Gramma Dorothy's Hair

When Dad was in college at U Michigan, he would visit his father and step-mother, Dorothy in New Jersey when he was on breaks from school.
During one visit, Dorothy was home to greet Dad with a new hairdo. She had her hair colored red. She couldn't wait for her husband to come home from work so she could show him her new do.
When granddad arrived home, he came into the kitchen where Dorothy and Dad were standing chatting. He looked around curiously, fuddled with the mail, looked around again with a bit of confusion, and left the room. He then came right back and said, "Hey, what's going on here?"
"How do you like my hair, Bill?" Dorothy clarified by asking.
"Oh my god I hate it!"

Dogs

Heee got more than meeeee.

Sitting pretty for their post dinner treat.

The Maul and the Green Scarf

Looking for an H&M store in the local mall the other day, I was taken by the desperateness of the sales clerks. Specifically the ones in the kiosks. One woman asked my if my hair was real and that her product could "fix" it. "Fix" it? I know I just colored my hair red, and perhaps my friends here are too nice to tell me if my hair looks like crap, but as far as I know, it looks fine. It doesn't need fixing.

The kiosk girl tried and tried to get me to come sit down so she could run my hair through her electrified Inspector Gadget hair straightener. When I walked past her a second time sometime later, she said to me again, "Can I ask you a question?"

"You already did before." I said to her int he kindest tone possible as I kept walking.

"I know, but..." she pleaded.

I few days ago I paid two dollars for a nice green GAP scarf at the Salvation Army. I wore it in the mall and twice, there were kiosk people who tried compliments to reel me in, "Hey, that's a nice scarf!" one guy said to me, then another later on, "That scarf looks warm!"

Lame.

The second guy was actually hollering after me well after I had passed by his kiosk.

It was actually very creepy. Annoying too, but creepy. I felt like I was being heckled by construction workers. I felt like a child trying to avoid neighborhood perverts. There was a bit of "Hey little girl, I have a piece of candy for you!" about it all.

I don't want your nail cream and I'm not helping you find your puppy.
The place should really be called The Maul.

Documentary - Beyond Belief

Go rent it. Now.

Bored and Blue

Today I am feeling a level of blah. Being diabetic is annoying me. My sugars have been quite high for the past few months and anyone who is diabetic...not many of you...can relate to my feeling of self-loathing. 'Must focus on brushing it off and remembering that tomorrow is a new day.

Today, I raked leaves. A lot of them, as you can see (this is pre-raked). The culprit is our massive double trunked tulip tree. Now I am desperate for them to be removed so I can complete the effort to get a feeling of accomplishment.I also got my flu shot today thanks to my neighbor, Ada who called to let me know there was a free clinic in town today. By the way, Wakefield is the quintessential busy New England town. There is more going on downtown here in this suburb that there was in the middle of the day in West Palm Beach's downtown area. Granted, the main street in WPB was wall-to-wall clubs and rapidly turning-over restaurants, but still. This past Saturday, when Dad and I passed through on our way somewhere, there was a small pack of high schoolers playing on up-turned buckets to raise money for the WHS music department. Dad of course pulled over to give them some money.

When I was a kid, I had auburn colored hair which leaned towards red. Now, the auburn hair leans towards brown and I have been missing the red for a long time. So, the other day, I decided to dye my hair (it doesn't really show much in this picture, does it?). It's a bit strange though. When I got compliments on my hair, people always wondered if I dyed it. I never had, and now, I feel like a bit of a poser. As though I should tell everyone I make eye contact with, “I know...it's dyed now. It didn't used to be but, you see, I missed the red and so I put some in. I just don't want you to think I'm one of those people who doesn't want people to know I dye my hair even though it's probably obvious, you know? Like, I'm not trying to come across as a real red head...even though I was one. Once.”

The dye I used wasn't much really, and it came out fine. In fact, I feel like it's even faded a bit since I put it in just the other day.

