Sunday, December 30, 2012

Max has been eating the bird seed in the snow.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

Random words, Random pictures.

So, I reposted the phone art....(ph-art). When I send pics from my actual phone,  the carrier I have seems to insist on stamping their name all over it....While downloading and uploading the picture from my cell onto the library computer, I discovered that all of the pictures from my prior blogs are still accessible to me. I found a picture of my dog Sir Poopalot...he died this past January. It is so frustrating that almost all of my pictures of him are digitally stored somewhere like old phones or on the web rather than being stuffed into box in the closet like all of the photos I took in the 1990's are stored! I do have one actual picture of him placed in the mirror in the bathroom next to a picture of my cat who has passed on...darn those pets. You get attached to them while they hang around the house doing practically nothing or nothing practically.

It's funny that the pictures from my past two blogs are still around but the words are gone. Just as well. We are all writing in the sand anyway no matter what medium we use. Ink fades. Paper rots. Electronic devices become obsolete.  Spoken word is forgotten. Now don't get all depressed or think I am all depressed. Just making an observation.
Looking at the pictures remind me what I must have written about in the past but sometimes I look at the pictures and wonder. I found a drawing of feet; an Xray and an odd cartoon about a hair style....Hm....Let me re-post them here randomly with no other explanation of their meaning...
( the very bottom of this post is the letter I which is really, really random because I didn't mean for it to be there! Aw fits with the randomness of this post.)


Phone Art.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

drama queen moment

I stand strong, my fingers cold on tiny screws twisting and turning. Finally, I feel it loosen and I know the task will be easier from this point forward, as long as I don't drop anything. It is dark, inky jet black dark because the sun has set and if the moon is out, the clouds have hidden it.
I sigh. I can't give up. I have to do this. The weather may be cold and wet and windy now but if the reports are true, it will only be worse in the morning.
"I must soldier on", I tell myself. I stand tall, proud. I hope the neighbors see me and say to their loved ones "I had no idea she could do this! Look, children and learn!"
I reach up because I must stand just a little bit on my toes to see. Fumble. Fumble. Oh wait there we go. All done. Now I just need to put the metal top back in place. Lining the holes up so the screws fit is not as easy at it looks but I power through and complete the task. I rush back inside to a warm cup of cocoa.
I flip a switch, look outside at the lamppost in the front yard. worked

I changed a light bulb.

Monday, December 17, 2012

Weather Observation:

If it is foggy in the morning when I let the dog out, it will be muddy in the evening. And I will need to mop the floor! I call these Mudoggy days. (Mud + foggy)

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Enough Already....

At first, in spite of the awfulness of the crime , I feel annoyed at the media attention. I get so tired of the news stations and websites practically wetting themselves with excitement over another mass shooting. I particularly dislike when the tragedy is given its own icon in the bottom corner of the tv screen. (yeah.. i am talking about you, ABC!) The icon flashes the name of the tragedy when the news resumes after a commercial break, as if we could forget that a gunman shot 26 or 27 people, 20 of them kids. ( some stations say one number, some stations say a different number, apparently the total number depends  if they count the victim related to the shooter.) I can't help but see it as salacious entertainment rather than sharing the facts of an event. At one point, on the CBS website each news section started with a headline related to the Connecticut Tragedy..
" Entertainers react to...."
" Sports Community reacts to..."
" Politicians speak out about..."

Yeah. We get it. It is sad and it sells. So cram as much coverage as you can into all news stories.

My annoyance just melted into sadness this morning when I heard the story again for the threescore and tenth time. The annoyance was really just hiding the sadness anyway.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

this post is what it is

"It is what it is"

Have you heard someone say that phrase or have you used it?

What the hell does it mean? This is either deeply philosophical or a waste of breath. Funny how it us difficult to know which it is.

