Christmas Cards

I want 'em!

My address is 3806 Executive Ave, A21, Alexandria VA 22305.

If you would like a card, post your address as a comment, or shoot me an email to watts_malden@yahoo.com.

Vital Stats

Confirmed stats at the doctors office:

• Resting heart rate = 41 bpm
• Normal core temperature = 96 degrees
• Blood pressure = 110/60

I don't know if I'm really healthy or kind of dead...

Lonesome Dove

I had every plan in the world to go on a road trip yesterday. Friday I printed out my little maps and itinerary, gassed up the car, and then stopped in at the bookstore to pick up a newly released business book. I can never buy just ONE book, but have to buy at least TWO. If I'm going in to get a non-fiction book, I have to pick out one fiction that is on my list and vice versa. Don't want to get unbalanced in my reading...

My list of fiction comes from various list that are compiled, mostly by Random House; 100 top books of the American 20th century is my favorite. The have been five on my list that keep getting bumped, either because I desperately wanted to read something else, or the bookstore didn't have it in stock.

Lonesome Dove has been one of those five. It has been bumped several times mostly because it's a Western and I'm a girl. So, on Friday, having picked up the new business book I specifically went to get, and having just watched the dusty, but sexy cattle driver of Hugh Jackman in Australia, I was hankerin' for Western and Lonesome Dove jumped off my list and into my hands.

It's been an engrossing read. Enough so that I started thinking late Friday night, maybe I should take one of my accrued vacation days and stay home and read tomorrow...and I did. It's a big book, almost as big as Les Mis. I'm on page 146 and I'm not sure that I've gotten to the "Pulitzer prize winning" guts of the book, but it's good.

One thing that I think is odd is how much he talks about peeing. There's not a chapter that goes by that he doesn't talk about one of the cowboys peeing. (or pissing to be exact) Do guys like to read about cowboys peeing??

Well, I'll see ya' again in about another 799 pages.

Thanksgiving

We didn't celebrate holidays in my family when I was a child. When I moved out at a young age I used to fantasize about what my future holidays would be like: a large warm house full of family and friends talking, playing games, reading books, watching football or Hallmark movies, bread baking, and pies cooling on the counter, dogs curled up by the fire, etc. You get the picture.

Many, many years later, this fantasy hasn't come even close to being true. Well, I do have little animals curled up fast asleep but they're cats, not dogs. I love the meaning of being thankful and doing for others, though I try to do this everyday. but I'm kind of over celebrating Thanksgiving and Christmas the way others do. Mostly it's turned out that it's a day spent with a hodge-podge of strangers that you'll never see again and eating LARGE amounts of food (which I'm not sure how that differs from just going out to a restaurant) Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not really all that into eating, and definitely not into spending lots of time with strangers.

However, in my anti-Thanksgiving celebration, there are a few things that I wish to express thanksgiving for this season:

I'm grateful for having a good job and a savings account
I'm grateful for having well stocked cupboards with healthy food
I'm grateful for a healthy and strong body
I'm grateful for my faith in Christ
I'm grateful for being able to choose my own religion, vote, and other liberties
I'm grateful for my two cats and animals in general
I'm grateful for technology, education, books and knowledge
And I'm grateful for the sunshine when it is out, and I'm grateful for the rain when it rains. (I don't know how to express how much I love weather, but almost every journal entry and every prayer starts out with my gratitude for whatever it was for the day. )

Don't worry, it's not a policital thing

If you check up on me once a week or so for updates, I am sad to report that I've got nothing for you.

The most exciting thing I've got to report today is that I had a dream last night that I married Obama, and I'm not sure I would classify that as 'exciting'. Just very bizarre. And I'm not sure why him; I'm sure he'll be a fine President, but I'm not into politicians, or men with super-huge egos (and I believe if you want to be President, you've GOT to have a huge ego) and I don't really find him attractive, and, he's got a wife and kids and everything, so why him? I've got a long list of celebrity crushes that I'd much rather walk down the aisle with!

Yep. That's about it. I wasn't even cool enough to go to Bond this weekend. (Yeah, James Bond! I'd rather marry him than Obama.)

