A month in the life of thousands of bloggers... the final day of NaBloPoMo 2006
Wow. We've made it to the last day of NaBloPoMo -- 30 posts in 30 days. It turns out that it can be done. (But have you heard the collective "Phew!" resonating out here in blog land?) I don't think I've ever noted what I meant to at the very beginning, that the whole "PoMo" part of the acronym gives me the giggles, because in my little world of literary geekdom, that translates into "post-modernism." Which no, is not giggle-worthy unto itself, but it has to do with the time a grad school class assignment got a little out of hand, turning into a rather heated (and possibly bitter? :)) debate about "inside or outside of the canon?" and if I recall correctly, it was used in the context of a comeback, as in, "You [expletive deleted] PoMo!" However, I'm going to guess that you had to be there. And thus concludes my paragraph about what "PoMo" means to me. La la la.
I'd like to thank Rashenbo for including me in the honourable mentions, out of the over 200 S-blogs, and to everyone who has stopped by here to read. I'm honoured. Particularly because I know the posts haven't necessarily been all that riveting as of late. What I've only mentioned in passing is that I was pretty under the weather and hella sleepy for a good chunk of this month, with a combo of two prescription drugs making me totally looped. The first night I was on them, I got dizzy, and happened to be watching the Rick Mercer Report at the time. When it got to the segment where he was on the different diving boards, I literally had to cover my head and look away from the TV, because otherwise I would have fallen right off the couch. (A reminder: I'm the girl who Dristan knocks unconscious, and who can't handle the supposedly "non-drowsy" Claritin. Real drugs? Hahahahaha.) I have been the very embodiment of space cadet for the last little while, and am way, way, waaaaaay behind on answering e-mails and getting a few things done.
He of Limes and Maria, if you're reading: I will talk to you soon. And yay, Kell, for your e-mail this morning (and me having the chance to reply!) because otherwise you'd be on that list too, along with about seven other people who probably don't read this.
Also? I am digging this online Christmas shopping thing. Yay Internet, and yay for actually being on top of the Christmas shopping for once in the last gazillion years. Last year I remember not being able to even think about it until the second week of December, because I was swamped beyond any prior definition I'd ever had of swamped. This year? There's been time to think about things and order what I wouldn't be likely to find in a store located here. I like this way of approaching it much better! And, with any luck, anything I'm picking up at stores, I will think to get in the next week, and then I can avoid the craziness.
I hope everyone has a great last day of November. FYI, now that I've posted every day this month, I'm taking the entire month of December off. Kidding! The posting won't be as frequent, though.
"What I need is a good defense, cos I'm feeling like a criminal..."
Hmm. I was going to write this letter-style, but then I realized I'd have to Internet publish the acronym of the association whose name I fear to type here in case they have a Google searching army and it results in me having to surrender Buster, my video iPod (you only think I'm kidding). I was reading an article published on Prison Planet that somebody sent me today, and I really, really have to question the phrasing of something. If it's an actual quote, then lord help us all, and said association really needs to figure out some wording. (And if not, then someone really needs to re-write that part of the article.) This is the article I'm talking (writing?) about. The phrase that caused me to stop and say, "She says pardon? Do they realize what that actually means, technically speaking?" was the part about "criminaliz[ing] all Internet file sharing of any kind as copyright infringement." Now, I have no problem with paying for music downloads -- I am a frequent customer of the iTunes Canada store. As a professional web developer and scrutinizer of the English language/unintended sentence meanings, though, that particular way of putting it raises a few questions that perhaps have not been considered. Which is why I stop and say, that can't be for real.
Here's why: the big issue I have is that in order to view any web site of any sort -- in fact, this very page right here -- technically requires "Internet file sharing." (I'm sure most of you realize this, but apparently some don't quite get that... so please forgive my explanation!) To view my blog, for instance, HTML, CSS, and image files must all be "shared." There is data transfer and exchange, and are computers communicating with each other. If this file "sharing" wasn't happening, you wouldn't be seeing this page. So under that phrasing, viewing this or any web page would be considered a criminal act. This doesn't even get into all the legal files posted for download by companies and others (governments, etc.) in PDF, PowerPoint, or other formats.