The first time I heard "it is what it is" was when I heard a guy at work use it when he explained what he told his girlfriend when she caught him cheating. You can imagine that I took the phrase to have negative connotations after that use of it. Since then, I have heard it used and used it myself in a variety of situations. So, now, I think of it as a throwaway phrase to be used to mean whatever the speaker means it to mean which means the phrase really means nothing..(say that 5 times fast).
Today at work, I told a coworker that during a long tedious meeting, I was fantasizing about becoming a waitress. I emailed my coworker that since I am klutzy I probably wouldn't make a good waitress.
I made a joke that I would probably spill food on customers.
She responded that she had once spilled food on a customer when she was a waitress. She said it wasn't a big deal. "It is what it is"...she said
Well...if I was the person getting dumped on
"what it is" is a mess.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Feed a Child...Not a Childish Political System

I saw a headline this past week that the presidential campaigns spent 2 billion dollars for an election that basically left the country exactly where it was before the campaign started. Hm. No comment....However...FYI

For just a dollar a day $2,000,000,000 could feed this child for 5, 479,452 years.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

you wear those jeans with such passive-aggressive pizazz!

When I was in my late 20's and early 30's which would have been in the 1990's, I had a group of friends who, in retrospect seemed inordinately concerned with "passive-aggressiveness".
"That driver is driving passive-aggressively";
 "I am sorry, was that passive-aggressive?"; "My (choose one: parent, sibling, boyfriend, girlfriend) is SO passive-aggressive!"

 Here was my favorite phrase. I still use it.
"Better passive-aggressive than aggressive-aggressive!"

I lived in the Ann Arbor, MI area in the 90's and I think folks there, God Bless Them,  were highly evolved or liked to think of themselves as highly evolved. They recycled long before it was cool.  They were into therapy long before Dr. Phil hit the airwaves. So, it is no wonder, being that I lived in such a self-analyzing, self-righteous town, that I would have worried about passive-aggressiveness.

I will admit that I probably was passive-aggressive, maybe I still am. However, I always thought the concern for passive-aggressiveness was a mark of a spoiled existence. I am sure that the folks caught in war and violence in Afghanistan, the Congo, Syria, Gaza would LOVE to have their worst problem be how passive-aggressively their sister-in-law spoke to them the other day.
I haven't thought much about passive-aggressiveness since that group of friends broke up. I am not even sure why I am thinking of it now...

Maybe, it has something to do with the "activity committee" at work. We have this committee of folks who collect money and then are supposed to plan events and charity opportunities with the money collected. This past Friday we were supposed to give $5 to wear jeans and the money was to go to the Christmas Family. Well, we had already collected $900 for the family the week before AND we were each to pick a gift to buy for the family on top of that. So, in my opinion, it feels like the activity committee just keeps sucking us dry. They are a bit like the, tax, tax. I and a few other folks in the department rebelled and refused to wear jeans. There was a small group of people who wore the jeans but refused to pay (they were a bit like the Republicans...pout,pout,pout about having to pay.)

Anyway, there was quite an under-current of tension in regards to the jeans and the $5 throughout the department. It felt like one big passive-aggressive party; with each side making snide remarks to the other, then gossiping with their like-minded co-workers.

Sighh...well, like I said...lucky the  soul whose biggest concern is the passive-aggressive behavior of co-workers.

Saturday, December 1, 2012


As I look in the full length mirror, checking for cat hair, lint, upturned collar or drooping threads, I notice my body type has changed since I have moved well past 40 on my way to 50. I now have what I call a " fatorso". I am of average weight, not too big, not too small, but what I do have settles south of my shoulders, north of my knees. Hence, a "fat" torso. When I say fat, I don't mean it in the pejorative sense. I mean it biologically. As in, the fat cells have returned from the nether regions of my body and created a city on the hill of my abdomen. I imagine at conception and birth, the fat cells are sent out from the biological headquarters with the instructions: "Go forth and populate the baby. Make the cheeks round and cute. Pad the feet for running and fill the arms for strength." I also imagine at conception and birth, the fat cells were given this imperative: "We will meet back at the torso in 50 years! Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, when the baby grows into a middle aged adult, make your way to the middle of the body." Yeah. Like getting older requires that your hips and tummy need air bags in case of falls. Most folks have the same or similar problems : our butts sag or our butts disappear into our back fat; our bellies jiggle and need flowing blouses reminiscent of maternity clothes. I firmly believe there is a biological reason for our bodies getting pudgier with age. It could be nature's way of making sure only young folks wear mini-skirts and skinny jeans. Regardless, all I really wanted to say was "fatorso"...I thought of that word as I looked in the full length mirror the other day.

