Celebrate the COW!

Welcome to Cow Appreciation Day 2008!

We missed it last year but all is not lost! Sing a song, dance a dance, write a sonnet, but celebrate the cow!

Here are some links to help you along....

(Just click on the pictures)

Happy Cow Appreciation DAY!!!

3-2-1....Contact!

I had to search for some documents recently and I ended up uncovering a few extra things.

I didn't find the thing that I needed, having put it in a place for safe keeping. It's safe alright. Safe from me and everyone else.

But there were other items I found during this gumshoe activity that made me smile, laugh and remember old friends.

I found notes from my mother. They were mostly utilitarian; "I'm sending you this clipping that I thought was interesting" or 'here's some stickers I thought you'd like'. A few years ago I went through a similar search mission and found a lot of these notes. I decided at that time that I would keep them all, because when my mother passes on, I will still get to have her with me.

I will have all the things she wrote to me at my fingertips and that will bring me comfort when I miss her and she is no longer writing me notes about the clipping from the local newspaper. Some of them may end up being out of context, removed from whatever they were attached to but that will make me laugh. And laughter always brings healing.

I came across a card from a co-worker and friend from many years ago. She sent me flowers because I was inconsolable in my broken heart and her note told me that she was my true friend when things were seemingly bleak. It made me smile and I wrote to her and told her so.

I found old letters from high school friends and college friends. That was before email and cell phones and text messaging and online blogging*.

We had to write to each other, putting pens to paper, to recount what had been happening since the last letter. The ones with multiple pages on college rule were the ones you cherished. Because that took time and that was special! Even boys wrote letters and sent them!!

As I was uncovering this treasure trove of memories of my little life, I thought how hurried and un-special our lives and relationships can become. We no longer have time to write letters; we're too busy with our blackberries to even spell properly. We lose interest so quickly and there is no more sentiment. I won’t discount the efficiency of email but for some of the really important stuff I wish we still cared enough to send our very best instead of coping out with text messaging.

Aren't we always gasping in awe about how, could we have possibly let so much time go by without spending time or communicating with those that we have connected deeply with?

Those are the times, the notes, and the moments when we feel belonging and alive.

Facebook, Friendster, MySpace all have claimed to be tools to connect with people. But it's not a real connection. It's a substitute. Connection is listening to a guy play a song he wrote and having it move you to tears. Connection is feeling like you've known someone your whole life and telling them so. Connection is reveling in the excitement of a shared idea and a meeting of the minds. These things have to be done in person or at the very least, over the telephone.

Connection is not an email of carefully crafted words. Connection is not a text message or a web page or a voicemail. This is what we've devised and created so we can avoid true connection. Why are we so scared? Why are we so scarred?

We all want the same things. We want our lives, our existence, to matter to someone else.

We don't want to feel alone or lonely. We don't want to feel empty or cold on the inside. We don't want to be left behind or left out. We want magic and love and we want love to be magic. We don't want to be discarded or forgotten. And we don't want to be hurt for believing and giving love.

I think about these things a lot because it is usually my undoing when a connection fades or ceases to be. As a little girl, a teenager even, I would cry to see visitors leave or when I left someone I adored.

I want to hang on, I want to cling and it’s because my heart wants so much to give out its love and devotion. It feels unnatural to have to stop that flow from one heart to another.

It’s quite a conundrum really. We crave understanding and union with other souls. We long to be intimately known and yet we tend to run away when someone comes too close. This, I believe, is what is known as the human condition. I just don’t really understand it.

I only know that I want more of those moments that are authentic. The moments when I hear a song lyric and am found in it even though I didn’t write the words. The moments when I am singing to a crowd of people and smile at the person in the front row and they smile back. The moments when I am sitting in peaceful silence watching a butterfly with my sister. I want more of those.

So, my search for that document led me here. Where instead of finding a piece of paper, I uncovered parts of the past that helped me find another piece of my soul to share.

*(Yes, I realize that I am posting this in an online blog. Isn't irony fun?)

Flag Day Fun

It's here! June 14th.

