quick story

Gut it

OK, I can take take it. After all, I am a seasoned professional. It's all part of a collaborative editorial process.

OK, no I can't.

She asked me to "tone it down," change a few things.

Me: "Sure! but tell me more--do you mean simplify the overall writing level for the students or is there something specific you want me to change?"

Principal R: "How about taking out the part about Sam getting 'cracked across the knuckles with a ruler' and how Joey said 'God is old and stupid.' We don't want anyone to get any ideas."

Indeed. 

Ignore that

last bit. thanks.

Health nut em

The 2-part high-low diet is starting to yield results--3 weeks of high fiber meals and low beer intake has resulted in a net loss of 7 lb. Yay! Yup, I'm a regular diet guru.

And as always, part of the em regimen is the regular run. But because I've been pounding up and down the same routes for quite some time now without much, if any, increase in overall fitness and stamina, I decided that as of the running months of April through November, I will extend my distances, cover new ground, expand into new frontiers. Translation--I add a 10 minute loop to whatever route I'm taking that day. But this too will grow and expand, perhaps in direct correlation to the shrinking of the em backside...

In addition to the distances that I'm covering, I'm also working on other aspects of my running. It's my theory (and this may be stupefyingly obvious to you guys--if so, please excuse) that over time our body gets accustomed to exerting certain muscles in certain situations and at certain--minimal--levels. So even though we're "exercising regularly," our body is busy cutting corners and doing only as much as is required to keep the momentum moving in a forward direction. Consequently, the fitness level remains, at best, static. I've flat-lined. 

One problem is my gait--it's lazy. When I say I chug, I do--movements are minimal: arms are bent at the elbows with hands at hip level where they remain fairly still; pumping legs manage only to keep my feet from getting tangled in the uneven sections of the sidewalk. Back in the day, I used to run with a really good runner--a trained runner--and he gave me some good pointers for improving my running efficiency. But at some point along the way, I had disregarded these pointers in favor of the "going through the motions" type jog. So now I'm returning to my old form--I'm lengthening my stride and as I execute the heel-toe gait, I'm pushing off harder with my toe and kicking my heel up in a more pronounced way, as if to touch the back of my lower leg with my heel. I'm telling you I already notice a difference--I'm moving along at a faster pace without (much) additional effort and this makes it easier to cover more territory. The only thing is this adjustment to my gait takes some concentration to maintain or I fall back into the old slouchy chug. I'll try to remain focused.

So now I'm a kinesiologist too. 

All the hits that're fit to print

*George Forman voice* I was tagged!
Jamie over at 10 Signs has invited me to do one of those meme things, and I'm happy to jump in on this one. It's a music theme and she's got some good taste in that dept. But what's 'meme' stand for anyway? something having to do with theme?

The last CD I bought was:
Billie Holiday--The Ultimate Collection. I also bought a new biography of her in the same Amazon order. I'm on a big Billie binge.

Song playing right now:
Halllelujah by Jeff Buckley. Soooo beautiful. I'd be tempted to cheat here if the song on was a dud, but, it's not. :-)

Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me:
Oy, where to start...
1. "Sideways" by Citizen Cope--he could take up 4 of these;
2. "To Zion" by Lauryn Hill--I can't sing this song without crying;
3ish. "Luka" by Suzanne Vega and the version by the Lemonheads--I can't sing this one either without crying; is it cheating to put down both?
4 or thereabouts. "Heaven Right Here" by Jeb Loy Nichols
Along the lines of 5. "Dancing Barefoot" and "Gloria" by Patti Smith--oops, I think I cheated right there;
yes, 6. "4th of July" by X--I know, I'm cheating...

Five people to whom I’m passing the baton:
Ian!
Ron! altho he says he's not too into music...
Wedge!
Dyna Girl!
Johnny the Horse!

No cheating, you hear!

How do you thank someone who has taken you from crayons to perfume...?

Ed Note: Mrs. R, the principal at my kids' school, asked me to write a short piece for the final ICS newsletter.  "Ahhh, a rant over the closing of the school?" I asked. "No, no, we must be positive to the end," she replied. "Just some thoughts on your family's experiences with the school."  So here it is, not the  angry, piercing, anti-Catholic diatribe that I would have preferred, but then, I do try to follow directions. Let me know if it's too over-the-top.

A 125-year run isn’t so bad, if you ask me. An unexpectedly abrupt ending, to be sure, but there is much to be thankful for and many memories to cherish.