Specific is good. Otherwise? Dudes. Duuuuuuuuuudes. That surely would be the end of the Internet, now wouldn't it? ;) (No more Pogo? No more Jonathan Cainer? And no more MySpace or YouTube? Yeah, that last one just might start a revolution. ;))
Pico Rates the Music, vol. 1, no. 2 (the Juke Kartel review)
When we last left our favourite four-legged reviewer, he was giving the paws up to The Panic Channel. This week, Pico lends his ears (and paws) to two songs by Juke Kartel: "Throw It Away" and "Firesign." It seems that this music-loving furball with excellent taste is a Juke Kartel fan, which is a good thing, seeing how we share the same living space. A musical showdown with your four-month-old puppy would not a good scenario make. Believe me, under that fluffy, sweet exterior, he can be plenty sassy when he wants to be. And for the next two or three months, at least, he has the distinct advantage of razor sharp puppy teeth, coupled with his breed's blessing of having springs for legs. In other words: let him have the tunes he likes. It keeps the peace.
As previously mentioned on this blog, Pico has shown a definite positive interest in "Throw It Away." He had been on his usual mid-evening-mission to search every nook and cranny of the main floor for cookies, the first time he heard it, as I was surfing JK's MySpace page. He immediately ran over to the laptop, investigating the source of the song before it even got to the first "Wa oh ah oh ah oh..." He began pawing at the speaker area of the laptop, looking quite happy, and continued to do so until the song was almost over. A definite positive reaction from the pooch!
The other night, I decided to see what he would think of "Firesign," so I queued it up on iTunes. Pico had been laying on a blanket, chewing on his towel, when, as the song approached the chorus, he got up, walked over to the laptop, climbed on top of it (I know, why am I letting him walk all over the computer? What can I say, he's a little bit spoiled, but charming nonetheless. ;)) and pressed his nose as hard as he could against the speaker area, wagging his tail and looking for/sniffing where the music was coming from until almost the end of the song. Last night, when the song began playing, he woke up from his nap and looked around for where the music was coming from, then rolled over into his "happy" position: all four paws up in the air, on his back. I believe that's a higher rating than what he gave The Panic Channel a couple of weeks ago.
So, to the boys from down under: four paws up, or four Milk Bones, and he'll even up it by adding in his new squeaky toy, but only if you throw it for him. Nice work.
(Now, for those who protest "coincidence!" about Pico's reaction to certain songs... it's real, he even has preferences for TV shows. I discovered last weekend that he'll watch hockey games, but as soon as it goes to commercial, he'll go back to what he was doing. See how smart he is? He already knows to ignore the commercials on Canadian television! I wonder if he'd watch them during the Super Bowl? Anyway...)
It is really too bad Pico can't come along to the JK show next week... he may very well be their first "fanpuppy." :)
So. Has anyone else noticed that during the Sens' four-game winning streak, we had our sunshine (or is that Sunshine, capitalized?) back, but now that the streak ended yesterday, the 5-day forecast calls for lots and lots of gray, drizzle and rain? ;)
You know. Just sayin'. Unfortunately for the blog, it's a busy day while also preparing for a busy week, so I haven't been able to get all creative with a new news release. I guess the headline would be something like "Rain 'reigns' again..." But that's okay. Because given the choice between the temperature needed for rain, vs. the temperature needed for snow (ahhhhhh I said it!), I will take the relatively balmy temperatures we've been having, any day!
Also, note out to Julie: yes, I've been slacking in the web surfing department since getting Pico, but where did your site go? Are you still in Oz?
Why the floors aren't being mopped until later... :)
Hee. The funny moment of the day: Pico has a bath. Don't worry, I have just as much water dripping from me as he does! He kind of learned how to hop out of the tub...
"WATCH OUT FOR DEER!!!!$(&@$(&@(&@(!!!!!!!@@@@!!!"
Heh. :) I can't explain that, you really had to be there.
Fly by posting today... we were at the Lukas Rossi show this afternoon. He is an awesome performer, I have to say. During Jenny Galt's set, however, a brawl broke out literally right next to us (had to run to avoid people being shoved into us and the flying fists)... gah, don't even ask, all I can say is there's a reason I've been doing my Christmas shopping online! Can we say time for a vacation, North America, to chill, unwind, relax, and not get so tightly wound that it ends up in crazy, not even drunken brawls, when it's not even Stanley Cup playoff time nor anything to do with hockey?!
I have to go now, back tomorrow for day twenty-six!
Today, just a short post, but with an important message or reminder, I think. (Particularly as we head into the Christmas shopping season, heh.) This weekend, remember to smile, to laugh, to share happiness and love. Relax a little, enjoy life and the world. My girlie S made a wonderful observation in an e-mail this morning. She said that Pico has good morals -- life for him is about playing and snuggling. It's so true!
Pico and I send good weekend wishes to everyone. :) Happy Friday!
Annnnnnd... welcome to NaBloPoMo day twenty-three. This is officially the week where I'll later claim "the drugs made me do it" (legal, people, legal, but did you know that Shoppers Drug Mart now gives you pagers?) even though I'm not entirely sure at this point just what the drugs made me do. But, as S put it earlier, I could probably be my own comedy show.
