tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31477323039640032032024-02-07T20:06:32.378-06:00I've Been To MeNot Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.comBlogger164125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-87051851231516610722015-02-16T08:40:00.005-06:002015-02-16T08:40:50.297-06:005 Years OnBlogs are dead. This thing called blogger might be as much a wasteland as Google+. I don't really know. Five years ago, I was already late to the concept of blog-as-personal-diary. Five years ago, I was a little down, I had my first, shiny, new MacBook and I decided to publish a lame diary. I tied it to Lent and, once I went back yesterday to read my initial entries, I remembered I had danced as my Lenten observation. Totally forgot the dancing.<br />
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Five years on, I have my second, shiny, new MacBook. I'm feeling vague, ineffective and overwhelmed. Cycling and recycling.<br />
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Today is Presidents' Day and I'm off from work (sorta). I decided to go to an old coffee shop haunt of mine, as a treat, and tap out some lines on this NEW laptop. The last time I hung out at this place, I was writing copy for a decorating/gift catalog and this was my office. Now, I'm a teacher/principal/business operator. Instead of this place being my office, it's an escape from my real work, my treat to myself.<br />
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Considering I forgot already what I put out there five years ago, and considering <a href="http://www.pcworld.com/article/2884572/vint-cerf-worries-about-a-digital-dark-age-and-your-data-could-be-at-risk.html" target="_blank">this guy</a> says none of it will last long into the future, the point is only in the doing. I'm doing for today.<br />
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<br />Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-34492752294302032632015-02-15T15:42:00.000-06:002015-02-15T15:42:10.360-06:00Thanks for the memoriesI can't remember why Lent, of all things, motivated me to begin blogging in the ancient days of 2010. Perhaps if I <a href="http://ivebeentome.blogspot.com/2010/02/because-its-tuesday.html" target="_blank">read myself</a>, I wouldn't have to try to remember. Lent starts Wednesday. I might be in the mood to write again. If I remember to follow through on this idea on Wednesday, I will go for 40 days.<br />
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And just as I was about to insert the disclaimer that I am not religious, etc, etc, I have to go right now and wash dog slobber off the front door. The minister and her family are coming for dinner.<br />
<br />Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-74001504144881884792012-04-11T13:29:00.002-05:002012-04-11T15:53:43.848-05:00I get a peaceful, easy thinkingDo you know what I find so boring to read about? Exercise. Do you know the only thing I want to blog about these days? Exercise. Do you hate rhetorical questions? Exercise. It's the answer to everything.<br />
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I've been thinking a whole lot about working out. Thinking about working out is the easiest kind of thinking. It's so simple to think about what is on the plan for tomorrow or what I accomplished today or last week or last year. I can think about how noble and awesome I am for making my goals or I can chastise myself for not. So easy.<br />
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I know when I spend a lot of time focused on one thing, especially one easy thing, it's because I'm avoiding something else. Right now, I need to do some hard thinking, and doing, with regard to my next career move. I am supposed to (but don't) write fiction every week for my writers' group - getting my mind in that mode is way harder than thinking about exercise. If I focus on running, I don't have to think about politics or morality, finances or family. It's a non-threatening topic and requires no real analysis or mental effort.<br />