The BEST holiday of all time, well except for Cow Appreciation day. So, it's the 2nd best holiday of all time.

Wave it loud and wave it proud people, today is Flag Day.

I know everyone says Christmas or Halloween but really Flag Day is better. You know it is.

Who cares if you're patriotic or not? You don't have to send cards or get gifts and there aren't large department store displays urging you to depart with your disposable income.

So, embrace it. Live it. Love it.

Get the new Weezer album to celebrate. It's awesome. But not the New Kids on the Block. It is not awesome. It's ridiculous.

On Approach...Birthday

So, in three days I'll be another year older. I have always liked my birthday; I like everyone's birthday. I relish celebrating the people I love. But I don't have much to say about it this year. I feel a bit 'blah' about it this year.

I don't have much to say about anything really. I don't have any ranting to do or news to tell or adventures to report.

Time seems to go more quickly as the age climbs higher. I guess that's why it becomes increasingly more important to live fully and completely and to love deeply and courageously.

I hope to do that more this year.

Capers in the Comstock

Rich in history and full of interesting characters, Virginia City, Nevada is a place I haven't visited since I lived in Reno seven years ago.

But this weekend I traveled to Sacramento to see friends and was swooped up for an adventure back to the brown Sierra of my discontent and up the Geiger Grade to the home of the Comstock Lode to listen to a band of a friend.

This strange trip back in time had the memories flooding back of places and people I used to know. It was weird and fun at the same time.

The four of us made our way to the historic Gold Hill Hotel and after dumping our bags headed directly to the bar for our first drinks of the night. It was after all 4PM.









We then headed in to town to the Silver Dollar Saloon located down a set of steep stairs, where
we were greeted by the sounds of a local man singing "El Paso" among others. He changed the words frequently to add color and interest.

We also met the barkeep, her daughter Cat and Cat's husband Stone. Yep, that's right his name was Stone. Apparently, his mother wanted to name him Rocky, but his dad didn't, so she settled on Stone. Cat and Stone had returned to Nevada from an undisclosed location in Texas where their six children were taken away from them because of Cat's meth problem. She's now sober three months and working in her mom's bar trying to get her kids back. (Insert the irony here.)


All of this story telling made us hungry and we went to dinner at the only restaurant in town.

Having nourished ourselves with tasty TexMex for the night ahead, it was time to go to the Old Washoe Club to see the band. Tony G and the boys were good and the local characters of Virginia City were shakin' it on the dance floor. It's really true that white men can't really dance. The people watching was spectacular. After two sets and what I think was four gin and tonics, it was time to call it a night. Or so I thought.

As you might imagine, there's a lot of talk of ghosts in this old western mining town.
So, as the four of us exit the bar, the guys become intrigued by a dark stairway and some commotion about ghosts and head up the dark stairwell. They disappear for a good length of time and us girls decide that we no longer want to wait out in the cold, cold night. So, we get in the truck and 'cruise' up and down the main street a couple times for no particular reason other than to kill time. We call the boys and they promise to be waiting on the sidewalk when we return. This is of course not the case.

So, we go back into the bar where it's warm and have another drink. We are then approached by a dude, Don, who asks us if we like magic and could he and his friend, Mike, show us a trick. Ugh. That's all I have to say. I give all the credit to my friend who makes it difficult for these dorks but she eventually plays along.
So, we chat with these clowns and my friend helps them with their little magic trick. Then things start to get sketchy when Don tells us that they had been watching us and were disappointed when we left but were glad to see we had returned. Then he asks me why we are in Virginia City. To which I reply that I'm visiting my friend and her husband. He's disappointed by this news and then asks me if I am married. I tell him no but the tone has changed in his demeanor and I can't wait for the guys to return from ghost hunting so we can get out of there!

And then my friend abandons me for the bathroom just as the guys come in. So, there I am talking to these clowns trying to figure out how to get away. I eventually escape but not before Don starts saying some inappropriate things that force me to tell a little white lie about our tall friend being my boyfriend. Which works like a charm, thank god.

Then the four of us make our getaway back to the Gold Hill bar, where we started, for one more cocktail to settle our nerves.

