Another school year ends

I was at church on Sunday. Yes, I go to church most Sundays. Maybe it's just a force of habit since I was raised Catholic, went to a Catholic grammar school, etc. Maybe I just find it comforting to have a peaceful place to think through my issues.
But I digress...
So here I sat at mass at 9:30 a.m. and I spotted a small group of blue-robed would-be graduates in the first few rows of the church, their square-topped caps sporting a gold tassel hanging on the left (that's how I knew they hadn't graduated yet...you move the tassel to the right after receiving your diploma).
I wasn't distressed to think that the presence of a large group of school kids might lengthen the time of the mass. I wasn't curious to know who's the class valedictorian, the class clown, the most-likely-to-succeed. I wasn't bored to hear the priest doling out words of wisdom to the class of 2010.
I was soooo jealous of the times that lay ahead of them. At 12 or 13 years old, they haven't even taken drivers ed yet MUCH less had to figure out car payments and insurance rates.
They haven't had to ignore that gossiping, immature idiot in the office cubicle next to theirs. They haven't had to surpress their nervousness as they prepare to present an idea in a corporate boardroom. And how to ask for that raise that they really need and deserve?!?!
Sitting there, sweating in their robes, they don't realize that opportunities await, chances to re-invent themselves. If their grammar school years showed them to be a smart, but nerdy guy, they had the chance to go to high school, meet so many different people and be the most popular class valedictorian in years!
If their grade-school pals were fun but dragged them down (troublemakers, lazy kids, not creative at all), they could make a new group of friends and take up new hobbies, try new classes (psychology? home economics?) and open up a whole new world for themselves.
As the royal blue-robed students filed past, I found myself green with envy.
I want a do-over!

When is family not family?

I just got an invitation to a party. An actual printed, US-posted missive asking me to join in a celebration. How cool is that? I love parties!
And I plan to completely ignore it.
Before you ask why I've got a stick up my butt about this particular party, let me explain a few things:
I'm the youngest of a LARGE family. My eldest sibling was in Vietnam when I was in grammar school, so the age gap is pretty significant. Most of my brothers and sisters are/were married and have kids, so the extended family is the size of suburban Chicago.
To illustrate this disparity in ages, let me point out that I have three grand-nephews (is that a word? sons of nephews?) and a nephew-by-marriage (my brother's stepson) also has a full family of his own.
And then there are the cousins. My family's fertility apparently knows no bounds.
I have...wait, let me count them up...I have to get a piece of paper and list them. Okay, how horrible is it that I had to go and find the Excel spreadsheet that a distant cousin made up during a family reunion several years ago?!?! I couldn't remember them all!
When I was a little kid (attending one of the aforementioned family reunions), I thought an elder cousin was, in fact, my aunt. Honest mistake, though, since there is just three tiny years' difference between me and that cousin's oldest CHILD!
Okay, here's the total. I have 20 first cousins. Add to that eight siblings, those siblings' kids (18 plus 1 stepson) and you have an army that could take over Australia.
Back to the invitation.
It's not from one of my brothers or sisters.
It's not from a nephew or niece.
It's not from a cousin.
It's an invitation to the eighth grade graduation of the oldest son of a cousin that I see approximately twice per year.
WTF?!
Just because we happen to have some watered-down version of the same blood flowing through our veins is not good enough reason to invite me to your party. (I know the invite was his mother's idea, not his. Still.) This teenager and I would not recognize each other if we passed in the street.
I'm not going to the party and you can't make me.
Where do you draw the line?

Recipes anyone??

Been watching WAAAAYYY too much of the Food Network lately. So much so that it led me to run to the nearest store and purchase a food processor.
Okay, let me back up a bit and admit that I didn't just run willy-nilly and throw cash at the first plastic bowl that had a blade attached. I did a bit of research (just enough to know that I didn't need to spend the national debt to get a decent one), but I will admit to falling for a commercial pitch.
Giada somebody-or-other hosts one of the myriad of cooking shows that I watch - - often. I'm not sure how she does this. but she manages to show every.single.tooth.in.her.head when she smiles (which she does a lot on her Food Network show). Didn't actually know a person could smile that big. Try it! It kinda hurts and you still don't show all the bottom teeth (at least I don't).
But I digress...
Anyway, she has a line of kitchen items at Target and they aren't terribly expensive. Seriously, my friends from outside the US will have another thing that they love about America and don't have where they live if they EVER shop at a Target store. Cute styles of clothes and sassy housewares, old-fashioned board games for the whole family, even a small grocery store.
Okay, can you tell I'm hungry since I can't keep a solid thought in my head?!?!
Anyway, please send whatever food processor recipes (that aren't terribly complicated or include ingredients unknown in the US, thank you) to me if you get the chance. Me and my new kitchen gadget would greatly appreciate it!