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Working out is physically difficult for many people and finding motivation is an even more common problem. But, everyone can think about exercise, whether they do it or not. Forget all your cares, people, forget struggling with big philosophical issues - just think about exercise. Don't talk about it, though. It bores the shit out of everyone around you.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-37620952374763019162012-04-09T21:51:00.000-05:002012-04-09T21:51:38.892-05:00Working It Out<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NYzt1rEBx5Y" width="420"></iframe><br />
Oh, the halcyon days when exercise was fun and easy. I'm kidding! Exercise was never fun nor easy for me but I do remember doing jumping jacks to this song. (Good old Wonderama!)<br />
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With the long slog through middle age, exercise has gotten more urgent and necessary - and complicated and sweaty and techie.<br />
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Last October, I ran the Odessa Crossroads Marathon in majestic West Texas. A couple of weeks ago I signed up to do the October 2012 Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, DC. Races in October are lovely but the long training runs throughout a balmy Texas summer is a whipping. (Bring it.)(Okay, I find myself saying things like Bring It so perhaps I'm having a little fun.)<br />
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Speaking of balmy, I have added a second exercise to my routine: hot yoga. I brought my friend Katherine with me last week and she wrote about it on <a href="http://katballou.wordpress.com/2012/04/06/day-19-30-days-30-ways/" target="_blank">her blog</a>. So, sweat, yeah. Sweating is my thing, I guess.<br />
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And now that I am a freaking WORKOUT QUEEN, I simply cannot keep track of all my feats of speed, endurance and flexibility without some social media-generated positive reinforcement. I'm tracking my feats on <a href="http://www.fitocracy.com/home/" target="_blank">Fitocracy</a>. I don't so much care about the social part but I like keeping a record.<br />
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If you don't hear from me tomorrow, it's because I'll be agonizing over my training schedule to take me through the next seven months. It's agony for me only because I've never planned anything lasting seven or more months, other than two of my three pregnancies.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-12477176848009490512012-04-05T09:15:00.002-05:002012-04-09T20:30:38.105-05:00A New Year<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Kept thinking I'd write something again. Maybe start on my birthday... New Year's Day? Start again at the beginning of Lent? Sure. Now here I am at the end of Lent and I'm finally weaseling my way back onto the internets.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Why now? Something about this time of year is unsettling for me. Not in a bad way. I'd always thought the back-to-school season was my true new year what with all the transition and new lunch boxes. But spring is proving to be my turning-over-new-leaf-time and well, duh. It is spring after all.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">It doesn't feel all funky fresh like I think spring should, though. It is unsettling, this time of growth and change. I mean, spring cleaning is no picnic and picnics are the most over-rated form of eating out EVER. The pastel clothing makes no sense and I'm all clogs or sandals? So, I'm here, not at a neat, tidy moment, bringing my clean slate to the table. I'll unsettle myself and shake out the cobwebs and maybe by summertime I'll be shiny and new.</div>Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-40231571493576351412010-09-29T14:00:00.000-05:002010-09-29T14:00:30.147-05:00How Does This Thing Work Again?I don't have a lot of tenacity, but<a href="http://ivebeentome.blogspot.com/2010/06/ive-been-slacking.html"> I can lie to you for 75 straight days!</a>Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-52888699100785237922010-07-15T17:52:00.000-05:002010-07-15T17:52:43.055-05:00Shelf ControlRemember<a href="http://ivebeentome.blogspot.com/2010/06/boondoggle-alert.html"> the hole we knocked into the wall</a> to access space under our stairs? The remnants of the vintage poster are still mostly intact. Doesn't she look pretty all tarted up with party lights?