Friday, November 23, 2012

Not Shopping till I Drop Today

I am currently in the library waiting for my laundry to finish the wash cycle. (the laundry mat is across the parking lot...I have gotten to be an expert at knowing how long I can fiddle on the computer before I have to go throw the clothes into the dryer. Ok, maybe not...sometimes I forget the laundry and get all caught up in browsing the internet...)

Thanksgiving this year was fairly uneventful. I left work early on Wednesday feeling ill. I should have called in sick that day but since it was the start of a 4 day weekend, it is frowned upon. If you skip work, everyone assumes you are doing it in order to squeeze another day out of the already long weekend. So, instead I sat at my desk feeling like I was about to throw up until I couldn't stand it any longer. I ran out of the building and drove home hoping to not blow chunks in public.

I was feeling a little bit better yesterday, but still not well enough to eat turkey or even hear anyone talk about turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberries, etc.  DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH THE MEDIA TALKS ABOUT FOOD ON THANKSGIVING??? Well, you would realize it if you had the flu on Thanksgiving and just wanted to watch mindless TV which DID NOT include food chatter.

Today is that other holiday....the shopping holiday which I am avoiding participating in on the principle that our society has become waaaayyyy toooo focused on "getting a good deal" and "not paying full price." If I have to hear about one more stinking sale or how I can use my damn cell phone to get the best price or see another "where to find the best deal" 10 minute news-mercial (which is a "morning news segment which is really just a commercial for products") , I will SCREAM. If I could afford it, I would go to a store pick out all of the "full priced" items, buy them then stand on the check out counter conveyor belt with a mega phone and scream: " I paid full price! Suck on that!"

Seriously. What is full price anyway?  If everyone buys their sh$t on sale, then the stores will just jack up their prices artificially so that the sale price is actually the price they need to sell it at to make a profit and is really no longer a sale. 

And, don't get me started on the bragging that will happen on Monday..." I bought this Coach purse for $10!" (it is a knock off)  "I bought my son gym shoes for $10!" (someone else's son in a third world country was paid 10 cents and worked 10 hours a day to make the shoes.)  "I bought this coat for $10." (I  sat in line in 30 degree weather for several hours waiting for the store to open because my life lacks excitement and I use shopping to fill the emptiness.)

So....hey...Happy Black Friday.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Podcast addiction

Now that I can hook up to my phone and listen to music and podcasts, I have become quite addicted to it. Below I have posted a few links to interesting stories I have heard recently.

Yellow Rain - Radiolab

Yellow Rain - Radiolab

Not only do I recommend that you listen to this particular show, I would also  recommend that you read the comments page on the radio lab wesbite( or click on the link above). Wow....

The basic premis of the show: was the yellow stuff falling out of the sky on the Hmong people in the 1970's bee poop or chemical weapons.

I listened to this show while at work, shuffling papers around and I have to say when I took my ear buds out after the show was over, I felt like a changed person.  I could no longer tolerate the usual bitchiness around the office about who took the last cup of coffee or some such problem after hearing about the Hmong people.

Overtime | Radio Netherlands Worldwide

Overtime | Radio Netherlands Worldwide: The State We're In, 6 October 2012. A man in North Carolina spends 13 years on death row but was innocent. A woman with cancer learns to laugh at herself. And a photographer in Germany takes photos ...of people before and after they die in hospice...

Here is a link to some of the photos:

Or you can go directly to the photographer's website:

I know it seems kind of morbid but it is also fascinating.



This podcast is one of my absolute favorites just because I really like Liz Carr and the usualy co-host Mat Fraser.
This is a show that I listened to recently that got me thinking....