Doo doo dooooooooooo... okay, that written music doesn't actually capture the ominous music I wanted. Humour me, and go with ominous.
I think a fun post for the sake of posting (as this NaBloPoMo month of November is all about, after all) would be to devise a list of possible things the usually close-to-Photographic-Memory-Girl has done over the last couple of days but not realized, or things that you could post while "under the influence." Except as I finish this sentence, the mere thought of a brand new thought process has the gray matter going "uhhhnnnnnnnnnnn" and hey, look at that, ten minutes have passed while it relaxed all zen-like into the land of Space Cadet Theatre, and no. That isn't happening.
Pico, for his part, is making puppy noises that seem to be demanding, "Snap out of it, woman. Do you not see the squeaky toy?" Meanwhile, aliens could land in the living room and I'm sure I wouldn't notice until after they'd given themselves a tour of the kitchen, served up a five-course meal capped off with some martinis, paraded up and down the stairs in a conga line, and let themselves out the front door. At which point I might blink once or twice, and wonder how the martini glasses hopped out of the cupboard, didn't I already clean the kitchen, and dude, where's my Cointreau?
Um, yeah. I won't remember posting this until I read it tomorrow. La la la.
BUT, I do remember this: to my American friends, happy Thanksgiving. (Except now I'm thinking Sarah McLachlan and "Cinder Calhoon" and the very first song I learned how to play on the guitar... points to you if you know the answer.)
Me, on the phone to my mom: "How can you tell if a dog has a concussion?"
Heh and OI. Big, uppercase letters emphasis on that last one. Poor puppy. A big noise that can only be described as "THUNK" is not what you want to hear from behind you, when there is a coffee table behind you, and in front of the coffee table, a couch your puppy was trying to jump onto from underneath the coffee table.
The problem is that the coffee table and end tables are all glass, which is a little difficult for puppies to see or understand the concept of, particularly when they have long hair that covers their eyes. I think it's time to start clipping his hair back now, with an elastic or a barrette.
Sometimes it is kind of like having a toddler. Poor little guy. For anyone who may be worried, he seems fine. We were outside after that and he was bouncing around and greeting people and he wants to play and eat, he just seems a little wary of the coffee table now.
My dad may be right, that since our family vacation in Acapulco when I was 13, I've never been the same when it comes to winter and cold temperatures in general.
I've noticed that here in Canada, for many people, the definition of "warm" when it comes to the temperature outside is a relative thing. For example, tonight, someone asked me "Is it still warm outside?" Our high today was 2°C. That's 35 or 36°F. Some of my friends to the south will take a look at that temperature and think to themselves, "Warm? No one in their right mind would ever consider that warm," or, as Air Farce once so aptly put it, that we're all a bunch of "drunks on skidoos." If you think I'm making this up, I know someone in Texas who thinks 70°F is cold.
I'm not saying that this isn't warm, relatively speaking. I mean, I'd much rather it be the whole 2 degrees that it is, than the -7 degrees that it was last night. (And, really, it is far preferable to what I call "Januaryitis.") Yet, if it was even a September day and only 2°C, no one here would be calling that warm. So this is where we Canadians get confusing.
Personally? I think my definition of warm has been much closer to that of the southern California definition of warm, since I was 13 years old. That is, there is one definition for it -- a certain temperature range -- and it is not a sliding, relative scale.
Which raises the next question, in honour of my Kevin and Sarah's upcoming X-Files marathon (which, by the way, has to be the best idea of 2006): how do you define normal? :)
Sometimes, when it's not someone I work with and they don't know me, when I'm preparing a bowl of Rice Krispies in the kitchen at noon, I can see the odd look being cast in my direction by one of they, the Normal Lunch Food Consumers. So I may have a thing for breakfast food. There were raisins and an apple to go with it. And I had an egg as part of actual breakfast. And there are usually meat and veggies, salad, etc. at dinner. There is balance.
I just like cereal. A lot. Cereal with bananas? Even better. Cereal with bananas and apples? Divine. And if this cereal happens to be Just Right cereal? Breakfast food euphoria, at lunchtime.
This is the key to a happy life with me... having breakfast food on hand. :)
Speaking of food, this reminded me. A friend had told some of us about this months ago, so I went back to Amazon.com to see if it was still there, and indeed, the fun continues. For some reason, the Amazon Grocery sells milk. As for why, that is something that is still beyond my comprehension. There's something giggle-worthy about being able to buy milk through Amazon. Apparently a lot of other people thought so, too. I didn't think it would continue, but oh, how you must read. (Scroll down to customer reviews.) You know that anything customers tag with keywords such as "horror," "evil," "wtf," and "global warming" with over 800 reviews has to be an entertaining read. The reviews I remember as being my favourites are probably somewhere in the 100th-300th review range.