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRXpxCcTlIPtpE1AhmOPPhYj5C2z_gjZosD2dwSoWe9YkHgutftx3uET9jxKk_h6oSPbXHPzIScAS6BW555-WiOSkNkWlBHiYwpIuyf_1hcSmNd9JiEqgipSK1zAXSIjiswdhVviyI2rIj/s1600/IMG_2438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRXpxCcTlIPtpE1AhmOPPhYj5C2z_gjZosD2dwSoWe9YkHgutftx3uET9jxKk_h6oSPbXHPzIScAS6BW555-WiOSkNkWlBHiYwpIuyf_1hcSmNd9JiEqgipSK1zAXSIjiswdhVviyI2rIj/s320/IMG_2438.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Uh oh, I think someone is trying to kick us out from the little under-the-stairs room.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi282KtLInZD0N5KNBH__Z6RQr9ocqnJP3FM2mJqGS92pix9L-qibtmstjS0MGzzuwtlRkvaFvMRNAZzMlUdqQ4dehAwGStmuYoskIePFaN-JyICfcr4PNnHV-T-KXFROARhegBHyzSMisW/s1600/IMG_2435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi282KtLInZD0N5KNBH__Z6RQr9ocqnJP3FM2mJqGS92pix9L-qibtmstjS0MGzzuwtlRkvaFvMRNAZzMlUdqQ4dehAwGStmuYoskIePFaN-JyICfcr4PNnHV-T-KXFROARhegBHyzSMisW/s320/IMG_2435.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hey, wait, is that a door?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhb2KQ6BE8MZoGCiL38f5_LV2Dluk3McMYP6dDm1yN-mYTTarQKsgGjc-53DWYqhSodyn4jETk8f-Yt6g3fce29QkuZHpZOGW2MPzX9ULC-9dg4sE40JurNrWBKvq_2WdpDf179d_zBtGl/s1600/IMG_2433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhb2KQ6BE8MZoGCiL38f5_LV2Dluk3McMYP6dDm1yN-mYTTarQKsgGjc-53DWYqhSodyn4jETk8f-Yt6g3fce29QkuZHpZOGW2MPzX9ULC-9dg4sE40JurNrWBKvq_2WdpDf179d_zBtGl/s320/IMG_2433.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Where'd she go?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn2PMrfALQ2A0vWxmYIarC9tJBUxhZ687SbJ8XCKuUdgWTkfqNw9pGE2FskXRSlN7TSgxh6BJ86W91SaJHsSM57OIrBVpLJp4sXhswTmdppNIlEO485hjMb_aP_aCIiLWXpBl-jH8lTg8h/s1600/IMG_2432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn2PMrfALQ2A0vWxmYIarC9tJBUxhZ687SbJ8XCKuUdgWTkfqNw9pGE2FskXRSlN7TSgxh6BJ86W91SaJHsSM57OIrBVpLJp4sXhswTmdppNIlEO485hjMb_aP_aCIiLWXpBl-jH8lTg8h/s320/IMG_2432.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They'll never find us now. (Especially since "they" don't read this blog.) </div>Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-34901375277845746432010-07-13T21:17:00.001-05:002010-07-13T21:18:17.869-05:002 fun 2 B 4 realDentists ask the strangest questions. I have been asked whether I am or ever was bulimic (no), do I eat lemons (sort of) and today, I was asked if I've ever been in the military. I have army-style fillings, apparently. Tomorrow, I return to the dental chair for a two hour, two crown, 2K appointment. Luckily, the office features calendar pictures of baby animals thumb-tacked to the ceiling for my viewing enjoyment. So, a reclining chair, drugs and baby orangutans - in some other context, could be worth the 2K.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-86330666017379485742010-07-10T23:15:00.000-05:002010-07-10T23:15:29.729-05:00Am I A Runner?I went running this morning on a popular Town Lake path here in Austin. Just like in Dallas, everyone passes me and I pass no one. Not one person. I realize it's not a race, but if I'm running, shouldn't I be faster than one other human? How can I tell if I'm running? Maybe I'm walking - like those people who believe they're dancing when on-lookers know they are not dancing. I spotted a woman on the path ahead of me who had a 3 year old in a tutu running beside her and a miniature poodle on a leash. I can take this group, I thought. And I did. They took a water break and I burned past them. I probably kicked up gravel behind me and into that kid's face I was trucking so fast. Then an elderly couple strode past with their walking sticks and I got the hell over myself.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-60554756838958106522010-07-09T23:07:00.000-05:002010-07-09T23:07:06.103-05:00Austin, TX. Salut!Here I am in Austin. My weekend of solitude has begun. It's odd to be alone. I think I like it, I often crave it but it takes some working out the kinks, some stretching of those "I'm okay" muscles. I have tweeted, texted and posted pictures to facebook so I'm not sure how solitary that is. I didn't bring my laptop so I'm typing on the phone with a 3G slow ass connection. I had a wonderful day and was about to go to sleep when I remembered I need to take out my contacts and blog. I did all the things I wanted to do - veggie food, LBJ love and vintage shopping. Barton Springs swimming may not happen but the motel pool is delightful, so there's that. I don't know if I'll see any Tour de France. I haven't turned on the TV yet but my guess is they don't have the Versus channel...tiny screen, dry contact lenses, fading out...Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-28360463352501422672010-07-08T22:35:00.000-05:002010-07-08T22:35:42.976-05:00A Kinda Wet Day- Running with a full bladder is kinda uncomfortable. Remember to pee before you go out for a jog.<br />