Red pen at the ready

Is it neice or niece?
Does the period go inside the quotation marks or outside?
When do you spell out a number?
Their, they're or there?
Alot or a lot?
'Somewhat unique' is an impossible phrase. Why?
Just between you and I? Or just between you and me?
The squirrels who ate my garden or the squirrels that ate my garden...?

Are we having fun yet? Try SIX HOURS of this!!!

Okay, in the interest of full disclosure, let me admit that I signed up for this. Paid for it, in fact. The class is called "Proofreading," or, as we like to call it, "Spelling, Grammar and Punctuation for Anal People...and We Mean That in a Good Way."

Yes, I'm one of those people that gets a tiny but excruciating cramp in my brain when I see something spelled wrong in a national ad or hear someone use the wrong tense. Don't even get me started on 'ain't' and 'don't got none.' (involuntary shudder)

For those of you who can't help but be curious about the list at the top of this post, I'll let you get your aspirin before I give you the answers.

Is it neice or niece? Niece
Does the period go inside the quotation marks or outside? Periods and commas go inside the quotation marks.
When do you spell out a number? In general, numbers under 10 are spelled out (unless they deal with weights, ages, addresses, dates and a bunch of other exceptions.
Their, they're or there? Their is a possessive pronoun (refers to ownership). They're is a contraction meaning 'they are.' There is an adverb showing direction and can also be used as a pronoun.
Alot or a lot? No such word as 'alot.'
'Somewhat unique' is an impossible phrase. Why? Unique is one-of-a-kind. It can't be somewhat. Either it is or it isn't.
Just between you and I? Or just between you and me? You and me. Turn it around and see that it just sounds correct.
The squirrels who ate my garden or the squirrels that ate my garden...? That is correct. Who is used for humans and animals with a name. Unless you've named your squirrels, of course.

I'm actually quite good at this and I can't decide if I'm proud of that...or horrified.

Big gulp

It was a perfect day for running errands. You know the type...sunny blue sky, light breeze, warm enough to have the windows down on the car, but not so hot that you stick to your seats. An unusually gorgeous spring day in Chicago.
Having just dropped off my tax return at the post office (I'm finally getting money back!!!! Yay me!), I pulled into the street and waited for the light to turn green so I could make a right-hand turn and head home. Damn those No Turn on Red signs!
In the intersection just ahead of me is a small junky Chevy waiting for the traffic to clear in order to finish a left-hand turn onto my street. Said Chevy is being driven by a woman whose age is showing as much as her scalp shows through the messy pile of brown curls on her head.
Although her turn won't affect mine, I wonder if she's one of those elderly ladies who don't do as George Carlin used to recommend to senior citizens ('Drive your age dammit! You don't have much time left! You've gotta get there FAST!')
I wonder if she's one of those ridiculously sllllloooooooowwww drivers that you have to resist the urge to honk at when they count to 10 before advancing on a newly-green light.
While waiting for the turn, the woman decided to grab a quick drink of water perhaps? from the bottle on the passenger seat.
Except this tiny, frail woman lifted a gigantic half-full TWO LITER bottle of Pepsi!
The Pepsi generation indeed.

Too cute for words

MESA, ARIZONA - - The boy had to be about 4 or 5 years old, standing along the fence with his 7-year-old sister and their mom. He was hold a baseball that, in his tiny hand, looked like a cantaloupe. They were waiting to collect an autograph from whatever Cubs baseball player came by on his way to the parking lot.
A Cubs minor leaguer, probably at least 3 or 4 years away from playing at Chicago's Wrigley Field, came down the row of fans, signing everything pushed toward him. The little guy reached over the fence and held the ball out, "Sign this! Sign this!"
The young athlete in the blue Cubs pinstripes whose name none of us knew, signed the ball and handed it back over the fence to the boy.
Jumping around bursting with joy, the little boy held the ball up, "He signed my BALL!!!! He signed my BALL!!!"
Mom reminded him of his manners and asked if he said thank you.
"THANK YOOUUUU!!"
I love Spring Training.