This weekend? The wine while watching Click with Karen and Aaron last night. Heh. No, there is no hangover, although Pico waking up at 6:30 a.m. and wanting to play fetch was a little bit rough. ;) I think it was revenge for my rather buzzed rendition of Rock Star Supernova's "Be Yourself (And 5 Other Cliches)" that I serenaded him with last night.
Seriously, though, how is it Sunday already? And how have I not accomplished anything I said (to myself) that I would this weekend? Not that taking two days to just chill is a bad thing... actually, it's a rare thing. So maybe a very low-key weekend, playing with the puppy and hanging out with friends and not worrying about anything like what I should be writing, or studying for my work French classes (or planning... as in the form of a presentation), or errands that need to be done, was good for me.
Other slacker-like things I wish to accomplish today:
- playing some GameCube, because I haven't in a very long time
- finishing the reassembly of my exercise bike now that I've moved it upstairs
- a yoga kriya (okay, that's not a slacker thing, but it also isn't getting writing accomplished)
- making something with a lot of apples in it, to feed the addiction
- figuring out the rest of my Christmas shopping, which, yes, is well underway
- making the house smell yummy with some kind of combination of cloves and cinnamon
Taking over the world can wait until tomorrow. So can the ironing.
Can you believe we're already at NaBloPoMo day nineteen? Eleven more posts to go.
And I don't feel like posting, so I won't post much today...
You can sing my post title to the tune of the Scissor Sisters' "Don't Feel Like Dancing"... it's fun, really.
So, it's Saturday. Gray (shocking, really!), but not raining. (Yet.) I reaaaallllly don't have much to post today. I could make you all a list titled "The things I probably should be doing but am not" but no... and that's okay, Saturdays are good for relaxing. Plus the lurverly sinus stuff is making it completely possible for me to stare at things for hours upon end without realizing it, soooo...
A-ha. I will leave you all with a challenge. Anyone who can interpret my weekend horoscope in a way that doesn't make me go "jigga-WHA?" wins my sincerest gratitude:
An extremely encouraging outlook suggests the chance to wipe the slate clean and start again in an area of life where, lately, things have become both too complicated and too stale. It also implies that the sky is blessing you with impressive powers of persuasion. Within reason, now, it is possible to talk just about anyone into just about anything. Do use your power wisely over the next few days. And don't invert it. Avoid talking yourself into something you'd be better getting talked out of!
- Jonathan Cainer, Taurus horoscope for Saturday, November 18, 2006.
Oi. Oi oi oi. Dear sinus on the left side: why why why why why? Can we call a truce?
Granted, it's not a sinus infection. I've been fortunate enough to not have one since 2000, which is pretty impressive, given the genetic obstacles/odds surrounding that. :) But it is wreaking bodily havoc, making me super sleepy and killing my appetite like nobody's business. The only real food I actually have any kind of desire for today (that doesn't make me think "ugh") is an In-N-Out burger. No, not just a regular hamburger, an In-N-Out burger. Which I've had all of once in my life. Which, incidentally, I can only get in California, Arizona, or Nevada. Um. Slight problem there. Of about 2800 miles. (Well, that's a southern California location I looked up. I suppose the ones in Nevada would be a tiny bit closer.) But one day when I own a private jet, I'm telling you...
This week, just a very brief Pico Rates the Music note, until there's something he can do a full review of. He is a Toby Rand/Juke Kartel fan. Before the song even got to "Oh oh oh oh oh oh" he had stopped his intensive cookie search and came running for the laptop, pawing at the speaker area and looking quite happy. Smart puppy! :)
And, under the "I can't believe how rude people can sometimes be" file (aka the "Can we round these people up and ship them somewhere, so the rest of us can enjoy positive energy?" file), an incident in the cafeteria a little while ago, where someone was asking what the special was (the name of it didn't indicate what it actually was), and then, not wanting that, asked about a chicken burger, not realizing that those are only served as specials, and not on a regular basis. She was a little confused about an answer, and was asking the woman who was taking orders about something, when the woman in line next to her (who, I might add, was not ordering food and was with someone who had already ordered), blurted out to the person taking orders something to the effect of, "Why don't you move on to the next person while she decides what she's going to order, rather than spend another hour answering her questions?"
Wow, woman. Chill. None of us are in a rush (and everyone in line seemed to agree that no one is in a rush). It's Friday, and it's lunchtime. The person taking orders was NOT impressed. In my opinion, you get enough of that kind of attitude while Christmas shopping. Why people must be miserable and then take it out on others when it's not even affecting them is beyond me. All she succeeded in doing was to cause several people to either glare at her or look at her with utter disbelief, as she stood there, nose up, lips pursed, scowling. And a good weekend to you too. Just wow.