- Running in the rain wearing glasses is kinda hard if said glasses don't have tiny windshield wipers.<br />
- Mowing the lawn at noon is kinda insane until a sweet child appears on the deck with a glass of ice water. Then it's way fun.<br />
- Needing to take two showers in one day is bullshit - or kinda bad planning.<br />
- Forgetting about an appointment until just minutes before means running into a fancy schmancy North Dallas dentist office with hair still wet from one of two daily showers. Kinda uncouth.<br />
- Getting caught in the rain while shopping is kinda worth it if you're at a groovy outdoor shopping center instead of a mall.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-35054396947960377092010-07-07T22:16:00.000-05:002010-07-07T22:16:53.207-05:00Cooking With GasI recently mentioned my desire to recapture my will to cook. We eat out way too often and I go to the grocery store everyday, at the last minute, with no list, in search of the next meal. Today, I went to the store at the last minute BUT I had a list and a plan this time.<br />
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On the <i>To Sir With Love</i> night, when I went out to dinner during intermission, my soup was a carrot puree with a balsamic accent. The whole family sampled it and loved it. I replicated that dish tonight (yum, balsamic reduction) and got raves all around. Raves for carrots. Go figure. Carrot Puree with Balsamic is the second recipe I ever made up myself (or sort of ripped off). My only other recipe is for black beans. I'm on pace to publish a cookbook in another 67 years.<br />
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Since I started my vegan venture, I feel like my food choices are expanding rather than becoming more restrictive. I'm looking around for delicious options and new ideas and I've rarely been disappointed. I know, I know, talking about healthy eating is dull. I'll just add that I have a sense of well-being since changing my diet and it makes sense. As we learned while parenting babies and toddlers: if they're pooping and they're sleeping, they're happy. (I'm a chick, so I don't actually poop at all and I don't care to discuss it. I don't know why you brought it up. And when I say cooking with gas, I'm not referring to farting at all - chicks don't fart, not even vegan chicks. Just drop it. This is juvenile.)Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-12192961024663233632010-07-07T09:47:00.000-05:002010-07-07T09:47:41.045-05:00We Are The (spray painted) WorldMy long awaited movie is still in post production. It is not as good as this history of the world, which has completely distracted me from Tour de France coverage this morning. Don't worry that it's almost 10 minutes long - you won't notice the time. Great art is great art (and it's great fun, too, up until the end when it gets depressing).<br />
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<object width="400" height="300"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=13085676&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=13085676&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/13085676">BIG BANG BIG BOOM - the new wall-painted animation by BLU</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/blu">blu</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br />
Hat tip to Miss Cathy.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-44280854796731991312010-07-06T23:06:00.000-05:002010-07-06T23:06:44.357-05:00But what I really want to do is direct.I want to read but I still can't get through most books I start. (RIP, <i>The Witches of Eastwick</i>.) (Damn you, ADD-inducing internet!) I was finally convinced to try <i><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/14/books/review/Berenson-t.html">The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo</a></i> by Stieg Larsson. It's sitting on the bedside table, unopened. I also want to run. Running in Texas means waking at 5:30 to beat the sun. (I'm not faster than the wind, but I can outsmart the sun.) Staying up late to blog or read - my two late night activities - and getting up at 5:30 do not mesh well. (Basically, I cannot do more than one thing per day. How do you people do it?)<br />