Ouch! Talk Show 75: say it again... and again

Fri, 19 Aug 11

55 mins

How many times can you legitimately ask someone with a speech impairment to repeat themselves? Our vegetable quiz returns and we're all about disabled golf. Liz Carr and Rob Crossan present.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Weather Report: Wurply and cold

Here is a snapshot from my back yard. It may seem a bit grainy but I think you might be able to see the color. I took the picture because there was a very strange purplish color in the air one evening. It was right before sunset on a cold day during a time when the edge of the Sandy storm lashed our city. We only got high cold winds here in the mid-west south of the Great Lakes area. Still, it was enough of a high wind to make me feel sorry for the folks to the East.

When I took this picture, I thought the purple haze was a hint of worse weather, but nothing worse happened.   Thankfully.

Still, the purple freaked me out.

In kindergarten as we draw, we learn skies are blue, sun is yellow, grass is green.  People are made of sticks and we can place them in our pictures wherever we like.  Then, we grow up and learn, stick people are not real and real people will refuse to be placed where we like. We learn that grass turns brown in a drought. We learn the sun is a huge ball of fire that will burn our eyes if we look at it so who the hell knows what color it really is....However, the sky remains reliably blue. Apparently, that is not true.  I saw the sky turn purple and now I wonder, what the hell else that I think is  unchangeable will change?

P.S.... I wrote this post in the library while sitting next to an extremely stinky man. I hope the five people who read my blog will appreciate the effort! *gag*....I am reminded of the Seinfeld episode about the valet who left B.O. in Seinfeld's car. The guy has left the seat next to me but the B.O. remains. I hope the B.O. doesn't stick to me and follow me around all day!!! weather term   windy + purple = wurply

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

" I knew LPs. I listened to LPs. MP3s, You are not LPs"

Sighhh....On the good side I will say that my new HTC phone is FANTASTIC. I can listen to radio stations from around the world. I can listen to music from around the internet. HOWEVER....

It is kind of odd to get all of my musical needs met by my telephone.

Sure, I go to the library and check out CDs but it is not the same. New music is not made the same as it used to be. Back when music was on an LP, the entire album MEANT something. The musicians spent a great deal of time thinking about WHAT ORDER to place their songs. If it was a 45, they thought about what was the A side song and what was the B side song. Besides the music, the art, the title, the acknowledgements all meant something. An LP or a CD were an experience above and beyond the music.

Now, I can get a song as an MP3 download or I can stream it or I can create a Pandora radio station around one song and all the other similar songs. I can check out music on You Tube ( a GREAT place to listen to music)  It is not the same. Just not the same as going to a record store and buying the entire album or CD.

Sooo...musically....I have been dipping my toe into Country music (a place I thought I would never go.). I get the CDs from the library. I am randomly picking them because 1) I don't know anyone who can recommend musicians to me (well, the ladies at work sometimes listen to the country music stations but no one can actually remember the names of songs or musicians as they really listen to the radio for traffic and weather reports) 2) I figure if I randomly select music, my  instincts can guide me. My rational brain keeps saying "whhhhy arrree you subjecting me to whinneyyy music???"

Here are a few observations gleaned from my random selections:

1) I prefer CDs where the musicians are NOT making eye contact.  Seriously. Listen to a CD where the artist is looking straight into the camera and compare it to one where the artist is either not on the cover or not looking straight forward. 9 times out of eye contact means better music

2) Country musicians with facial hair sound more country and/or are better musicians. (this is for the male artists only.)

3) Bright colors on the CD= sell out. Browns, blacks, greens and other muted colors=serious

4) I frankly can't tell the difference between some of the musicians shelved in pop and the musicians shelved in country. I think the genres are morphing together. 

Anyway...I am going to post some music I have been listening to on You Tube... none of these folks are country musicians, that I know of.... I am still acquiring the taste for country music and have already posted my limited likes: Zac Brown and Shooter Jennings... I am sure I will find more that I like. Just needs time.

Jim Morningstar - Sunday Driving - 4-17-2012

Fleet Foxes - Grown Ocean

The Decemberists Rise To Me

Saturday, September 29, 2012

I discovered a quote which explains why I am a sporadic blogger, absent facebooker and forgetful twitterer.