That's about all I've got for today, NaBloPoMo day seventeen. I'll be back tomorrow with a hopefully more inspired (and more awake) day eighteen. Happy Friday to everyone.
New regional study proposed (by me) to determine if playing in traffic is safer for pedestrians
I wish I was kidding. Well, I am about the study proposal, but not about wondering if just standing in the middle of the road, walking or cycling at the yellow line, would be safer than the sidewalk, side of the road, and/or wherever cyclists are supposed to cycle these days (I'm not the person to ask).
We have a different form of natural selection here in Ottawa and the Valley. It's called "Can you avoid getting hit by a bus/snowplow/taxi/diplomat DUI/(insert anything I've forgotten here)..." Or, the more abbreviated title, "Survivor: the streets of Ottawa." Although, I have to say, perhaps we're getting a little bit better. We did have that one year where a vehicle-person collision seemed more likely on the sidewalks than on the roads.
Last night? Cyclist dies after getting hit by bus. I tried searching the CBC news archives to see if I could easily find links to stories about the other incidents I referred to above, but they can't be found too quickly, so apologies to anyone who doesn't understand why I'm posting about this!
If there's one person I consider a comedic genius, bang-on with the intelligent sarcasm, it's Rick Mercer. He's been making me laugh since the days of his "Streeters" on This Hour Has 22 Minutes -- my particular favourite ended with something like, "...well, then, we'll just erase our name off the map, and they'll NEVER FIND US." I'd give you the context, but it might offend a few of my readers and friends, and really, you'd have to see the whole thing. :) One or two people who read will remember that, though.
I read Rick Mercer's blog frequently, because it always guarantees to amuse me. Today, though, he is speaking of a good cause: Spread the Net. In his words:
In Africa over a million kids die of malaria every year. That’s pretty overwhelming. It was Sachs however that told us that it really doesn’t need to be that way. The answer is simple, tangible, old fashioned and cost effective. One of the best tools to fight Malaria is a mosquito bed net. The net goes over the bed and usually two or three kids will sleep under the thing. The net is treated with insecticide and will continue to do its job for over five years. If you buy a kid a net, there’s a pretty good chance you can save one or two lives. And the cost? Ten bucks.
That's what Spreadthenet.org is all about. If you go to spreadthenet.org you can give ten bucks and a mosquito bed net will be purchased and distributed for free in the first two targeted countries -- Liberia and Rwanda.
And really can anyone think of a better way for Canadians to lend a hand -- Malaria is spread by mosquitoes. If there is a war that Canadians can get behind it’s the war on mosquitoes. We spend enough of our time coming up with ways to kill them at home, let’s spread the love in Africa.
- from Rick Mercer's blog, "Spread the Net," Nov. 14, 2006
For the full post and all of the information, see his entry titled "Spread the Net."
Step 1: While at a pet store getting nail clippers for your puppy, spot a display of "all natural dog chews" at the counter, and purchase one -- in this case, a small, very hard, bagel chew.
Step 2: Give it to your puppy to chew on and play with.
Step 3: After he plays with it for awhile, tossing it around the room and pouncing on it, watch him get mad at it because he knows it smells like food but doesn't "work" like other food.
I am discovering that this may be the messiest chew toy on the planet, though. ;) Still, it was too funny to hear Pico barking and barking at this toy as he stared it down, because he so rarely ever barks at anything.
Thunder Bay, Ontario -- Northwestern Ontario correspondent Bubble reported "proof of life" for Happy Sunshine yesterday afternoon. Residents of the NWO region were allowed a four-hour glimpse of the missing, reassuring the people of Ottawa that Ms. Sunshine is still among the living.
So why was proof of life given in Northwestern Ontario? "It's typical of Mr. Rain's sense of humour," Mother Nature explained. "Northwestern Ontario is usually at the mercy of Ottawa for everything. He probably thought it would be funny if, for once, Ottawa was dependent on the region to relay important information, and to have no choice but to trust that what they say is true."
With the extended forecast showing nothing but gray and rain throughout the rest of the week, Ottawa residents should not expect to see Ms. Sunshine for themselves.
"Unless, of course, the Ottawa Senators win their game against the Montreal Canadiens tomorrow night," Ms. Nature said. "A win for the team might have Mr. Rain feeling a bit more cooperative."
Rain holds Sunshine hostage: demands return of spring or winning streak by Ottawa Senators as ransom, "whichever comes first"
Ottawa, Ontario -- Mother Nature had a chilling message for Bytown residents this morning, putting a damper on all weekend outdoor activities.