Time Change

This is the hardest part of the year for me; the time between the time change and the winter solistice, Dec 21. I need sunshine! Even in the coldest of February I can be content to know that each day is getting longer.

On my ride home Friday night, I noticed an oak tree had suddenly changed it's color. The contrast along the evergreens and weeping willows was striking. Every day I think about bringing my camera to work to capture the monuments by sunrise or sunset, but having been caught in the rain several times, I always decide to keep my camera home. Knowing that I'll now be riding home in the dark, I resigned myself to capturing the tree in my minds camera and call it good.

Luckily for my camera (and my spirits) dear Mother Nature gave us one last fantastically beautiful Saturday. I went for a three hour ride and soaked up as much sunshine as I could hoping it'll keep me for the next few months. (I rode enough that I actually had a little motion sickness when I went to bed last night. Like after you go boating.)

I am no great photographer, but below is the tunnel of trees with the glowing orange oak. (double click on the photo and I think you'll get a larger image.) And a little photo of me under the tree.

Below that is a little turle on a log that I snapped. Isn't he so cute?

A New Toy

When I first moved out on my own at the young age of 16, my first dad gave me a few hundred dollars as a Christmas/Birthday/Goodluck gift. Hmmmm....what to buy...I was torn between two tempations: a xylophone or a motorcylce. With help from my second dad I opted for a 250cc Honda Twinstar Motorcycle. It was, in this case, the more practical decision.

At work we have various competitions with different tiers of award points. With these points you can 'purchase' goods from a special website. Kinda like Wheel-of-Fortune. I've never been too interested in the competitions because it seems that what most people buy are clothes, jewelery, tv's and electronic gizmo's and other such normal fares. However...

A few weeks ago I was on the site trying to figure out what I can order. I was thinking maybe I should get some winter gear to bike to work in. And then...I saw a musical instrument tab...hehehe...with 9 hard-earned points I got a keyboard. It's nothing out of this world, but for living in a tiny little apartment, and not having had a piano for so long, I am in heaven!

And now, I love these competitions. If we win our next one, I'm going to get a flute! I am on my way to owning my very own orchestra.

Sadly, they don't have any xylophones...

007

Only in DC....

Yesterday I had to go to the Judiciary Building in Downtown DC to begin the process of getting my notary. (for work.) The people conducting the orientation were going through a list of documents we can, or cannot notarize, and the appropriate forms of identifaction we can accept.

With a completly straight face, they went through the list of ID we can accept for secret agents.

emesis

At least once a year I will get the three day flu. The first day will start with a fever and chills; intense sweating, joint and muscle aches, delirium. On the second day the fever continues and then comes stomach pain. It's that second day that I dread so much; I know that I'm going to vomit eventually, and I know from years of experience that I will feel better, but with each stomach pain I twist and squirm and try to hold things down. Then comes the event, (use your imagination) and then subsiding relief until the next build-up. On the third day I am tired and drained but feel so much better. I can manage to watch a TV show or even read a book. Toast and soup sit comfortably in my belly.

I kind of feel like my move to DC has been a drawn out second day of the flu. For the past two years a pain had been building in me. I squirmed and twisted and tried to avoid what needed to come out. But moving here was like drinking a glass of epsom salt and all has come rushing out of me. It's as yucky as I remember these sorts of things being, but I know that soon the pain will no longer be a part of me.

I only wish that you could take a flu shot for life.

Gizmo

My little Pennywhistel has turned into a regular Gremlin! She is so sweet, but she loves to spend time with me and needs my attention anytime I home. Even if when I'm at home means 3:00 am in the morning when I'm sound asleep. To wake me for hugs and scratches, she hops up on the bed and starts her tender sad meowing. Secondly, she will start patting me with her little paw. When that fails to illicit a petting hand, she will nudge at the covers until she finds bare flesh and then starts nipping at me.

Every night we have a little talk about waiting until the alarm goes off at 5:30 and also discuss that I am not covered with fur like her real mother. So far, I have not been able to teach her English or how to tell time.

(I wish that I could take a better photo of her. She really does look like Gizmo with her little tufts of long fur behind her ears, and her little beige mask.)