"I exist as I am,
that is enough.
If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
And if each and all be aware I sit content"

--Walt Whitman


Friday, September 28, 2012

My new dog, Max...

Bark softly and carry a big stick!

Monday, September 17, 2012

R.I.P. Maple Tree! You shaded my yard for the last 5 years. Now that you are gone, the neighbors will be able to see me sitting on the patio in my pajamas. Oh joy.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Doing laundry this morning. This is the sign above the machines which gives detailed instructions on how to use the laundry mat washers. Here is my favorite line: ' When washing small heavy items, wash more than one at a time.'

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Zac Brown Band "Free" Late Night w/ David Letterman

Here is the song that finally brought me into the 'Country Music' fold.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012


My cat is nagging me. Lol. I think he is saying: ' Quit following me around with your new camera phone! Who do you think you are, TMZ?!'

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Hello Friend, It's me , Mary's Butt. Are you there? Hello?

Recently I must have accidentally called a co-worker/friend. She calls it a "butt dial" which is a common term. She says she heard lots of "strange noises" .  Well...if this had been a literal "butt dial",  we would know what she meant by strange noises.

Anyway, I am not sure where I was when I accidentally made the call but I can guarantee the noises would have been related to my Lab-mix puppy. There would be the sounds of tumbling and running and me yelling:

"Don't eat that shoe..."
"Don't eat the couch!"
"Don't eat the cat."
"Don't eat the cat food."
"Don't eat the cat poop."
"Don't eat my book or my socks or my sweater."


"Don't eat the kitchen floor."
"Don't eat the sliding glass door!!"


"Don't eat the grass.
"Don't eat the tree."
 "Please do not dig up the daffodil bulbs and eat them too!"


Sounds like  a freaking Dr. Seuss book .
(Do not eat green eggs and ham....)


Anyway.  A "butt dial" is a funny thing because when someone tells you that you have done it to them, suddenly it feels like a lost opportunity, a missed connection. For five minutes there was an open line between me and my co-worker's cell phones. Neither of us were there for the "conversation", yet we were there. Our electronic proxies the call button and the voice mail box were there for us. And nothing happened. If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound? If phone call is accidentally made is it really a phone call?

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

I was entering a store recently. It had two sets of doors with a small vestibule in between. You have probably encountered these in your local mall. One door takes you from outside in, then the next door,  just a few feet away,  takes you from inside the building to inside the shop.

There were three of us entering at the same time. One person opens the outside door for the three of us (she is frail and perhaps might be seen as  "handicapped"  but not really because she is able bodied enough to open the door for her fellow shoppers.) The next person opens the next door. So far, I have not opened any door and since there are no further entrances, I can't return the favor to either of these folks. I am a big believer in holding the door for others: either the full-on hold and stand back for the next person to pass or the hold it open from behind as you walk thru to make sure the door doesn't slam in someone else's face.   Here, though, I was  encountering a situation where obviously, all three of us are "door holders" willing to let others walk before us.

I hesitate. Protocol would be to let the person who opened the first door walk in first, especially since she appears to be "handicapped" with her cane and slow gait,  but she is hesitating.  Second tier protocol would require me to say  "No need to hold the door. Go right ahead. I will hold it." But I didn't. You will probably think me impolite when you hear what I did.  In my defense I felt that decisive action was needed to prevent three overly polite individuals from being stuck in a vestibule wanting to hold the door for the other two folks.

I quickly walked through the door, head up, eyes straight ahead, mumbling a thank you. I left the door holders in the dust to discuss what an a$$ I was for not holding one of the doors.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

T is for Talkative, P is for Patience

While standing in a used bookstore waiting to trade in   R is for Ricochet by Sue Grafton and The Litigators by John Grisham,  an older man in front of me asks for an Og Mandino title.  The store has none and the clerk has never heard of Mr. Mandino.  So, the gentleman begins a long narrative about the virtues of Og Mandino's philosophy. Another clerk sees me and rushes over to help. She is apologetic. I brush her off and say, "That is ok. I can wait."