Ms. Nature, who had been mediating the ongoing negotiations between Happy Sunshine and Rain Cloud (alias Rain Storm), announced that all conciliatory action to allow Ms. Sunshine equal airtime has come to a startling halt.
"Ms. Sunshine, who had been seen by residents earlier this week, has disappeared," Ms. Nature said at a press conference this morning. "Mr. Rain is taking full responsibility for the kidnapping, and has put forward two either/or ransom demands: bringing back spring, or a winning streak by the Ottawa Senators hockey team -- whichever comes first."
Mr. Rain is well-known for his aversion to winter, which is fast approaching the region. During the colder months, he usually migrates south to a warmer climate, much the same as Canadian snowbirds.
"Tighter security measures at the U.S. border were causing difficulties with this winter's travel plans," Ms. Nature explained. "Friends say he just 'lost it.' Resigned to staying in Canada this winter, he either wanted to maintain his prolific profile -- necessitating the prevention of winter and transfer of power to his half-brother, Snow Storm -- or at the very least be able to watch some decent hockey, to pass the hours."
At press time, details of Mr. Rain's whereabouts were unknown, but Ms. Nature warned that ransom demands for Ms. Sunshine were "not open for negotiation."
Reese Witherspoon. Why in the name of all that is sane would anyone (allegedly) cheat on Reese Witherspoon? Oi. (If he did in fact do that, but I will continue saying "allegedly" just because, while I am nowhere near anything resembling the media, you just never know who is reading. Trust me. I've previously angered clowns. No, really. Literal, actual clowns. There was a little too much Chiron in Capricorn that year.)
So, it's Friday evening, and day ten of NaBloPoMo. I sit here, having just had dinner, and preparing for the rest of the night, wondering what I can post in the midst of all this without missing deadline. After a week of work, three French classes, taking care of and playing with Pico, daily blogs, homework and studying, these are my thoughts of the day: I've never blogged for the sake of blogging before -- never had the pressure of a mandatory daily post. NaBloPoMo has allowed me to appreciate bloggers like Heather B. Armstrong (Dooce) even more than I already did. And it constantly challenges where the line of public vs. private is when it comes to my life.
Right now, though, that life is beckoning. A good night to all, and see you again here in blog land tomorrow.
A MySpace writer friend posted this as a bulletin yesterday. The author is Judith Orloff, M.D. I find the words very true, and very inspiring.
Positive Energy
~ Judith Orloff, M.D.:
Certain people give off positive energy,
others negative.
It's the quality of someone's being,
a measure of love with which they've led their lives.
It also reflects the inner work they've done,
their efforts to heal anger, hatred, or self-loathing,
which poison us like toxic fumes.
Energetically these linger,
precluding joy from shining through.
It's important to grasp, however,
that once you undertake the process of healing,
it changes the quality
of even the negativity that remains.
Don't be too hard on yourself
-we're all works in progress.
SIGNS OF POSITIVE ENERGY IN PEOPLE
They exude an inviting sense of heart,
compassion, and support.
You intuitively feel safe, relaxed,
wanting to get closer.
They emanate a peaceful glow.
You feel better around them.
Your energy and optimism increase.
SIGNS OF NEGATIVE ENERGY IN PEOPLE
You experience a sense of being demeaned,
constricted, or attacked.
You intuitively feel unsafe, tense,
or on guard.
You sense prickly, off-putting vibes.
You can't wait to get away from them.
Your energy starts to fizzle.
You may feel beleaguered or ill.
I'm a big fan of being proactive
in generating positive energy.
The First Prescription's formula for success:
Do whatever makes your inner light burn brighter.
In other words, try to treat yourself
and everyone else with love.
It's a constant process of tuning in:
finding people who support your spirit,
trusting your gut-centered decisions to guide you.
Then you won't end up in a relationship
that looks right but feels wrong.
Or miss the chance to meet a loving man or woman
because he or she doesn't fit some preconception.
When you're with trying people,
aim for the high road;
find common ground,
rather than inflame negativity.
The care with which you approach life
is intuitively evident in your energy field.
We can feel each other's love:
that's the great attraction.
When you pick up your phone and it's playing either a radio or TV station, you know it might be time to call it a night... which is precisely what happened last night. That's not so bizarre as it sounds, seeing how it also happened to Karen and Aaron a few weeks ago! Hearing about it is not quite the same as experiencing it, though. It was an oddly fascinating experience, because once I realized that hey, there are voices coming from the phone receiver and I haven't dialled anyone yet, I was compelled to listen. It was kind of like a direct line to another world somewhere. By this morning, it had been fixed, and while the dial tone is not quite as attention-grabbing, it is certainly a lot more useful.