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I'm going to give the tattoo book a chance this weekend. I'm heading to Austin on a solo journey. I might not even take my laptop (!). I hope to explore vegetarian restaurants, vintage stores and the LBJ Presidential Library. (It's a lifetime/geek goal of mine to visit all the presidential libraries, but I haven't begun - LBJ is up first.) I'll probably swim at <a href="http://www.ci.austin.tx.us/parks/bartonsprings.htm">Barton Springs</a>. I don't really know what else I'll do...I'm looking forward to letting it unfold.<br />
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Meanwhile, my beloved 14-year-old left today for three weeks. She's off to British Columbia with our friends. I don't know yet how the balance of power will change around here without her. (Waah! What will I do without her?)<br />
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In further news, I watched this little viral movie today:<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FL7yD-0pqZg&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FL7yD-0pqZg&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
I immediately went over to <a href="http://www.xtranormal.com/">xtranormal</a> and made a movie of my own. I'm a writer/director! I was hoping to share my 3 minute masterpiece with you, but I haven't yet figured out how to get the thing from their site to here. (Now I know how those Sundance directors feel when they can't get a distributor.)Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-56123254407416703352010-07-05T23:07:00.000-05:002010-07-05T23:07:52.228-05:00Independence Day 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wv_0Xll_9hijrH9rFGKNxVSDgMGLKo-rfV8NtLKomBIm7IJI6QcYENlNK7Sli-PdfPB-o1J9wKRcAh5uPRyEx75xYvvSuJSxJ6K7RJRClgs8PbMG9vcNnJ898heiYJMGeq0h3ZdCxWnz/s1600/IMG_2358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wv_0Xll_9hijrH9rFGKNxVSDgMGLKo-rfV8NtLKomBIm7IJI6QcYENlNK7Sli-PdfPB-o1J9wKRcAh5uPRyEx75xYvvSuJSxJ6K7RJRClgs8PbMG9vcNnJ898heiYJMGeq0h3ZdCxWnz/s320/IMG_2358.jpg" /></a></div>Three-day weekend coming to a close. We paraded, pool-sided, grilled fooded and fireworked ourselves into a patriotic fervor. Eventually, however, the time comes to sweep up the confetti and get back to business.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-45915433146463214042010-07-05T00:11:00.000-05:002010-07-05T00:11:35.359-05:00Independence Day 2It's been a lovely, long weekend and it's not over yet. The 4th of July is 72 hours long this year. This means I have another 24 hours to make it up to the blogogods for my skimpy posts these past two days. Pray for me.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-76306388875754168312010-07-03T22:14:00.000-05:002010-07-03T22:14:35.131-05:00Independence Day 1Typing a big Happy 4th of July greeting from my iPhone.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-40261289618345402732010-07-02T22:30:00.000-05:002010-07-02T22:30:18.852-05:00I Love My GynecologistIn my <a href="http://ivebeentome.blogspot.com/2010/05/open-letter-to-doctors.html">Open Letter To Doctors</a>, I complained about being required to strip nude in the office while having no decent place to keep the doffed clothes. Today I went to my ob/gyn for an annual visit. It was pouring rain on the drive to the office. I reached the exam room with my wet jacket and I was able to do this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnyDlznExRjxvuDOxHvmaVJIvGqfXxy_s8AsjLihtmU9oiiG5z_UIZstjMIDuT-DChufYJExO79G0ePgV_uXG2G3N97Cq-4-woG43l7LpSQbdJhee-Cb_FY-U8_vu07hI0RIsqmKD1g_r4/s1600/IMG_2331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnyDlznExRjxvuDOxHvmaVJIvGqfXxy_s8AsjLihtmU9oiiG5z_UIZstjMIDuT-DChufYJExO79G0ePgV_uXG2G3N97Cq-4-woG43l7LpSQbdJhee-Cb_FY-U8_vu07hI0RIsqmKD1g_r4/s320/IMG_2331.jpg" /></a></div>So civilized. I have been with my ob/gyn for 19 years. She delivered all my children. She understands.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-10786787446264273482010-07-01T23:37:00.000-05:002010-07-01T23:37:55.143-05:00Why didn't I think of it?I found <a href="http://catalogliving.tumblr.com/">this blog</a> today, via Andrew Sullivan. It appeals to me as a decorating magazine junkie, as a person who writes copy for a fancy home decor catalog and as someone who has watched photographers and stylists setting up the shots for said catalog.