Going for Gold?

I'm having a little Olympic Withdrawal. I miss Lochte, Lezak, Phelps and Torres. I miss Bolt and Bob too. I miss the backstories, victories and defeats. (However, for the first time in over two weeks I've been able to go to bed before midnight.)

Growing up in track & field and swimming, I've always been a sucker for the summer games and I still dream about someday being a competitior. (I'm thinking flat water kayaking or clay pigeon shooting are my last options at this point in my life...) But it's not the Gold I'd dream about getting. It's the Bronze.

When you win the Gold, you are the champion for four years, but people are going to talk about how you cheated, or the judges cheated, or how you just barely won, or that you take steroids. And then somebody is going to take it away from you and you'll be compared to who wins four years from now and who you beat etc.

When you win the Silver, it just means you weren't good enough to get the Gold. Sometimes you weren't good enough by 1/100 of a second. You are going to lie awake for many nights thinking "if only". If only I would have jumped a little harder, glided a little faster, pedalled stronger, ran faster, if only...

But the Bronze...have you ever watched the Bronze winner? They are just as happy as the Gold winner, if not happier. They were good enough to get a medal at the Olympic games. They gave it their all with no expectation other than to finish. There's no pressure to justify how they won, and no pressure that their record is going to be taken from them. Just peaceful sleeping knowing you won a medal at the Olympics. Case in point, when Peter Vanderkaay won bronze in the mens 200 Freestyle. He was so ecstatic on the medal podium, and his father crying and waving in the stands. The bronze. I'd race for the bronze.

*Eating Yams and Long Striding Gams

Every two years I'm reminded how much I love Bob Costas!

(you know. The Olympic broadcaster? Yeah, I'm sure he does other sports too...)

(*upon the Jamaican Bolt winning the Gold.)

Volunteering

So if you know anything about me you probably know that a) I'm a little quirky and b) I really love volunteer projects.

Before I even moved down to DC I submitted an application to teach adult education to the Arlington County Correctional Facility. i.e...people in jail. I've been very excited about this project and have called and emailed with the director. Last week I went to the orientation for the program and I loved everything about it: the organizers, the other volunteers, the service it self.

However, I've talked myself out of this volunteer project. Not for the reasons normal people might. Like, the fact that you are actually in the jail, you have have training for what happens WHEN you're in a lock down, that you are sitting in a room with 6-8 people who could have sold drugs or murdered someone. no, none of those reasons. I was actually really excited about all of that.

It came down to two things: 1) scheduling: they don't offer classes at a time that I can volunteer. 2) wardrobe. yeah. so, the main three kinds of clothes I wear are business suits, dress/skirts, work-out clothes. But in the jail we can not wear skirts or business clothes or anything that would show a lot of skin, like shorts. Casual pants and big shirts are the only thing you can wear. It's completely understandable why, but those are clothes I don't own, and, the thought of wearing pants just was too much for me.

Yes reader, I opted out of tutoring GED classes to inmates because I can't wear pants.

Commute

When I first interviewed in the DC office, I was told that several people biked to work. I spent some time with two of them and they pointed out on a map where they lived and the trail they used. That information was one of the biggest deciding factors when I booked my apartment. I will do anything to get where I need to go by using my own energy. I just HATE driving and am only mildly less averse to taking the subway.

My last mtn bike was stolen during a robbery in November. I had a difficult time deciding what kind of bike to get. The commute is 8 miles each way so I didn't want to go with a fat mtn bike with shocks, but I have never liked being on a road bike. I REALLY wanted a cyclocross, or tricross bike, but they're not cheap. I went with the hybrid on road slicks. Ideally I could have a bike for all purposes, but this one will do for now.

Including my Incredible Hulk trike, this is my 9th bike which doesn't sound like a lot if you say compare them to shoes, but I imagine is more than I'll ever have of cars.

Anyway, below are a few pictures of what my commute home looks like. I wish I could capture the wind and sound in the last two photo's. The trail goes right along the airport and there is a giant park that in the evening everyone goes to to have picnics, play soccer, but mostly just to watch the planes take off and land. It literally almost takes your breath away the planes are so close over head.