In the morning, we all feel fine and have one last hurrah in town at the Bucket of Blood saloon for the traditional bloody mary.



And back down the five mile road back to Reno and on to Sacramento we went, another adventure completed.

Progression Not Regression

I'm happy to report that the numbness in my foot is dissolving steadily.
I believe that this is due to the electric stim being administered in physical therapy and I am so very glad. It apparently works like acupuncture and reduces inflammation.

I am also glad for the time to be able to heal properly as I feel more delicate than before. I can think of nothing worse than having that pain return. Although I still have a good arsenal of pain relievers waiting in the wings.

This also means that I am going to have to get a maid. I simply cannot clean the way I used to. And forget running the vacuum. That CAUSED a back problem once a few years ago.

In other news, I met Johnny V from the Scott Baio show on VH1. He's a nice guy despite his antics on the show.

In music news, I'm recommending Feist, Sara Bareilles, and A Fine Frenzy. I'm getting back out there myself now that I can walk upright again.

There's not much else to muse about. I am returning to my life and that's a good thing. As several people have said to me recently "you look happy" and I guess I am, I really can say that I am.

One of These Scars is Not Like the Other

I don't really have anything interesting to post about.





I had surgery, I'm recovering. I'm going to have to go back to work. Which of course depends on some things. We won't get into that, it's not even remotely interesting.

My mind is mostly empty and devoid of cleverness. I apologize. I blame the insomnia which probably has to do with the lack of pain medicine coursing through my bloodstream which is why I can't find a comfortable position that doesn't involve twisting my surgically altered spine, plus my still numb foot is very troublesome. Hence, insomnia.

I should probably just keep taking the pills but I would probably need to visit with Dr. Drew if I did that. I saw Jeff Conaway detoxing and it wasn't something I want to sign up for, ever.

Anyway, that's it. I have two more weeks of watching bad TV and then, well, who knows. I just remembered that Tuesday is a huge primary election day and that will surely be exciting! Don't forget to vote!

Lumbar Surgery Will Be Fun: Day 29

9:30 AM - Roused from sleep by telephone call. It was excellent news so I didn't mind

10AM - Watch the View

11AM - Watch Bobby Flay grill some stuff, contemplate whether or not I'll get dressed today

11:30AM - Start writing this blog, while some guy on the Food Network uses gray salt

12:00PM - Still on the Food Network. It's my favorite show with Ina Garten

12:30PM - Sandra Dee is way too perky and excited about her semi-homemade goodies and tablescapes. I change the channel and get out of bed

1:00PM - On the couch now, still not dressed. Decide to watch Fletch and Dazed and Confused brought to me by a good friend. This takes us to...

5:00PM - Time for Seinfeld

6:00PM - Hobble down the stairs to get the mail. I throw on a sweater because it's windy

6:30PM - Burn time in some fashion while icing back. Decide it's time to crawl back into bed

7:00PM - Log back in to finish this really boring entry while watching Animal House

7:30PM - Concluding this boring entry now to do something else. Maybe writing or reading (gasp!) and will try to go to sleep earlier as pre-op appointment is in the morning although the consistent insomnia will probably win again. Oh yeah, I never got dressed. That's the beauty of pajama pants

Flaxey's Scalpel Countdown: Day 25

All there is to do when you can't really move without it being painful is numb your mind with television and the internet.

I am, of course, completely fed up with this but what else can be done? Nothing, nothing at all.






It's 'teen best friend week' on Wheel of Fortune. I only watched it once because well, teens are annoying on game shows. I thought it careless at best that the prize wranglers thought it was wise to give away a trip to Amsterdam. To teenagers? Really? Amsterdam? Yeah, it must have been someone's day off when that was approved.

The View is truly irritating. I've watched it everyday religiously, except when I slept through it. Whoopi and Joy always look at each other like they are in a special club that the others will never be able to join because they are just too silly. I hardly blame them; after all Sherri Shepard is worthless and not that bright. (Today she thought John McCain's last name was McCann and upon being corrected said 'that's right McCann's is shoes.' Way to go Sherri.) And Elizabeth Hasselbeck is annoyance in a jar. Honestly, this show has given us the best it could years ago and they should just shut it down.