I wait. I wait.
I move over to the fiction shelves and pretend to browse.  I drop  off my paperbacks and move around the store, listening to the man talk about losing his well worn and much underlined Og Mandino book. He wants to find another copy because he suddenly feels the need to read this former favorite and well loved author. I can understand.  I have lost track of good books too.  The Tao by Lao Tzu and the Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook  used to sit on my bookshelf like they would be there forever. Not so. It can be disappointing to realize things change, things get lost and bookstores will not always carry the books you want to read. Or that bookstores (like Borders) will not always be there at all.

So, I pick out some other titles (mysteries by Colin Dexter, John Le Carre and Linwood Barclay) and now I have to pee. I am ready to check out and leave.
The older man has left and come back to speak to the clerk some more. He is talking about the  importance of underlining passages in order to remember.  He explains his ideas about  not just reading but absorbing what you read (like the difference between seeing an apple and eating an apple, he says.) Then the conversation moves to the idea that the clerk should try the Catholic religion.  I rest my head on a bookshelf and close my eyes.

If this were Kroger or JC Penney or Walgreens, I would have sighed heavily and rolled my eyes by now. Maybe even backed up the cart and moved to another aisle.

But I  will wait indefinitely while a bookstore customer or library patron tells the story of his life before I show any impatience. I have worked and been a customer in bookstores and at libraries for years. I know how the written word seems to inspire loooong-winded one-sided conversations in folks.

As my head rests on the bookshelf waiting for this gentleman to finish his conversation, I say a little prayer "God, grant me the patience while I wait in line  behind a windbag and God, grant patience on the person behind me in line whenever I stop the wheels of commerce to chatter on about whatever I find important."

"I seek constantly to improve my manners and graces, for they are the sugar to which all are attracted." Og Mandino

“Simplicity, patience, compassion.
These three are your greatest treasures."
Tao Te Ching,  Lao Tzu

"With practice, you can turn out a perfect omelet every time. Timing is important.." Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook 1989

Saturday, April 21, 2012

oops ..I mean the show is called Doodlebops...for some reason i can't get into the last post to fix the you go. 
I have never done LSD but I imagine the world after one does LSD looks  alot like a children's show. In particular this strange but fascinating show called the Doodlebugs....

P.S. This show is the grandchild of H.R. Pufnstuf , the original groovy looking character on Saturday morning TV

The Doodlebops Shopping List Finalized

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Scratching my head...

Stopped at a red light, I saw this handwritten lawn sign on the curb:

"We buy houses for cash. Any price! Call 555-555-5555"

Really? They can afford to buy a house but they can't afford anything more than marker and poster board to make the sign??!!

Friday, April 13, 2012

New dog. Pee. Hair. oh dear...

I haven't posted for awhile so you may wonder how I am doing.

Well, let me just say, I came to the library today to use the computer for this search:
"My dog pee'd on me. What does that mean?"

So, I think I have officially flipped from being unconventional to being eccentric. Maybe that morph happened a long time ago and I am just now realizing it. Who but the most eccentric people get pee'd on by dogs?

Anyway....the dog in question is a 3 1/2 month old puppy. I don't have a camera on my phone right now so can't share pics quite yet. He is a black lab/border collie mix. He is all black with brown eyes, floppy ears and medium long snout.
He is my re-bound dog who I acquired after my 10 year old beagle Sir Poopalot had to be put down. Long story short, Sir Poopalot had kidney failure. I miss him. After the new dog pee'd on me, I REALLY miss my beagle!

The funny thing is that I am not mad by the puppy's behavior. I am shocked. I yelled a bit when it happened. Then, I laughed. Now, let me tell you where he pee'd on me: my hair. Yep. He came up on the bed, bounced around all excited. I scrunched under my covers because I was sleepy. He seemed to fixate on the back of my head which was the only part not covered by blankets. He jumped on my head and pee'd. It was gross.

I am worried that I am slowly turning into the stinky old lady who lets her animals do whatever they want and who has no desire to be socially acceptable. My lack of outrage at my dog's behavior makes me wonder at my ability to fit into human society! I think my ability to relate to humans is being replaced by my amusement for my pet's odd behaviors.