The Ride


Lincoln Memorial

Washington Monument

Some cool statue as you cross the bridge


Coming in for a landing


just passed over head

Fuel

This is how much I hate driving (and how much I love my little Chevy Prism): Almost one full month later, and I have finally co-mingled DC gas with my last fill up somewhere on the Jersey turnpike on June 23, 1:00 pm.

It's funny how little end dates and mile markers can make you homesick.

funktionlust

"the pleasurable sensation that an organism experiences when it is functioning according to its physical and sensory potential."

BTW

In case you didn't know (and chances are you don't since I didn't tell many people) I moved to DC two weeks ago. Yeah, I don't know why I keep those sort of things to myself. Last week I received an email from the bishopric of LP2 asking if we could meet. Um...well...no 'cause I moved to DC and didn't tell anyone.

I'm here instead of there and so far it's pretty cool.

4th of July

I was four years old when I was in my first parade. It was the Pioneer Day Parade in SLC. I had a purple bike with a banana seat and long purple and pink streamers from the handle bars.

I started marching band in 5th grade and played in Christmas and 4th of July parades until 8th grade. I've been in a couple of Mardi Gras (not in New Orleans) parades and got to toss out candy to the specators. Any time I've not been in a parade, I've gone to watch the parade go by. I LOVE parades!

Last Tuesday I recieved an email via a listserve asking for volunteers to carry flags or balloons for Friday's 4th of July parade. I RSVP'd immediatly! I was so excited about it that I even convinced one of my co-workers to joing up with me.

Here are a few photo's from the parade:

It's about 8:00 am. The balloons are getting pumped up and ready to go.

I'm a star! My co-worker and I are each on a point of this star. There was a lot of waiting. More waiting than marching. We were 'float' number 83 out of 150.

Watching Uncle Sam enter the parade.

A view of the White House while in the parade.

It was sooo much fun. Hot and tiring and I couldn't beleive how much my arm hurt from waving, but I would do it again. The only down side to being in the parade is that you don't get to watch the parade.

Sweets

Pet Peeve: grocery clerks who make comments about the food you are buying.

Purchased:
Spinach salad bar
bottle of Ken's fat free sundried tomato dressing
2 plums
2 nectarines
2 peaches
cup o' miso soup
whole wheat bagel
box of whoppers

"I love all your *health* food and then this box of whoppers."

Yep, I eat candy. Almost everyday. Not really a grocery clerks business to make snide comments about what I buy. Isn't it in fact their business to talking me into buying more?

mmmm...I can't wait to eat those whoppers!

Indian Style

There are not many possesions that I need, but the one thing I do need is a chair. I can live without a bed, I don't care much for clothes, I can find ways to cook without pots & pans, but I hate not having a chair to sit on.

Which is funny, because I often times kneel. At work, doing homework in my bedroom, working on a project. I really like to kneel. But without an anchor to kneel against I need to sit and sitting Indian Style hurts. This might say something about my posture...

Recycle

I have been doing major spring cleaning, using up old stored products and spending very little money the past two weeks. I needed to do a load of laundry today but was out of laundry detergent. We contemplated using dish soap but was afraid of a Brady Bunch episode in my kitchen.

What I used instead was a cup of old baking soda and the final dredges of my milk & honey bath soap. THIS was amazing! My laundry is so clean and fresh. Tons better than *real* laundry detergent. I don't know if in the end it would be more cost effective, or if it's really good for my laundry, but I really liked this load. I can't wait to sleep in my sheets tonight!

new bubble gum recommendations

Try - Extra Strawberry-Banana: Good flavor, not overly sweet, and true to Extra brand, long lasting. Not crazy about the packaging but I prefer the good old fashioned five sticks in a pack style.