Paula Deen repeats are slowly chipping away at my sanity.

American Idol is back. This hasn't helped things much either, except to kill time before I take a pain pill. It's better to watch it with others.


Election coverage continues to be exciting. I can't believe that Edwards dropped out before super Tuesday. Hils and Barak battled it out last night. I bet we see them stop agreeing with each other this time. At least I hope so, but they are in Hollywood, so they might feel the need to act phony in order to fit in. I taped it so I don't know what happened yet.

Oprah hasn't taken up much of my time. I forget it's on. It's better to watch it when you can skip the commercials anyway. She barely lets her guests speak and that's difficult to tolerate even if the show is called 'Oprah'.

I also am not that interested in Ellen's show. It really just kills the hour before I can watch Seinfeld.




Do we need anymore movies about how inner-city, underprivileged youths dance their way to freedom and a better life? Is that really how it happens? With hip-hop dancing? I really don't recall 'Step Up' being the massive hit the trailer for 'Step Up 2: The Streets' is claiming it was. And 'How She Move'? Huh? Haven't these movies been made already?

Yep, this is how I've been passing the time. I suppose I could read but the level ten-plus-plus-plus bouts of blinding pain sort of ruin the concentration required for absorbing intellectual material.

Only twelve more days to go....

Blue Xmas - Holiday Rants - Volume Two

I have not been a fan of the events during the month of December for quite sometime. (Well, except for the drinking.) But we don't need to get into the reasons for that.

Here are my Holiday Rants for 2007.


1.If It Can Be Seen, It Must Be Adorned!

It occurred on my drive into work this morning. The contemptible decoration.
You may remember my denunciation two years ago about the extremely offensive wreaths on cars.

Well, this is what I witnessesd this morning and I am beside myself with disgust.
(Although I applaud the capitalist genius that is now making money hand over fist all across the land.)


Seriously, people. I ask again, why must every surface be decorated in some manner? It is not festive, it is not cheery, it is NOT cute, it is purely annoying.
It invites mockery and destruction of property. Why do you want that? WHY?

(You can read more here.)

There will be no end to this, I realize and I will eventually have to find an island in which to reside if I no longer wish to be irritated by these redneck-diguised-as-yuppie forms of 'holiday cheer'.

2. It's a Wonderful Life

I am not a fan of this movie. Yes, I've seen it.
No, I don't want to see it again just to be sure.
I didn't like it and I'm tired of people telling me that I'm un-American or cold-hearted or lacking a soul because I don't cherish this dismal movie.

3. Fake Patience

At the airport, at the checkout, on the freeway. This is the time when we want to be moving faster, not slower. Don't try to be all "Happy Holidays" when you've taken seven hours to put that bag sticker on my luggage. It won't get to where I'm going anyway. Just slap it on there and let me wade through the security checkpoint and all the other travelers trying to be excited about the holidays by faking patience as they tell their boring stories of what they do at christmas back home in Iowa.


That's all I can muster this year. The energy is low. Enjoy the rest of December and remember 2008 is Leap Year! Now that's exciting!

Loss and Lost

I usually don't post anything too personal or revealing or real for that matter. It's a funny little blog, showcasing my amazing sense of humour and wit.
Not that by sharing all the thoughts I've been saving is going to change anything, but it will free up some of the space in my head. And since I can't afford therapy anymore, this will have to do and it's going to be heavy.

I've been thinking a lot about broken hearts lately. I thought that I had suffered
them a few times, but those were all illusions.
When my niece died, I watched my sister's heart break.
That was and is a real broken heart.
One that I can't fix.
I have always, for the most part, been able to take care of my sister. I am at a loss this time. I can only offer what I always have and that will be fine, but it still doesn't seem like enough.

I still haven't really been able to process it. I have just been going through the motions of my life since I returned to it a week or so ago. I am being forced into change, yet again and alone as always. This time it seems utterly insurmountable because of all the extra stuff being piled on at the same time. I know intellectually, that that isn't true but I am so tired and exhausted that my will to pick up the pieces (again) is depleted.