0 for 2

Married for 17 years with a 3-year-old daughter.
Lives in Southern California.
That's the line on the Brown and I can't say I'm surprised. Every time I've considered trying to look him up, I've steeled myself for the inevitable news that he's married.
OF COURSE he's married!!! He was a wonderfully sweet, caring, considerate, smart fella when I knew him a billion years ago. There had to be at least one woman in his path smart enough to snag him.
And he's still a Cubs fan, so I sent him an email as I've just returned from Cubs Spring Training in Arizona. He wanted an update on the team.
So we still have that.

And AT&T won the battle and the war. It turns out, the numerous calls to my voicemail are part of a diabolical scheme that the phone company has set up. When someone calls me and I don't answer, the phone forwards the call to my voicemail system. THIS IS CONSIDERED A PHONE CALL!!
I spoke to an AT&T representative and he explained that since I didn't pick a phone plan (excuse me, but 10 years ago, you just called the phone company upon moving in and asked what your new number was. There was no such thing as 'picking a plan.'), I was paying for each individual call.
What a load of crap!
Anyhoo, the rep suggested a plan where I would have unlimited local calls (duh!) and my costs would go down substantially. They get less $$$ and I get less frustration.
I'm going to call it a tie.

Do I really want to do this?

It's not like I don't have a lot on my plate already...what with fighting with AT&T, working out 5+ days a week (yay me!), eating almost every meal at home (read: cooking a LOT), preparing to go to Arizona for a week, and, oh yes, trying to start my own business.
Guess somewhere in my psyche, there was a millimeter of space that was itching for some activity. What kind of monkey wrench can I throw in here? I know! I'll look up an old boyfriend! That usually wreaks all kinds of havoc!
(I'm going to refer to him as "The Brown," which is what he nicknamed his gigantic Oldsmobile back in the day.)
Unlike most women who do crazy shit like this, The Brown wasn't an a-hole whom I'm glad to be rid of. Far from it! It was one of those situations where we were right for each other but the timing was wrong. Him: a soon-to-graduate college senior. Me: a freshman.
'nuff said.
We had some tiny, maybe inconsequential, but odd things in common: He was from a large Catholic family (just like me). He was the last boy and had one younger sister. I am the last girl and the next older is a brother (with the same first name as The Brown). We both suffered through winter birthdays as ours were almost exactly one month apart.
I'd guess you could use a Hollywood phrase and call him 'my one great love.'
Can you have a great love at 17? I don't know. Ask Romeo and Juliet.
But I digress...
Do you ever have those low periods in your life when you think back to better times? Times when you'd give anything to be back in those more innocent days? It's during those times that I remember this guy and how sweet he was to me.
No, I never pictured us married with kids or anything like that. I was very young at the time and had had very little dating experience, so this kind, gentle, caring guy was perfect for me. Maybe we would've crashed and burned if we stayed together. Who knows?
Still.
I'll admit that over the years, I've checked the school's alumni newsletter for his name (nope) or, more recently, even thrown a dart at Facebook. His (very common) name came up more than 500 times!
So the other night, while trying to squeeze a discount for a rental car from my university's alumni website, I got the crazy urge to look him up in the online alumni directory. Okay, it's been more than 20 years since we saw each other and I haven't even thought of him in at least a few years.
I located a listing for a guy with the same name, but he lives in California. Hmmn... I do remember The Brown getting a job in California not long after college.
What the hell! So I send an email with some pertinent facts about The Brown, just to see if this is indeed the same guy.
It's HIM!
I don't use Gmail, AOL, Yahoo or any of a hundred other providers for my personal email, I use Earthlink. God only knows how they stay in business because I don't know too many other people that use Earthlink.
Except The Brown.

AT&T battle, Round 2

AT&T billing time frame: January 11 to February 10. AT&T's total number of local calls: 29.