Jennifer's note: This really did happen last night. I'd swear on my video iPod and entire mp3/m4a/m4p collection. I've known since the first week I had Pico that he enjoys music, whether it be a digital cable music station (which is usually the rock station), the radio, or whatever is playing on the stereo or on iTunes. He also likes to be sung to. Now, though, he seems to be expressing opinions on just what greets his ears... thus I present Pico's new column on my blog, where he critiques the music of the day.
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In today's Pico Rates the Music column, the soon-to-be-17-weeks-old Shih Tzu looks at an unnamed indie artist and a song overheard on their MySpace profile (in fairness and to protect the innocent, they won't be named), vs. Dave Navarro's latest project, The Panic Channel, and the song from his MySpace profile, "She Won't Last."
Song #1: Unnamed song, by an unnamed indie artist. Pico had been chilling on the floor, napping it up. I was surfing some MySpace profiles -- a song here, a song there. This song, however, must have infiltrated his dream, where he found it just that grating. About a minute and a half into the song, he lifted his head to stare in my direction, with a LOOK that seemed both disgusted and beseeched me to please, turn that off and let him sleep in peace. He got his way with that one. Pico's rating: four paws down, and I'm sure he wants to club me with one of them for so rudely interrupting his sleep.
Song #2: A few minutes later, I was visiting Dave Navarro's MySpace site, where the song "She Won't Last" began to play. It seems Pico liked this one, as it prompted him to grab a toy, roll over on his back, and start playing happily while listening to the music. The Panic Channel makes for a happy Pico. Four paws up, guys, or four Milk Bones.
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Tune in next week for the second installment of Pico Rates the Music, where we go surfing more MySpace Music profiles and the Apple iTunes store to see what makes the cut with this music lovin' pup.
Christmas people. Christmas, Christmas, Christmas. I hear your screams. Yes, I am one of THOSE people. The people who actually like Christmas. I love the smells, the decorations, the holiday music... and this year, getting my shopping done early, I hope. I think the only year that's happened since moving here was Christmas 2003, the one year until now that I wasn't in the middle of some kind of academic insanity.
I almost want to set up my tree NOW. Heh heh. Sick, isn't it?
Growing up, Christmas was always a pretty big thing at my house. My parents decorated the house and front lawn with displays and tons of lights à la Griswald, and every year we watched National Lampoon's Christmas vacation. My tree decorating style (see this post from last year, with a picture of my tree) comes from years of practice decorating trees with my mom.
This year, the goal is to get all my Christmas shopping done before December is here. It's already beyond crazy at the malls and stores on weekends right now. Time to do some catalogue, flyer and web surfing to start being inspired.
And just in case you think I'm the only one who could possibly already be thinking of a holiday that's a month and a half away... there's already been a "save the date" inquiry for a friend's Christmas party, and talks of cider and good times.
Put away the leftover Halloween candy, folks. There's only 50 days (and 49 shopping days) left.
(Bwa ha ha... I may be a brave soul for posting this. I predict an inbox full of e-mail "screamers" by tomorrow afternoon. P.S. I may also have had the thought to go find some holiday scented candles today... which is grounds for insanity only in the respect that it means I'll be out shopping in the middle of Sunday shopping havoc.)
And I'm outta here, destined for Carleton Place, very shortly. No worries, Kathleen, I am not bringing California Oak Chardonnay. Hee. The paragraph that made me laugh the most this week was from an e-mail from Kathleen sent about her housewarming, about how while there would be other munchies and drinks, there would be no California Oak Chardonnay, as they wouldn't want to get voted out of the neighbourhood. And pretty much NO ONE is going to understand that, but that is the beauty of good friends/former roommates, and inside jokes you will have for all time. Hugs, K.
I was just thinking about this a few minutes ago -- a comparison between this weekend, and the same weekend last year. One year ago, I was frantically working on a seminar I had to give, and my paper, with anything regarding Christmas still weeks and weeks from surfacing in my mind. And today? Today so far has been puppy stuff, cleaning, cooking, errands, and now out for the night. Still incredibly busy, just in a very different way. Tomorrow is French homework and writing time. Weekends are way, waaaaay too short.
I know, perhaps not the most interesting NaBloPoMo blog, but there's been lots to do, and I have places to go, people to see, and a puppy for them to play with.