What I want is to be seven years old again and be able to curl up in my mother's lap and cry until it doesn't hurt anymore. Knowing that she will make it stop hurting. We don't realize what we have when we're seven, do we? And I suppose, sometimes, on the other side of that is a tired adult wishing they too were seven, curled up and taken care of.

At this point I should be hurtling toward a point and then close by bringing it all back around and maybe have a moral to the story. But I am directionless and scattered and I am not going to be able to help you, dear reader, with anything profound to come away with.

My little niece was amazing and precious. I marveled at how she wanted to pull those tubes out of her nose and I am glad that there are pictures of her without them obstructing her radiant, gorgeous face. I am grateful I had the chance to hold her and sing to her. I will keep singing to her. I think it will help heal broken hearts.

Sing Me to Heaven

In my heart’s sequestered chambers
Lie truths stripped of poet’s gloss
Words alone are vain and vacant
And my heart is mute

In response to aching silence
Memory summons half-heard voices
And my soul finds primal eloquence
And wraps me in song
Wraps me in song

If you would comfort me
Sing me a lullaby
If you would win my heart
Sing me a love song
If you would mourn me
And bring me to God

Sing me a requiem
Sing me to heaven

Touch in me
All love and passion
Pain and pleasure
Touch in me
Grief and comfort
Love and passion
Pain and pleasure

Sing me a lullaby
A love song
A requiem
Love me, comfort me
Bring me to God

Sing me a love song
Sing me to heaven

-Jane Griner

Mathematical Musings

I've never liked math or been especially good at it and recently I've discovered that there are lots of types of math that I also do not like and am inept at working through.

Airport Math (also known sometimes as Time Zone Math)
This isn't that difficult but when you've been flying all night across the country it becomes a bit more challenging. However, I did observe others having a lot more trouble with this math than I, while studying their boarding passes and wondering aloud if the time difference was already calculated into the arrival time. It is people, it is. The airlines take into account the stupidity of the masses and do this math. It is the one thing for which they can be trusted to complete successfully.

Hospital Math
My niece is in the NICU until she gains enough weight for heart surgery. They measure her weight in grams. They measure her nutrition intake in 'cc's'. They do not convert these measurements for those of us who have not embraced the metric system. It's unfortunate that this is the case because hospitals usually mean crisis and levels of emotional distress. Math is the last thing anyone wants to do.

Misc. Math
Of course there's the usual stuff, Tip Math, Checkbook Math and the ever popular Leap Year Math. But I don't really have much to say about any of those. I carry a tip card, bank online and since my birthday isn't on February 29th, it's May 17th, Leap Year doesn't concern me.

Observations From the Field Revisited

I'm tired.

I'm tired of those stupid infomercials. I'm tired of the wind. I'm tired of country music. I'm tired of getting up early every morning. I'm tired of Roseanne Barr.
I'm tired of old people knocking rock music. (note: Did Hitler or Vlad the Impaler or any of those guys listen to rock?) I'm tired of TV evangelists.

I'm tired of microwave ovens. I'm tired of "fast food". I'm tired of Rap music. (Is it really music? I enjoy a little Beastie Boys every now and then but it just seems like rhyming to me. They don't sing or anything)
I'm tired of the cold. I'm tired of my fish. I'm tired of VH1.

I'm tired of Los Angeles. I'm tired of California. I'm tired of money. I'm tired of politicians. I'm tired of people telling me to get my hair cut. I'm tired of driving.

I'm tired of socks. I'm tired of shoes. I'm tired of clothes. I'm tired of Mexican food. I'm tired of the color purple. I'm tired of Bon Jovi. I'm tired of Fall Out Boy. I'm tired of clocks.

I'm tired of Time magazine. I'm tired of pencils and pens. I'm tired of Pat Sajak. I'm tired of Garfield. (I miss Peanuts) I'm tired of Ellen, I'm tired of The View, I'm tired of Oprah. I'm tired of Yogi Bear. I'm tired of computers.