After last month's billing fiasco, I wasn't taking any chances. Beginning January 25 (the day an AT&T technician arrived at my high-rise building, spoke to me and then left without doing anything), I have started to list the calls made from my phone including the time, date, call recipient and length of call.

My time frame: January 25 to February 10. Total number of local calls: 5.

Hmmn? So, does anyone REALLY think I made 24 calls in 14 days considering my lack of home phone activity?

Yeah, me neither.

So I emailed AT&T to get another detailed call list. A very nice representative named Mamie responded within 24 hours and said she'd be happy to mail out a list of my calls...for a $3 charge.
Um, no, I don't think so. I very nicely explained the January billing issue and Mamie agreed to withdraw the extra charge.

Nice girl, that Mamie.

So, now I wait.

Taking on 'the man'

Anyone that knows me knows that I don't really back down from a fight. Hell, I've even been known to start them (not a word, Maple!). This one is pretty unusual though. Here's the deal:

I have AT&T as the carrier for my home phone. The home phone that I NEVER USE. Actually, I'm not really sure why I even have it. My mother is the only person who calls and leaves a message. The other callers are usually sales calls (I can tell because I have caller ID), so I don't pick it up and they don't leave messages.

Last week I received my AT&T bill and noticed that it showed that I made 72 local calls between December 10 and January 5. Since AT&T stopped sending out detailed invoices, I had to request one to find out just whom I was supposedly calling in those 72 calls.

Every single call was to the number I call to retrieve whatever messages have been recorded. Every single one! I don't know about you, but I only check for messages when that little light is on to tell me that a message exists. I'm not so obsessive-compulsive that I check every 15 minutes or so.

Yeah, tell that to AT&T! According to this invoice, I checked my messages 16 times on December 10th! Hmmn? The truly funny part is that 14 of those 16 calls where made while I was at work! So unless my houseplants have somehow been trained to dial a phone, those calls were not made from my house.

I also noticed that some of the calls overlap (a 2-minute call at 2:17pm and another one at 2:18 pm) but was told that since AT&T rounds up to the next minute, it is possible that I made back-to-back calls and they would seemingly overlap.

Does this sound fishy to you??? More importantly, does this sound like the beginnings of a class-action lawsuit?

Oh, by the way, a friend of mine in St. Louis just got a notice from AT&T that he could be eligible to benefit from a class-action lawsuit against AT&T for overcharging! Hmmnn?

Ghosts of Christmas past???

It's really weird when you wake up immediate following a dream and remember it all clearly.

My mom and dad were in the kitchen and my mom was making coffee...or at least trying to. Not so strange, right? Except my dad's been dead for more than 20 years and here was his ghost standing next to my mom. He is the age he was when he died (67) and my mom is her current age (82).

I said that my mom was trying to make coffee because she has a 10-cup Mr. Coffee brewer where you pour water into the top of the machine, press a button and voila! coffee is brewed. Except my mom was getting confused (that happens more and more lately since she's past 80 years old) and she forgot where to pour the water. She was pouring it into the coffee carafe and spilling it on the hotplate.

My dad put his arm around her and kissed her as if to say, "It's okay, we still love you."

I don't usually have dreams about my dad and I don't know if this means anything but it scared me. Not the way I wanted to wake up on Christmas Eve morning.

My two favorite Tiger Woods jokes

What's the difference between Tiger Woods and Santa Claus?

Santa stopped at three 'ho's'

- - - - - - - -

Did you hear that Tiger Woods is going to court to change his name from Tiger to Cheatah?


:-)))
I'll be here all night. Don't forget to tip your bartenders and waitresses!!

Home?

It's odd being home and not being at work. On one hand, it's great being in control of my time for a change. On the other hand, it's hard to decide what task to complete first.
So, of course, I took myself out to breakfast first.
Sitting at the IHOP drinking coffee and looking out the window at a cold and dreary Chicago day (and trying not to think of the hot sun that greets Sydneysiders at this time of year), I noticed a short apartment building a block or two away. What drew this building to my attention was not only the nice wooden trellis on the roof, but the flagpole next to it.
The rain and wind had wrapped the fabric around the pole until one moment when the wind shifted and the banner was released...an Australian flag!