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRELdf4c7FzhvPgBX9Lx00eBGBBuZKxgIIibu9i78biGRmqFmgvZL12uwzEAvQsIIWvxXufq7ic3QXsvNWXGuETm2yWIPBtqazJmbS_qD3-ebj7C3fBjI0rY9BWwN9yH_qZP_UzXxrqNAQ/s320/tumblr_l4jke3U9PI1qbp9v2.jpg" /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'helvetica neue', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f4cccc;">Elaine was not amused by Gary’s passive-aggressive response to her request to “garnish the cocktails.”</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'helvetica neue', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span>Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-58582121817050925902010-06-30T23:11:00.000-05:002010-06-30T23:11:04.490-05:00Sidney, soup, SidneyOh, how I love Sidney Poitier. I watched <i>To Sir With Love</i> twice tonight - kind of an odd double feature. C. Louise walked in after I'd made it 3/4 of the way through the first time and said she'd like to see it from the beginning, so we started over. (Oh, but between viewings, we went out to dinner because how could I cook when I was so busy watching Sir? Dinner out was also C. Louise's idea - she's a smart kid. I had a delicious carrot soup and a salad, then back to Sir.) Because C. Louise appreciated the film, I must push her past the point of caring by showing a Sidney Poitier film festival. I considered<i> Guess Who's Coming to Dinner</i>, <i>In the Heat of the Night</i> and <i>Lilies of the Field</i> as our next film, but then I remembered how much I love <i>Patch of Blue</i>. I haven't seen it in decades and it still scares me. Shelley Winters plays a vile creature. Sidney is heroic, as always. The girl is blind, stringing beads and always lost in the park. Oh, melodrama. If I recommend the film, C. Louise won't watch it. So, I'll just start watching it myself, then C. Louise can interrupt and be like, "hey, wait, why can't I watch that?" and then we can pause it, go out for soup, then start it from the beginning and our Sidney Poitier ritual will be established.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-14591375483815414192010-06-29T14:04:00.000-05:002010-06-29T14:04:33.371-05:00Impossible!<a href="http://www.time.com/time/specials/packages/0,28757,1999770,00.html">Not Stacy is Not Amused to Not Make Time's List.</a>Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-27999114938230889842010-06-28T23:06:00.001-05:002010-06-28T23:08:04.717-05:00No Matter Your InstrumentI mentioned <a href="http://ivebeentome.blogspot.com/2010/06/bears-for-bolton.html">Michael Bolton</a> two days ago and that fella has been a spark. I had my hair cut and colored today and except that I am still bald on top, Michael and I no longer sport the same 'do. MB also sparked an exploration into the cheesiest of cheesy songs by The Mike, which reminded me of my second favorite Dave Chappelle skit. Watch, laugh, keep dancing and enjoy what I consider to be the cheesiest of songs in the final scene. (Not Sarah Farrah will appreciate the cameo by ?uestlove.)<br />
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<a href="http://vimeo.com/8213736">John Mayer skit</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2811169">Tom</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-63159881119012295872010-06-27T22:58:00.002-05:002010-06-27T23:00:33.704-05:00Future internet sensation!As a parent, I always know exactly what other parents should do with/about/to their kids. When I hear another mom talking about her parenting challenges, I know the solution. But I don't always know what to do with regard to my own children.<br />
<br />
My revolutionary (or rip-off) social media idea is a site called Other People's Children*. What I'm imagining is a Chat Roulette for parenting. You know Chat Roulette, right? You log in and video chat with random, anonymous people and when you are bored or disgusted with the conversation (or the visual), you hit next and move onto the next random person. Other People's Children will combine the lurid appeal of anonymous chatting with our universal desire to espouse our personal philosophies to other parents.<br />
<br />
Here are a few sample conversations:<br />
<br />
Mammoo: My little Proton is 2 and won't stay in her own bed.<br />
