200312230730 Nina’s. Christmas is upon

200312230730 Nina’s. Christmas is upon us. I am done shopping. that may not sound too impressive given it is the 23rd, but for me it is pretty good. I am taking a half day of vacation today if I can; I think John, my co-worker for whom I am backup on a project, is the only one who would object. (Turned out that today was sign-off for system code to UAT, so I didn?t even bring up the vacation idea; we were in fact uploading code in the early afternoon.)
Yesterday I over-slept and missed my 7:15 am training appointment. That might be directly attributable to the three martinis that I drank the night before during the solstice party. And then it wasn’t until this morning that I realized that I had built my computer desk right through the Thai Chi chub going to The Lord of the Rings. I did make my pysch appointment. Saw Keller yesterday. Should think about getting my prescription from a GP, so says Dorothea.
My hands are pretty raw, mostly from the screw driver. (That was me assembling the particle board computer desk for downstairs.) My fingers are more sensitive than usual to the heat of the coffee cup. Street lights just turned off. I love looking that the people in the 21A as it stops here at the corner. I am getting hunger which usually means that I will be leaving soon.
The guy behind me, old (how old?) thin, unshaven, dirty old jacket, torn, too lightweight for any serious cold, hole in his back pocket, is trying to bum a cigarette, “nice computer where’d you get that?” of the Palm and keyboard, and from someone else too, “no man, I don’t got one.” He seems too close, coughing once in awhile, sniffling, though he is not too close. I can see my reflection and his in the window, him at the high table behind me. He?d get nervous, start pacing around the coffee shop. Later in the day my coworker Jim?s comings and goings kind of reminded me of him.
Went and got my glasses fixed and returned the loaner clip-ons to Pearl; Dorothea had found the clips that I had lost, found them in the oven drawer, so I didn’t need new ones. Took Liam and Anders to National Camera with me. The store had a brush that I am hoping will take off the dust from the slides that I want to scan. Waiting for Earthlink. The assembly of that computer desk but a crimp in my schedule.

200312150905 Louisiana Cafe. I have

200312150905 Louisiana Cafe. I have the day off from work. I am taking the reast of the Mondays for the year off to use up my vacation. I am here after going to the YWCA.
Just realized that I forgot to specific decaf. I am so decaffeinated now that the last time I had regular I spontaneously did the little project of putting up hook on the basement steps wall to hang backpacks. Maybe today will be skiing. I see that the headlines are screaming today. Saddam in U.S. custody. Talked to Ron the maintenance guy at the Y about the hot tub today. He doesn’t know why but the water temperature is either one hundred degrees (not hot enough) or one hundred and ten (scalding.) They’re cleaning pipes, filters. The tub is drained. Some of their instrumentation is old, he said, and they are in the process of replacing it. Time for a fundraiser for the boiler room? Not quite, he said.
The other day in the sauna during a conversation about the very same hot tub temperature fluctuation issue, a water aerobics lady mentioned that maybe it would have been wiser to have spent on the boiler the loans and grants the Y had just put into remodeling and easier sell, sexier stuff, like the all new Cybex equipment. But Ron is like Scottie on Star Trek. He’ll fix it, even if it takes duct tape and string.
I have to work on my job evaluation today. I need my planner for that. I will have to go in to work probably tonight. I can work on it some before though too.
The Louisiana Cafe is where I first saw the framed collection of colorized postcards depicting Saint Paul circa 1915. One of those postcards was a picture of a streetcar going across the Fort Smelling bridge. There are also large format framed color photos of barge details. (18 inches by 24?) And that is reminiscent of the party that we had at the No Wake Cafe after we got married. And now, except for Dorothea’s family and one other person from the No Wake that Dorothea has stayed in contact with, we no longer have connection with any of those people. I don’t anyway. Poignant.

“Some Kind of Possible” as

“Some Kind of Possible” as a title came to me this morning while I was walking at the mall and during the drive home. I was listening to Fresh Air on my Audible Otis player. Al Green was being replayed from this past Thanksgiving 2003. He said to Terri Gross that as a school kid he was pegged as ?some kind of vert?; Introvert, I think, was the implication. And that made me think of the British standup comedian, the transvestite, who would like to be just a vestite.
Then next They Might be Giants are talking to Terri about theichildren’sns book and a song that has the lyrics ?I?m Possible?; That really stuck with me. I am possible, I am here, and if some makes some other argument, well, obviously they are wrong. So I put them together and some kind of vert and I?m possible becomes some kind on possible.
So I get home and I google some kind of possible and the first thing that comes up has a reference to klonopin. I am looking that up right now. And the first thing that comes up for klonopin is that you can order it from home. How convenient.
I am also quite interested in blogging as it relates to privacy and anonymity. Hopefully I will get back to that.
Here is a partial list of what came up with ?some kind of possible?:
Analysis, computation;
Klonopin dream
Metallurgy network
Or mostly sloppy grammar, thinking, doomsday, end of the world or scientific shtick. On to the blog and privacy.
So I want to rename my blog sight or start a new one.
So the kernel is the beginning of the blog; everything else is backward. It is almost like writing fiction in that I don?t want any real names or place names.