Don't Try - Bubbilicious Inked: Sometimes I like fun gum. This is a new gum that 'inks' your tongue blue/purple. The 'inking' juice feels like pure acid on your tongue. This is probably the only pack of gum that I've never finished. I tried two pieces and threw the rest away. I'll stick with Freshen-up if I want squirty gum.

air conditioning

In my youthful Southern days, the only place we ever had air conditioning was when we lived with my grandparents. Which was off and on. Being normal active kids, we were often lectured about going in and out, letting out the cold air and wasting electricity. (we were taught many lessons about not wasting things when we lived with my grandparents. I still save used aluminum foil.) So I've spent a fair amount of time living in the very hot and humid south withouth air conditioning. And usually heat doesn't bother me. But I am not covered in fur.

The past few days here in Boston have been HOT. Friday night I was wearing sweat pants and a jacket around the house. Sunday? 100 degrees. The funny thing is I didn't realize I was hot until I got home from church to change my clothes and my dress was soaked through. And I'm used to suffering through the heat so I don't really ever think about using air conditioning. But my poor cats are prostrate against the bathroom tile trying to stay cool.

An old roommate left their window air conditioner installed in the upstairs bedroom, so, despite my aversion to air conditioning I turned it on for the cats. But they won't stay in the room alone! It's a baked 100 degrees on the main floor, but if I'm down here, then the cats will be too. They'll stay in the room if I'm there with them, so, in an empty room with no tv, no internet, no furniture or anything else but that air conditioner, I sit and read a book or write or take a nap. (I did try to take out the unit to move it down stairs, but it really is a two person job...)

I'm hoping that tomorrow's weather is cooler.

The Manual

Do you have a box of stuff that you just move from place to place? You're not entirely certain what's in the box, but every time you open it the top contents indicate that "yes. there are some important things in there but nothing urgent to deal with." so you close the flaps back up and promise to deal with it on a rainy day?

I'm going through that box right now and I just found my Diamond Back bike manual. First, I've been riding a bike since I was five. Do I really need a manual? Secondly, my Diamond Back, a wonderful bike, met it's demise on a June Monday evening around 6:00 pm in Liberty Park. In 2000. Yeah. EIGHT years ago!

I think I can safely throw this bike manual away. (Though I am thinking of replacing my Specialized with another Diamond Back...)

Alter Ego's

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car) Juco Prizm

2. YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie) Neopolitian Chocolate Chip

3. YOUR 'FLY GIRL' NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name) H-Hug

4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal) Orangefrog (but I always wanted it to be "Laura Holt" :) )

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born) Angelica Bossier

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first) HugHe

7. SUPERHERO NAME: ("The" + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink) Red Aqua

8. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers) June Francis - (yeah, my grandfathers had girly names...)

9. WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother's & father's middle names) Z. Loyyd

10. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher's last name, a major city that starts with the same letter) Besheirs Birmingham

11. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower) Summer Magnolia

12. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing your wearing right now + 'ie' or 'y') Grapefruity Socky

13. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree) Oatmeal Dogwood

14. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: ("the" + Your fave hobby/cract, fave weather element + 'tour") The Hiking Rainstorm Tour

illumination

I recently purchased the new energy-saver light bulbs. I am not a fan of the squiggly pig tail shaped, low frequency humming, overly bright-blue-hued light. I'll recycle rain water, walk instead of drive, use cloth instead of paper or plastic, but I'll keep using the old fashioned kind of light bulbs.

Maltie and Pennywhistle

If I could control my universe, at the top of my list I would be married and have four children.

Coming in second, I would like a pet sheep. I had a pet sheep once and she was the best furry friend ever! I bathed her once a week, I read poetry to her, and I played my flute for her. She never once told me I was bad. Unfortunately, sheep and city living don't mix.

Thirdly, I really, really want a dog. A little four legged friend to go on hikes, to play games in the park, a co-pilot on errands, and a happy heart to greet me when I come home at night. Only trouble is I tend to come home too late and I think little Fido would be very sad all by himself.

I knew what the logical choice was; a cat. ugh. a single woman with a cat. But I do love cats. And have had several pet cats in the past. (okay, what kind of pet haven't I had? well, only North American animals anyway...) I went to a cat shelter looking for ONE fluffy orange cat. Orange is my favorite! What did I get? Two little fluffy calico sisters. (I am one cat away from the crazy cat lady!)