I'm tired of power tools. I'm tired of playing checkers naked in the rain. I'm tired of wax. I'm tired of crayons. I'm tired of rulers. I'm tired of AIDS. I'm tired of Batman.

I'm tired of paper. I'm tired of the 21st century. I'm tired of electricity. I'm tired of McDonald's. I'm tired of wood. I'm tired of cats. I'm tired of staples. I'm tired of water.

I'm tired of birds. I'm tired of the letter 'K'. I'm tired of eggs. I'm tired of dustcovers. I'm tired of Socialism. I'm tired of adhesives. I'm tired of rich people. I'm tired of skin. I'm tired of mail. I'm tired of ties.

I'm tired of bananas. I'm tired of people on bicycles who seem to think that we, the motorists, are only thinking of their safety. I'm tired of Freddy Krueger. I'm tired of telephones. I'm tired of mustard. I'm tired of pork.

I'm tired of verbs. I'm tired of Madonna. I'm tired of Nebraska.

And I'm tired of this.

...I Am Precious, Could I Be Your Girl...

The really cool thing about artists not having buckets of commercial success is when they appear at a local bookstore and you get to have one on one time with them.

I've loved Jann Arden's music for the last 15 years and although I did get to see her show and meet her briefly in Boulder, CO in 1993 (for free no less!), last Friday was even more special as I was able to chat with Jann after her short set and talk about songwriting. She gave me a few insights and offered her assistance should I be so inclined.

She also chatted and shook hands with everone arriving for the 'show' beforehand. She's a gem and it's really nice to meet people you admire and have them be so very cool.

Standing on Shakey Ground

If it's not firetrucks or a spinning, troubled mind, keeping me from restful slumber it's an earthquake. That's right, a lovely 4.5 that shook for a good little while a few nights ago. (The big yellow square in the picture)

I am happy to report it caused no damage and all is well. In fact, it was really cool!

Fire Trucks Came to My Apartment

7/18 - 3:20AM

I was roused from slumber by sirens as they stopped in the street in front of my building.

I saw flames as I peered out the bedroom window, prompting me to find proper attire and investigate.

The pool house was on fire. Flames to the tree line.

Based on these pictures of the aftermath, fire personnel arrived in time.

Lacking a Good Title

Prodigal Daughter

I spent all the money, I spent all the money
Got nothing to show, got nothing to show for it
So tell me the story, tell me the story again
The one where I find my way home in the end
There's love and forgiveness, there's wine and there's water

I am the prodigal daughter

I am searching the heavens, I'm living in hell
I've squandered the blessing, I am the never do well
I walked on a wire, I tried every trick that I dared
Broke every promise to whoever cared
Burned all my bridges, like a lamb to the slaughter

I am the prodigal daughter

I have yet to see grace
Or true mercy face to face
Through a glass, not a trace
So I am out of the race

And I'll never go back, they'll not see my face again
I'm not like my brothers, and god knows I'm not like them
So you can tell me the story, it makes no difference to me
So the blind man can walk and the lame man can see
The party's still over, the wine's turned to water

I am the prodigal daughter

Have a listen at www.jonathabrooke.com

I Can't Live Without...

...well, I could probably, but I really don't want to.

In order of importance:

#3 - I guess I would need to have strawberries with this too.















#2 - This is my favorite thing for dinner. Water is the first ingredient so it aids in hydration.















#1 - There is no other and anyone who tries to pass off Del Monte or Hunt's, or the red vinegar water in the McDonald's packets, or any organic crap, as being equal to this, THE food from the gods, well, the punishment should be severe. Accept no other!



As You Were.

P.S. A subscription to this blog will send notfication of new posts! It's easy and tastes yummy!

P.P.S. Cell phone cameras will be the death of us. But aren't they fun?

Climb Over Trees and Skip Over Rocks...

Extra points if you can figure out what song that came from with only the following hint: Their album came out in 1992 and the song was only 2 minutes long. Oh and they sued a popular Fox TV show because they used the band's name as the name of the show.

Green Mountain Summit - Boulder, Colorado