The first thing that I

The first thing that I am interested in sharing is about feeling left out. Cheery, huh? Is this an emotion? A feeling? I don?t know, but whatever it is, it came to my attention because of my kids going through it. I am sensitive to feeling left out as it is something that I have struggled with as a child, and it is something that I am still struggling with as an adult. And now seeing my children going through these same issues is both painful and instructive.
The first instance was with my seven year-old son. It was an early release day from school, meaning that the school bus dropped off a couple of hours early. This throws everyone and their schedules into a tizzy, of course. Also, we got about 10 inches of snow over about twenty four hours Monday through Tuesday. So much for the set up.
I wasn?t there; I was at work. But this is how I heard the story. My son and his two buddies from across the street were sledding on the little hill in front of our house after getting off the bus. Then Buddy A?s big brother yelled from across the street. –Come on, dad is going to take use the sledding hill. So Buddy A says to Buddy B Let?s go! What about me? Asks my son. –Not enough room for you, says Buddy A. Of course tears. So D. takes son to sliding hill. Turns out the other kids were dropped off and left by the dad with a cell phone in the car of the older brother. (12.) This D. finds out when she gets there. Older brother loses cell phone. Finds cell phone. Everyone is happy that there is an adult there. Everyone has a good time.
Second instance. Eleven year-old daughter. Classmate invites some other classmates, but not my daughter, to go downhill skiing. It is a tough widget. There are only like eleven girls in the class; it is a small school. Even though she doesn?t downhill ski, she was nonetheless bummed.
And me, at work. Several people in my department, including myself, are working on upgrading an intranet application that we use. One of the people is a consultant, who as a contractor, did the original application. She?ll be coming in on Fridays. She and the lead on the project worked together all day. I felt left out. I was working solving some other problems. I realized that I was looking for approval from them for what I was doing and wasn?t getting it. It felt a lot like exclusion.
But realized–hey, not my issue. Like with my son. The situation was driven by a harried father and his kid who has his own issues. And with my daughter, the whole thing was the skiing classmate?s ego mostly, which is nothing anyone else can do anything about.
So even though it was painful to see my children go through their exclusion experiences, it helped me put my feelings of exclusion in perspective, or at least realize that was what was dealing with and this made it easier to let it go.

This is a little weird

This is a little weird because this is before my “first” posting. But I am filling in with things that I had written in my Palm before I posted to the blog the first. Does that make sense? And as I go through, I am editing and adding and taking away things. So–it’s the morning and I am at the coffee shop after working out at the Y. Started Atkins fat fast–went to Lund’s yesterday and bought the stuff. D. is not pregnant.
Whoa– say what? She had gone in for a check up and was told she had an enlarged uterus. She is going in for an ultrasound on Monday. Fibroids, she’s thinking. I don’t really know what that means. But the doctor said, oh, wait a minute, we can’t do these procedures if you are pregnant. Are you? Have you had your period? Hmm. Pregnancy test time.
This is really shocking (yes, shocking) because I have been fixed. Had a vasectomy two years after Liam. And that started me thinking about my mom’s mom being 40 when my mom was born, and my dad’s parents having a child in their forties and my oldest brother having a child when he was in his forties.
We’ve broken the curse. The pregnancy test was negative. It seems lighter out today. The sun may already be rising earlier in the morning. Have to remember to check on that.
Hungry again. Did the treadmill. Walking is abot half of what the ellipt is as to calories. Went to Kerri’s doctoial violin recital last night. Got in for the second half. All pieces by twentieth century women. There was an accompaniast and the piece was listenable. Very fun. The University orchestra was doing the firebird at 7:30. I was able to retreat last night about seven. That was good. So pretty much everyday this week I have gotten out in the morning.

200312110725 Nina’s. Billy is in

200312110725 Nina’s. Billy is in a really talkative mood. He is in here every morning that I am. There is something about him. He reminds me of the low IQ–high functioning handicapped people that I used to work with. And I am thinking about how this place is great for him because he loves to talk and ask questions and argue with people, some of whom seem to get tired of him, but his audience is always changing. Baristas come and go.
Overate yesterday. My manager took the seven of us in our department out to lunch at Axel’s, a fairly fancy-schmantcy place to eat.
Yesterday was an early release day for the kids. the boys were sliding on our hill. Keeve called for Shea, his little brother Shea called for Anders, Liam was left behind. There “was no room for Liam.” Tom drove them to the sliding hill and dropped them off with a cellphone. Yucky. At one level, just Tom trying to deal with the early release day. But I feel such sorrow for Liam. I remember that so clearly from my childhood–“you can’t come in” “we’re going but you can’t come with us” boy that is hurtful.