It's Friday, so in my world of NaBloPoMo, that must mean it's time for a Pico update. The puppy in question is climbing onto the laptop keyboard and bopping my hand with his toy between throws as I type this, so forgive any typos. ;) In his language, this is politeness for "I am not sharing any of your attention with that infernal machine, so c'mon, PLAY would ya? Just look at how cute I am!" So cute, that at the vet's office, strangers off the street who see him through the glass come in to pet him and say hello. True story. It happened two hours ago while we were there for his vaccinations. Pico is now fully vaccinated, good little furbaby.
If you're not a pet owner, you're probably not going to understand why a formerly normal-behaving person would, at 5:30 in the morning, suddenly be inspired to make up and sing a song to her dog that goes as follows: "Who's a meatball sandwich? *Pico* is a meatball sandwich..." Well, you'd have to hear it. And for the life of me, I can't remember the baby bumblebee song. Lyrics, anyone? You can send them to jenn AT jenniferfarwell DOT com.
He now understands what "kisses" means, but trying to rationalize with a 16-week-old puppy about why there will be no Milk Bones until later and to finish his dinner is time that could be better spent singing him the meatball sandwich song. I suppose anything about "starving puppies in _____ (random country)" would also be lost on him.
Here are two new pictures of the cutie-pie. He makes the world a sunshiney place. :) Happy Friday, everyone.
I am officially calling a time out for the next 24 hours.
Yesterday? Yesterday was all kinds of crazy. The day from I don't even know where. Somewhere with an extremely warped sense of humour, that's for sure. By the time I left my work French class and headed home for the day, I was ready for the couch, a blanket, a glass of wine, and a laser light in hand for entertaining Pico. Now about that last item...
When your ten-minute trip to a nearby dollar store for a laser light for your puppy turns into a five-store excursion that suddenly lands you a starring role as French interpreter/translator by pleading request of the employee at store number four, the convenience store that an employee from store number three directed you to... well, this is a teensy glimpse into what preceded just this incident in onslaught proportions throughout the duration of yesterday. When I got home, after making sure I was safely locked into my house from the kookiness of the outside world (see: incident while accessing the parking area of store number five, in which someone with no concept of right-of-way, what stop signs mean, and the fact that I didn't have one, almost drove into my car, although this was not at all surprising given other events of my drive home earlier that evening), armed with not one, but two laser lights for which I almost kissed the helpful employee at the store of laser light gold, the first thing I muttered was, "What moon phase is it?"
Yes, me, Lil Ms. Astrology, actually has no idea what moon phase it is, what conjunctions are happening, what is retrograde, what has stationed direct, where Saturn is these days, etc. at the moment. All areas of my life, personally and professionally, have been a wee bit busy lately. All of this is very good, but suffice it to say, all signs point to chill out at home for an evening, because there is sheer wackiness afoot.
So a time out, I say. If I should for some reason be e-mailing or calling you and I'm not, it's not you. It's me trying to intercept the "exasperation alert" scale, which is currently at code orange. Today is about decompression, as I make a return to calm for tomorrow, looking forward to the weekend, and to K & M's housewarming, yay. :)
The perpetual girl of summer will deny ever writing this later
November 1st, and we all know what that means...
FIVE MORE MONTHS 'TIL APRIL. :) Let the countdown begin. (For the confused, I'm counting down to spring.)
Today, if I play the selective memory card and forget that I was ever outside, from my window here at work with the clear blue sky and sunshine, I can convince myself it's a balmy summer day. Trust me, denial is the way to go. It's a happy place.
However, in the interests of "the glass is half full" and/or catering to temporary insanity and/or blaming it on the cold I am apparently coming down with (thus impeding rational brain function), today I'll make a list of things to look forward to in winter. Ready?
- hot chocolate
- apple cider
- Christmas baking
- Christmas scents
- decorating the Christmas tree (Do I like this holiday? Yeah, it's okay. ;))
- sitting by the fireplace
- renewing my interests in downhill skiing and ice skating
- snowball fights
- snow angels (I must make at least one this year. Yes, I realize I'm 26, thanks.)
- watching Pico eat mouthfuls of snow or get freaked out by snow the first time he sees it (not sure what the reaction will be)
- warm, fuzzy sweaters
Okay, I'll stop. It's kind of sickening, heh. Please note that I am still very muchly a spring and summer girl.
Last night I learned that Pico likes to chase laser lights. He chased one together with Lacey, who is one of Karen and Aaron's cats. After neither of us had many trick-or-treaters, we decided a meeting of Pico and Aaron was in order, along with a meeting of Pico and the cats. Once Lacey figured out that this happy, panting, tail-wagging bundle of fur wasn't a danger, she was cool with him. Yay for new ways to tire out the puppy.
And now? Off to see if the canteen has some Advil Cold & Sinus, after which I should make some peppermint tea before heading to my afternoon work French class. More tomorrow, day two of NaBloPoMo.