Going back Up Over

SYDNEY, AU - - Finished packing and am waiting for the airport shuttle, once again bringing a close to my Australian holiday. As expected, depression is starting to set in. Mother Nature, however, is trying to push me on my way with a cool, overcast day. Thanks, mom!
Had a second long chat with Tour Guide last night. (VERY AFRAID of cell phone bill!) He wants to work and maybe live longterm in Canada. Doesn't know exactly where or what he will do for a living, but he wants to go there. Did I mention that he doesn't know anyone there, has never been there and knows almost nothing about the country?
I guess we all make uninformed decisions and then cling to them for dear life. Oh well, he'll learn...or maybe not. But it's not my problem.
Yep, he hasn't said anything about coming to visit me in Chicago and that's fine. Maybe we'll go back to being Facebook friends. Nothing more.
Again, that's fine.
Well, gotta get my luggage and meet the shuttle.

Sunday Night at the Observer Hotel

SYDNEY, AU - - And before you get all "oooh, dirty bits coming up," let me educate you a bit. In Australia, a hotel often is a tavern/pub that may or may not rent out rooms. The Observer Hotel was established in 1848 and I think they know what they're doing...or maybe not.
You know you're in for a special evening of entertainment when the singer/guitarist starts playing a song not because it's on his song list, but because the local guy in the corner started singing it. What song? "You Lost That Loving Feeling" by the Righteous Brothers. And yes, EVERYONE in the bar started singing along!
The next singalong was Frankie Valli's "You're Just too Good to be True."
Things got out of hand pretty quickly after that.
This being my second visit to the Observer in the past week, the bartender apparently recognized me asked me if I wanted a Toohey's New (beer). Refreshed with my cool beverage, I grabbed a seat in the corner of the bar where I could watch the proceedings in safety.
Did I mention that the singer put a piece of gum in his mouth between songs? I don't know if anyone else noticed that but I have NEVER seen a solo performer chew gum during songs.
I don't know if it was the gum or what, but our singer seemed to have a bit of trouble hitting the high notes during "Take on Me" by A-Ha. No worries! The crowd filled in for him.
There was a small TV on the wall near where the singer performed and during one of his songs, a few guy right in front looked up to see the New Zealand All Blacks rugby team doing its warm-ups. If you've never seen this event, you really should. Picture about 20 muscular blokes dressed all in black, beating their chests and chanting in a terribly menacing fashion. It's very primal and actually pretty scary and if I were their opponent, I'd be soiling my pants right now.
The singer looked up to watch, too.
Like I said, things were pretty loose at the Observer.
Just when things were getting somewhat mellow (he actually sang a few songs by Bread, if you know the band), he flew into "Faith" by George Michael. The crowd went bananas, jumping around and singing.
Do we have places like this in Chicago and if so, can someone please tell me where?

Aussie from the past

SYDNEY, AU - - Would anyone out there be surprised to hear that I got an email from Tour Guide about a month ago through Facebook? If you don't remember the situation, let me refresh: we stayed in touch after I left Australia via Skype, email, texts and the occasion phone call.
We seemed to get pretty close (if you consider being in daily contact getting close) and then he asked if I would ever consider leaving Chicago? This question was followed pretty quickly by the off-hand comment that he had recently gotten drunk and slept with a female friend of his!!!
Needless to say, we fell out of touch soon after that conversation. I even deleted his Facebook friendship.
Fast forward to a few weeks ago. He emailed me to let me know that he had taken a job in Tasmania (another state in Australia, one that's an island south of the mainland) and would be moving from Darwin to 'Tassie' in October and I would be welcome to visit him while I'm in Australia.
I was curious as to why he contacted me, so I texted him while I was in Port Douglas a few days ago. We arranged to have a direct phone call and spoke for over 2 hours!
Apparently, our 'falling out of touch' was his way of running away from me because he felt like he might've been getting too close to me and we both knew the situation was impossible. Instead of discussing it and agreeing that nothing could come of our 'relationship,' he re-directed his desire for me to this other woman and in the process, lost both women.
He invited me to come to Tasmania this weekend (pretty much now, as I'm writing this on Friday afternoon). I was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea, but an ocean provides a pretty good buffer from trouble, so I checked on flights just for the hell of it.
The travel gods must have felt it wasn't a good idea either because the flights were CRAZY expensive!!! Tour Guide even offered to pay my way back to Australia if I flew down to Tassie, but the cost was really too much and the flight times didn't make for a good plan anyway.
So where does this leave us?
I'll keep you posted.