My roommates, Mom and Dad, are gone right now, and I have been in charge of the doggies. If Bootsie had opposable thumbs, I think she would have burned down the house by now. Really, she's not so bad, she's just so busy and into everything. She's kind of a text book juvenile delinquent. When you're not in the room, she is completely silent. Sitting on the floor or in her crate, she seems perfectly content. But, as soon as there is someone around to impress, she's all over the place! I don't know what got into her last night but she took off from one side of the room, charged around the desk in the middle of the room turned on a dime at the other side of the room and did it again. Turn, run, repeat. Over and over, while grunting.

Meanwhile, Oliver has been quite content with the new tradition of getting up into my lap and falling asleep immediately like one of the two old men in The Muppet Show balcony. After being drugged. Last night he actually fell asleep with his head on my shoulder.

Dogsitting

I bought Bootsie a new toy today in hopes of giving her something to do other than sniff me incessantly. Since she's skiddish about everything, there was a bit of adjustment time.

Investigating the new toy. Even Oliver is curious.


Getting closer.

And...friends.

All Alone

My parents went to Europe and all I got was a spaztic puppy to look after.

It started with an elementary school reunion for my dad in Switzerland, where he attended school. Then, the trip expanded to include a visit to Prague, which it very cool I think. I dropped my parents off at the airport and immediately got on the phone to start the My parents are out of town so let's have a kegger phone tree. Just kidding.

The dogs are a handful and I dislike very much that I am raising my voice so regularly to say things like, "Bootsie, get your head out of the trash!" and "Don't you dare squat there!" and "That was an antique!"

Again, I exaggerate, but still. It's constant. I am determined however, to break her of her jumping habit and her head in the trash (again) habit by the time my parents return. I love my parents, but it appears to me that they think her jumping up on them is cute. It won't be cute anymore when she jumps up on some kid and accidentally bites their face off because she mistook them for beef jerky.

Last night Oliver was disinterested in dinner, so I put his dish up on the counter so I could feed Bootsie. In the morning, Oliver's dish, which was still on the counter, was empty. I will take this moment to mention that Oliver is not tall enough to do that and our house mice are not that skilled. They tend to prefer the left-out butter. It's better for their coat.

This morning, when I took the two out in the yard to "spend a penny", Bootsie got a bit distracted by the activity in the neighbors' yard. They had hired people to come pull out some trees with some massive trucks. I looked behind me to see what had stopped Bootsie (Oliver off a leash, Bootsie is on one), and I saw her standing shoulder to shoulder with Oliver. Who was trying to poop.

I encouraged Bootsie to move it along and do her thing, but since she's a bit of a bumbling puppy, she plowed into and knocked over Oliver who was mid-poop.

Nice bathroom manners.

That's Just Funny

Have I Mentioned?

Have I mentioned how much I love our soon-to-be President? I do. I really do. I love that he read all the Harry Potter's with his daughter. I love that he wants a shelter dog, "A mutt, like me" he said in a press conference the other day. I love that there was a press conference in which a major topic of discussion was what kind of dog they will be getting in the White House. I also love that in an interview he talked about reminding his daughters about the cold weather in DC. Who will walk the dog when it gets cold out?

Um, you live in the White House. I don't think you have to walk the dog in the dead of winter. But, again, that's why I love him - it appears that the fact that he has all the dog-walker hiring power in the world, it doesn't occur to him. Or, he's hip enough to keep a hold on the importance of responsibility, even when it comes to freezing your ass off walking to dog..

I was chatting with my friend and quasi-sister Jen today. We talked about our experiences on election day and I was charmed by her story. She had gone to the poling booths with her daughter, seven year old Lilly (she's the cutie modeling the shirt at right for my etsy site) and at the polling place, there was a booth for kids to vote in. Not for real of course, and the ballot was simplified (good thing, "How did you vote on the legalization of marijuana, my seven year old High School Musical fan with pink sneakers and a collection of Pet Shop animals at home?").