Chat 1: I spank my kids when..{next}<br />
Mammoo: Little Proton won't stay in her bed.<br />
Chat 2: We have a family bed and all 9 of us pile into...{next}<br />
Mammoo: Little Proton won't stay in her bed.<br />
Chat 3: Some bourbon at dinner calms my kids down...{next}<br />
Mammoo: Little Proton won't stay in her bed.<br />
Chat 4: I let the dogs chase my boy Trump until he's too tired to ...{next}<br />
Mammoo: Little Proton won't stay in her bed.<br />
Chat 5: You're a great Mom and whatever you're doing is great!<br />
Mammoo: Well, thank goodness! Thank you for your wisdom. What parenting issue can I help you with?<br />
Chat 5: When should I let my son start dating, I mean, officially? He's 13 and has a little crush on my friend and she said she'd take him out, you know, just for shits and giggles. It's sweet that she gave him some Axe body spray and, so ...{disconnect}<br />
Chat 5: Where'd you go?<br />
-------<br />
Helimomsha: I'm at my wits' end with Arbuckle. He's getting in trouble at school.<br />
Chat 1: I saw on Oprah...{next}<br />
Helimomsha: Arbuckle's getting in trouble at school.<br />
Chat 2: We're homeschooling and...{next}<br />
Helimomsha: Arbuckle's getting in trouble at school.<br />
Chat 3: At my daughter Rigid's private school, we believe if you spare the rod...{next}<br />
Helimomsha: Arbuckle's getting in trouble at school.<br />
Chat 4: Do you give him regular enemas? {next}<br />
Helimomsha: Arbuckle's getting in trouble at school.<br />
Chat 5: Honey, you are doing the best you can! Rock on! You are a great Mom!<br />
Helimomsha: What a relief! You're right. Thanks for your clear-headed analysis. What's up with your kids?<br />
Chat 5: Well, my issue is sibling rivalry.<br />
Helimomsha: That's a tough one! What's going on?<br />
Chat 5: My daughter Lotus is very jealous of Excel. Whenever Excel nurses, she has a fit.<br />
Helimomsha: That's very normal.<br />
Chat 5: Yeah, sure, but it's escalating. When she gets home from school and walks in the door, if he's breastfeeding, she loses it. I give her a turn right away and send him out to play basketball in the cul-de-sac... {disconnect}<br />
Chat 5: You there?<br />
<br />
* A video chat site called Other People's Children should be free of liability, right? I'll simply ask people to check the "I'm not a pedophile" box when they log in.Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-61250471854795550662010-06-26T21:49:00.001-05:002010-06-30T07:53:43.074-05:00Bears for BoltonYou know what was awesome about today? While digging through toys, throwing out, sorting, cleaning and, of course, rearranging the furniture, I got to hear Michael Bolton sing How Am I Supposed To Live Without You three times. The song is on a CD called Hearts of Gold that played continuously (mysteriously, sinisterly) while I worked. The house looks like holy hell right now - when I get into a mode like this, every room is destroyed before it can be rebuilt - but I don't care! After a day with Michael Bolton all I can think about is how shaggy and unkempt my hair is these days. I need a new do. I fear my split ends and grown out roots are too Michael Boltonish.<br />
<br />
It's somewhat ironic that I cried like a baby at Toy Story 3 a week ago and then mercilessly threw out my kids toys today. The toys were all sad looking and I realized it was one of them - a Build-a-Bear, perhaps - who must have cued up the Bolton music. Subliminal message not received, Bear. I can live without you just fine.<br />
<br />
(It's Saturday night. I'm blogging on my iPhone while flat out in bed, totally exhausted, at 9:40 pm. Is it sad I'm thrilled with my day, my evening and the lovely freedom of going to bed early?)(Shout out to Not Don for being the muscular Ricky to my Lucy. The man toted furniture all day.)(Also, I'm super efficient - cleaning one day every couple of years takes less total time than cleaning regularly. When will the world see it my way?)(Goodnight.)Not Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020963020882124144noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3147732303964003203.post-14587123077024029762010-06-25T15:13:00.000-05:002010-06-25T15:13:16.994-05:00A Horse of a Different ColorMaking art, horsing around, sweating their butts off - a terrific way for kids to enjoy their summer.<br />
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