Fashionistas Down Under

SYDNEY, AU - - Okay, I'm not one of them. And BOY! did I feel out of place shopping along Crown Street in Surry Hills (suburb of Sydney). You know you're in trouble when you don't have nice enough clothes to wear to GO SHOPPING for nice clothes!
Actually, I headed this way (about a mile southeast of the central business district) to seek out a restaurant called Spice I Am, a lovely little storefront Thai place that Rachel Ray mentioned on one of her travel shows.
I've never seen so much leg on one street! Apparently, the spring fashion in Sydney is to wear (essentially) a bag that just barely covers the ass and then either ankle boots or gladiator sandals with it. Fortunately, most of the girls wearing this style look good in it, but I think they might look a bit better with a dress that shows off their figure a bit more. Okay, sue me, I'm old!
Yes, I did end up helping the Australian economy (that's doing just fine, thank you!) with several purchases from little boutique shops and a few vintage stores. I LOVE vintage jewelry and purses! I even bought a baseball cap that's angora and lambswool. Fabulous!!
And I DID find the restaurant so it's time for an early dinner!

You take your entertainment, I'll take mine.

PORT DOUGLAS, AU - - Every time I try to read a book on my balcony, one of those rainbow lorikeets screeches past & reminds me that nothing in print could be as captivating as the show Mother Nature has set in front of me. A flash of red, yellow and green. There goes another one, careening from one coconut palm to the next.
Golden palms, foxtail palms, lipstick palms and fan palms...my buddy Wolfgang (former owner of the apartment building where I'm staying) taught me the names of these beauties.
The breeze creates a swooshing melody that's so soothing but at the same time competes for my attention with the insistent roar of the not-too-distance waves at 4 mile beach.
Who needs a book?

File under 'So You Think You're All That'

PORT DOUGLAS, AU - - In an effort to get some sun on my shoulders and even out the 'farmer's tan' I got in Sydney, I put on a tube top and went to sit on my 2nd floor balcony (although they call it first floor here). Anyway, I stood up to get a better view of my beautiful surroundings and leaned over to cross my arms on the railing.

Two young guys were walking past on the sidewalk across the street and they both looked over at me and smiled. Do I smile back? Wave? Before I could decide, they were gone.

And then another guy was getting into a taxi in front of my building and he looked up at me...a few times.

Hmm??? What's this about?

Then it hit me. From their position, at ground level, they probably couldn't tell whether or not I was wearing a top!!

Find the sun through the rain

PORT DOUGLAS, AU - - My tan development program will be postponed for one day, at least, as it is once again raining in PD. I've been here 5 days and it's rained for 2 of those day. (Of course, I've spent every MOMENT of the other three days on 4-mile beach, so I'm getting a bit brown).
The rain is funny here, though, as it seems more like a cleansing than anything else. It's a rainforest rain, very drenching but not in a freezing, angry, run-for-cover-type of way like at home. I don't mind at all getting caught in this rain.
This trip has been unusual for me, but I can't put my finger on how I feel about the differences in this year's excursion Down Under. I've always loved Port Douglas, but this year is definitely an out-of-sorts visit.
My friends sold the apartment complex where I'm staying, so I don't know anyone here except one of the housekeepers. My friends moved a few hours' drive away, so I don't really expect to see them at all. And there are a TON of families with small children in town this time (small, crying, fussing, interrupt-your-quiet-dinner little ankle-biters).
Did I mention it's rained a lot here this time???
There's even a chance I won't be able to go snorkeling on my birthday because of the high winds. Guess I never really appreciated the opportunities I've had in the past to spend my birthday on the Great Barrier Reef. I'm crossing my fingers that last year won't have been my last chance.
Okay MJ, enough bitching. I am determined to snap out of it and count my blessings that I can afford (???) to treat myself to what for many people would be a once-in-a-lifetime trip. (I've been here EIGHT TIMES!!! somebody slap me!)
Rain or no rain, screaming children or not...I WILL find the joy in this, possibly my last, trip to Australia.