"It was cute though," Jen told me, "I could hear her mumbling to herself in the booth, going down the list....'OhhhhBaaahMaaah...demmmmocrrrraaaat' - because she didn't know who the other people were - 'demmmmocrrrraaaat...demmmmocrrrraaaat'"

She was very proud. And Lilly got a bookmark and a pencil. I wish I got a bookmark and a pencil when I voted.

More from Chicago

As you can guess from my November masthead and the previous blog entry, I am just back from a whirlwind trip to Chicago.

It is chilly and wet in MA today, but the country is a new place, somehow.

Shannon and I had a most fabulous time in our less-than-48-hour visit in the windy (but oddly warm) city. I am completely exhausted.

Little Suzy on the left is about to eat mulch. This was outside Navy Pier, which was a disappointment, due to it virtually being closed.

We had to play with the Lego man in the Nordstroms building.

We stumbled on the Chicago Nature Conservatory while trying to find the green market.


Definitely my favorite, aside form the new President-elect; The Orb (or, as the Chicagoans refer to it - the Bean).



The view from lunch on our first day. The top of the Hancock Building.

Obama! Obama! Obama!

I woke this morning in the Best Western Hotel in Chicago, across the street from Grant Park, and I felt a huge appreciation for my fellow American citizens. When Barak Obama beat out Hillary for the democratic candidate I thought for sure it was over. I just couldn't imagine that the people of this country, with all their prejudices and unwavering opinions would vote for a black president. I have never been more happy to be wrong!

Listening to him speak, at rallies on TV or during debates, I loved his calm demeanor, his seemingly inability to get rattled. I loved his “concepts”; that parents should stop blaming their child's teacher for their child's failing and turn off the TV, put away the video games, and read to their child. Accountability. He hoped that when he was elected, he could develop a program where college tuition would be paid in exchange for volunteer work or military service.

These are the kind of ideas that one would throw across the table during a chat over pasta with friends at a corner restaurant. Couldn't we do that? I mean, why not? And this man has actually stated them out loud. Not only is he a man with ideas and what I believe is the gumption to make them happen, but he's also a bit of an un-politician. Which I find funny considering how dreadfully hard Palin worked to be a non-politician. I dig it.

I also woke this morning eternally grateful to my friend, Shannon, for inviting me to meet her in Chicago, and attend what is now a historic rally at Grant Park.

Last night, Shannon and I joined my college friend Colleen and her husband, Dan in a line that ran at least seven blocks down Michigan Avenue. It took two hours and two security checks to get into Grant Park. But the weather was balmy and we enjoyed chatting with the people in front and in back of us in line. After an hour and a half, we became a bit of a clan. We would celebrate together when one of us would get off their cellphone after talking with a friend who was somewhere with a TV, updating us as the counts came in, “He just took Ohio!”. Shannon and I were especially floored and impressed by that one...until he won Florida.

By the time we got in, we were really far back in the crowd and watched the events unfold on a jumbotron. I was a surprised and a bit disappointed at how unemotional the people around me were. Somehow, I thought the place would be a weeping mess. But, no, I think the weepers were in line way before us, so they could be right in front of the stage when Obama took to it.

As the crowds made their way out of the park and into the streets of Chicago, the celebration continued. A group of twenty-somethings were wandering down the street, with one of them, a guy with a crooked hat on and some tacky Obama shirt running up to random people, “You made it happen! I made it happen! We all did it! We all did it together!”

Colleen checks-in with friends while waiting in-line to get into Grant Park.

The fraction of the line along Michigan Avenue.


Obama is announced as the next President of the United States!

More celebrating.

Listening to Obama speak.

Boston Parents Paper

I have an ad on boston.parenthood.com! Very exciting. Right now it's linking to the wrong webpage, but hopefully, that will change.

November Masthead