I still would prefer children, sheep, or a dog, but I love these two little girls. They give me comfort and affection and only give me dirty looks when I accidentally step on them, which is often since they follow me from room to room.

And maybe it's good practice for being a mom: I have to sweep the floor every day from all the things they scatter around, put away all sharp tools, pick up toys and put them where they belong, clean up kitty vomit, feed, water, and change the litter box, I never get to even shower alone because they come and sit on the edge of the tub to keep close to me, I get up earlier than my alarm because they seem to think it's time to be held and petted. But I like it. Gives me something more than me to be responsible for and they cuddle and purr and pet me back.

Spoiled

I never thought I'd do it, but I finally went to a spa and had a facial. I can think of a million more important things to do with $90 bucks, but it was a pretty nice experience!

Stake Through the Heart

Today is stake conference. I never go. I feel a little guilty about it, (I actually just feel guilty that I slept in until 9:00 a.m.) but I always come away feeling depressed. It seems like stake conference is more like a 6 month reunion where you see who else has gotten married, who is pregnant or on their 2nd (3rd, 4th...) child. And you get to see who the popular single people are as they set up their little camps around the gym, saving seats for one another. Where ever I am sitting, I focus and concentrate straight ahead as hard as I can, with blinders on, like a race horse, so that I can't see all this going on around me. And I feel like a race horse just running around and around the same track and not really going anywhere. Except to maybe the barn every once in a while.

The last conference I went to I had arrived early enough to get a nice comfortable seat near the front. There was an older man from the Belmont ward on the same pew. I asked him if I could sit there. At the time, he was only saving room for his wife and there was ample room for me. Along came married friends of mine; they sat next to me. A few single friends in the row in front. Two minutes before the conference was to begin, with seats jammed packed, the older man's daughter and son-in-law came over and wanted to sit on our filled bench. The older man's wife told me because I was single, I should move to make room for the family. I had never liked this woman before this episode and I assure you this did not endear her to my heart.

Needless to say, I'd much rather stay home and work in my flower beds in the drizzle than endure Stake Conference.

What & Why

I've been thinking a lot today about questions and the people who ask them. It seems there are people who ask "what" questions and people who ask "why" questions. I don't think I respond well to "what" questions. I feel like I'm being interrogated and the question lingers in my mind long after the conversation ends. These are a few examples of 'what' questions from various levels of friends in the past few weeks: "what do you like to do on the weekend?" "what is your living situation like?" "what would you do if you were in an argument with a friend?" "what is your idea of a perfect marriage?"

These sort of 'what' questions do not stir thought in me. They don't speak any language in my mind for me to answer with emotion and thought but only black and white words. I get "why" questions. "Why do you like Steinbeck?" "Why do you enjoy hiking on Saturday morning?" "Why do you like animals so much?" "Why did the chicken cross the road?" (just kidding. just seeing if you were paying attention.)

Is there a difference between a "what" and a "why" question? Do different personality traits ask one kind of question more over another? Like, I'm an INTJ and I ask and respond more often to 'why' questions. One of my closest friends is also and INTJ and they also seem to ask and respond to 'why' questions.

I tried GOOGLEing this topic, but doesn't seem to be a lot of research out there. Maybe I should change the name of my blog to Why Why's??

Zip It Zip It Good

Can someone please explain why they still make fold-n-seal sandwhich baggies???

If a Woodchuck Could Chuck Wood...

My first official date was with a boy named Chuck. I was 17, he 16. He drove a beige Chevy Nova and I thought he was soooo cool. We worked together at Burger King and bonded over burgers and Beatles. Even though we had a great time goofing off at work, I was terrified to go on a date with him alone, and made my friend Beth, go with us. Even though the date was disatrous, we flirted and dated for another six months before he moved away to MI.

There's a new Chuck in my life. http://www.nbc.com/Chuck/ I'm almost as in-love with this Chuck as the first Chuck. Except this new Chuck won't leave me crying in my pillow at night.

I've watched Chuck so many times, that recently I wrote out a check to "Buy More" instead of "Best Buy". I know, seriously, who writes checks anymore??

Watch the show. It's awesome. And hopefully someday soon the writers strike will be over and more than 13 episodes will be available.