So anyway, dog pee in the hair. How was I to know he would do that? I thought he would just dance around the covers then settle down for a nap. I guess the dog pee is only a reflection on my oddness if I leave the house without washing my hair. And just so you know, I did. Oh. I. did.wash. my. hair. I WASHED my hair over and over again.

P.S. I checked the internet and apparently, many people get pee'd on by their dogs. So, I feel better.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

What quote doth yonder email bringth?

EVERYBODY at work seems to sign their emails with a pithy quote to show the readers that 'yes, i too can search the Internet for other people's words'.

My email signature at work right now is 'Mary ext. 555'. It is naked and straightforward. I am avoiding peer pressure to spruce it up with a quote.

As a lover of books and words, I should be happy that Bartlett has not been forgotten in the age of one letter text messages. (k)
Instead, I am feeling angst-y about what quotation to use.

At first, I thought it would be cute to end my emails with words in really small print to make them hard to read and therefore, noticeable. Something like:

'always read the fine print'

Then, I considered a quote about small print. I found:

"The large print giveth and the small print taketh away." Tom Waits

However, jokes about small print typed in small print are not really in the spirit of the quotes people use at work. Folks are using happy/peppy/Dale Carnegie/Up with People/blowing sunshine up my a$$ quotes. You know the kind of quotes that give you hope about the world. So, in that vein, I could use one of my favorite sayings:

"Get a grip and keep it." Henry Rollins


Or I could try for a quote that will cause a "WTH does that mean" moment:

"She was a perfect lady--just sat in her seat and stared." Eudora Welty

"Now I know the things I know, and I do the things I do; and if you do not like me so, to hell, my love with you." Dorothy Parker

"I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal" Jane Austen

"Every moment of your life that is not a complete nightmare is happiness." Merrill Markoe

Or, since the quote is usually the very last line of every email (it comes after the text and after the 5 or so lines where people usually give their title, their department, their degrees, the names of their second cousins once removed), I could go with a quote that signifies, 'this is the END...the last thing you will have to read before you delete the email or respond to it'. is a good one (I 'googled' the term 'the end quotes' and found more than you might think one would):

"Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the ending of the beginning." Winston Churchill

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

lyrics from To Leave it Behind by Great Lake Swimmers:

"When we were greened and young as shoots
the world took off beneath our boots...", I have to lean up against the wall so I don't fall down while I put on my boots.
Ah well. Here is a toast: 'May we all remain greened and young as shoots to our 100th birthdays"

Great Lake Swimmers - To Leave It Behind

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Oh, Marian the Librarian, You went to college for This?

Overhearing this cell phone conversation, right now:

"I am at the liberry. How do I make the menu go away?"


"I am at the liberry right now and I need to make the menu go away."


"I am at the liberry. How do you make the menu go away? It's a pop-up. "


"I can't make it move to the left.... No. It don't move up."


She has to call a friend to use the computer at the library? There is a librarian sitting 5 feet away.

Oh wait, the librarian is busy directing someone to the bathroom.

(Give me a moment while I put my head in my hand and cry.)

The Music Man (Original Broadway Cast)- Marian The Librarian / My White ...

Saturday, January 7, 2012

How the Republican Primaries Remind me of Hamsters

It came to me last night while I was falling asleep. I wondered, ''When I wake up will there be one less Republican candidate for president?' Somewhere in the world, a child went to sleep wondering " When I wake up will there be one less baby hamster in the cage?"

Yeah, I learned this lesson early in life when a friend's hamster gave birth then ate her kids one by one. You would go back to the cage and suddenly, another baby hamster was gone and the mom hamster looked suspiciously satisfied. Right now, I think the Media is like the hamster mom. Every morning I turn on the TV to George Stephanopoulos and other reporters looking suspiciously satisfied that another Republican candidate shot up in popularity only to drop in the polls.

I want to tap on the glass and say "Hey, Hamster Mom, you are going to need one of those babies in the fall election. Don't eat them all up so quickly!!

I suspect all I will hear in return is a burp.