take me to dinner (which is where we left it in August). Hmmnn??

A few weeks and a few emails went by and it became more and more apparent that he was only returning my emails with no new input from him.

So, in light of my new mantra, I decided to call him on it. Fish or cut bait, right?

I waited until after the holiday craziness died down and then sent an email explaining my new mantra and how I expect great things for not only me, but also for people I know. And, essentially, is he IN or is he OUT?

A few short hours later, I had my answer.

"I am in."

Expect great in '08!

That's my mantra for this new year.

Expect great.

It's a big leap for me, right? I know it is, but I think it's time.

I HAVE to start thinking great things or else great things won't happen.

And they WILL happen. This year.

But where to start with all this expected greatness?

Here are some ideas:

• Smile more. (Tried it the other night at a nice restaurant and not one, not two, but THREE guys wanted to buy me a drink!)
  
• Be open to more new things and new people.
• Keep my mouth shut more (yep, a challenge, I know).
• Take more chances.
• Do volunteer work (already signed up for two January events).
• Get rid of excess crap in my home (by the truckload people!).
• Create opportunities for more physical exercise (dancing, maybe?)
• All the little annoyances??? Just let them go!
• Learn to meditate (Jada?? a little help here please?)
• Find a job I LIKE! (spoke to career counselors already).
• Clean house in my relationships (If I lose contact with someone, there's probably a good reason for it. If they want to contact me, they probably know where to find me.)
  

And if 2009 rolls around and I haven't done all of these things (not just once, but regularly), it will still be okay.

Every little bit helps.

A new loo!!!

I'm sure I have photos somewhere of my old bathroom, but I can't find them (and I'm not going to stress over it like I used to!) so you'll just have to trust me when I say my new loo is INFINITELY prettier!!!

Okay, picture this: tiny gun-metal gray floor tiles, a commercial toilet (no tank, just a metal flushing handle), a plastic sink with a peeling wood vanity cabinet that rocked if you leaned against it, an old tub with a rusty drain and blue stick-on fish on the tub floor, and the cheapest round-bulb vanity light fixture with one stubborn bulb that always blew out immediately.

Got a good picture in your mind? Okay, now I have this!


For those of you with really good eyes, yes, these photos are ones I've taken on my many travels. I've used the theme 'water.' Seemed appropriate for the setting, doncha think?



The towels are navy blue, not black. I splurged and bought some terribly luxurious Egyptian cotton towels. Seriously, I don't think I could stand up with the weight of these towels when they are wet! Fabulous!




And, yes folks, the vanity countertop is black granite! No more plastic fake marble shit for me. I'm pretty pleased, if I must say so myself.

Too soon for New Year's resolutions??

Sorry about that sad Christmas post. I'm working on eliminating negative thoughts from my consciousness, but it's taking some time and more effort than I expected.

I'll do better next year.

I promise.

What are some of your New Year's resolutions?

Is there any eggnog left? Is it spiked?

It doesn't feel like Christmas.

Yes, it's cold outside (but the snow melted in a bizarre 50 degree day yesterday), but I don't have a single decoration in my home. Of course, if you count the Christmas cards I've received (mostly from former coworkers), then, yes, I have decorations.

For the first time EVER, my home does not have a Christmas tree. And for those that know me, my Christmas tree -- with its glass ornaments from all over the world and the wildest assortment of shapes and sizes of lights -- is a true highlight of the season for me. Putting my tree up always puts me in the holiday mood. That, and about six candy canes!

In past years, I've held a Christmas party where I continue my father's tradition and ask each guest to guess the number of lights on the tree. With lights shaped like icicles and poinsettias and giftboxes and flickering lanterns and snowflakes, it's not an easy task to count them all.

Two years ago, one of my German colleagues (a very well-educated fella) worked up a scientific formula to come up with a number. And he won a bottle of tequila for closest guess!

As disappointing as it is, there is one good reason for the lack of arboreal decor. My bathroom remodel, which was supposed to be finished by mid-December at the latest! is still going on. Although it's only my bathroom that's under construction, the dust and debris and truckload full of tools throughout my apartment made cleaning (let alone decorating) impossible up until a few days ago. I just couldn't bring myself to clean and decorate after Dec. 20, knowing I'd be taking it all down in only a week or two.

Christmas shopping has been one of my great and rewarding challenges these last few years. I've been lucky enough to make a decent salary, so I use my good fortune to buy what I think are pretty cool presents for my family. Finding a gift that will make someone say "Wow!" when they open it is really fun for me.

I said it's a 'challenge' and never has that been more true than this year. To begin with, I spent my first few weeks post-Australia visiting my brother in the hospital, so no Christmas shopping then. I came home from vacation to a HUGE mess and a less-than-ideal situation with regards to personal hygiene (i.e. sponge baths and hair washing in the kitchen sink!)

Not one of my family members gave me a hint as to their needs and wants for Christmas this year, so my creative juices really worked overtime to come up with good gifts.

And my job, in a word - sucks! So much so that I have an appointment with a career counselor next week and if the stars align and I don't lose my nerve, I will be leaving my shitty job in 2008.

Can you say 'stressed'?

Finally!! I finished my Christmas shopping on Thursday (although my mother's gift - - which is usually really great since I set the bar so high with her past gifts- -is back-ordered!). The back-up plan for her gift is strangely back-ordered also. I say strangely because I wanted to purchase the DVD of an old British TV show that my mom and I used to watch when I was younger. It wasn't a very popular show in the US, but apparently, it's the No.1 gift this year because every store and every online outlet has it backordered!! WTF!!!

Oh, get this! While purchasing my brother's family's gift, I messed up my shoulder.

Any doctors in the house? Let me ask you: if my right arm hurts after lugging around a large heavy box and during the night, I roll over onto it and hear a loud 'pop' and, in the morning, it feels better, does that mean I dislocated it?

I've decided that 2008 will bring changes for me. I just hope they're good ones!

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope Santa brings you everything you've wished for!