My 2 older daughters came to Immaculate Conception School after attending Trinity Episcopal Academy for many years. And not being Catholic and thus having no experience with the Trenton Catholic school system, I enrolled my children with a certain amount of trepidation. Are they overly strict? Do they treat the non-Catholic kids just as they do those who are Catholic? Is the curriculum varied and up-to-date? Will the instruction be engaging and multi-faceted? Will they smack Sam across the knuckles with a ruler? These and lots of other questions roiled around in my head.

It took about 2 minutes for Mrs. R to put my mind at ease. Sam, my eldest daughter and the "boundary-tester" in the gang, piped up with a question for Mrs. R during the school tour she conducted for us when we applied for admission: "Can I use bad words in the essays that I write?" Well I wanted to quietly step into the coat closet and close the door, but Mrs R's response was patient, affable, and unfazed: "No honey, save that for Dear Diary. This is a grammar school."      

Through tribulations major and minor, Mrs. R and the faculty and staff of ICS have shepherded, supported, protected, assuaged, and corrected all 3 of my children.

• When one daughter was rendered desolate as a result of some painful bullying;
• When another daughter was obsessed with applying make-up products in class every 2 to 3 minutes;
• When a certain 5-year-old son got an F in Displays Good Christian Values for saying "God is old and stupid" to the class;
• When 3 kids flailed about as they processed the divorce of their parents;

and on and on. With enormous grace, generous nourishment, and good humor the ICS family has become a part of the fabric of my family. I am so thankful that they will be an integral part of the lower school at the consolidated facility out in Hamilton. Change is hard and it's a comfort to know that Mrs. R and the faculty and staff of ICS staff will be on the other end.

Navigator to the brig!

When it was time to name things, Trenton turned mischievous.  Within a few blocks of each other we've got

• Riverside Drive
• Riverside Avenue
• River Avenue
• River Road

Over near the country club and the asylum we've got

• Lower Ferry Road
• Upper Ferry Road
• West Upper Ferry Road

And around Cadwallader Park it's

• Hilvista
• Hiltonia
• Hillcrest

No wonder I'm always lost.

Joey vs the professional editor

Joey: "Mommy, there's something wrong with Ruckus's butt." [Ruckus is our new ginger-colored kitten.]
Me: "What's wrong with Ruckus's butt?"
Joey: "It's got a gross pink circle on it."
Me: "Joey, every kittie's butt has pink circle on it."
*whizzing and whirring sounds as information is rapidly processed in the fresh brain matter of a 6 year old with an enormous noggin*
Joey: "Mom, don't say butt."
Me: "OK Joey, every kittie's behind has pink circle on it."
Joey: "Mom, don't say behind."
Me: "OK Joey, every kittie's bottom has pink circle on it."
Joey: "Mom, don't say bottom."
Me: "OK Joey, every kittie's rump has pink circle on it."
Joey: "Ew, Mom, don't say rump."
Me: "OK Joey, every kittie's tookus has pink circle on it."
Joey: "Mom! Don't say tookus!"
Me: "OK Joey, *casts about for one more synonym for anus. Fails.* What should I say?"
Joey: "Say hiney."
Me: "Hiney! hiney! hiney!"

Out-gunned again.

O Trenton, 2 cities

I jog through bad neighborhoods because it takes my mind off the pains of running. I chug up Hermitage, past the open-air drug market with all the people milling about, watching. And during this I am not thinking '*huff puff* I'm out of breath I want to stop.' or 'hmm, look at that shoe lace. I should stop.' or 'hoooo, my side hurts. I need to stop.' As I've told you guys before, most of the people there think I'm a cop, many want to sell me drugs, and some want to hit me in the head with a quart bottle. Yup, it's all good, fuel for the run, grist for the mill.

Unfortunately, it is not possible to stay within bad neighborhoods when you run in Trenton, it's too spotty. I live in the aptly named area called The Island--a sweet neighborhood. Rippling out across the highway, however, is crap. Around the corner from that, worse crap. But up the hill is a different story--a lovely neighborhood with stately homes, including the mayor's. A tick down Sullivan Way is another interesting dichotomy--on the right side of the street, Trenton Psychiatric Hospital (the former New Jersey State Lunatic Asylum at Trenton), and on the left, Trenton Country Club.

Saturday I decided to take a route I hadn't covered since last fall--I skirted along the grounds of the looney bin and then circled around the outside perimeter of the country club. A safe route, eh? No. As I chugged along the road that runs along the front 9, I scanned the ditch at the edge of the street for lost golf balls, as you do, and wondered what it would feel like to get hit by one, as you do. And as if on cue, I heard it clearly, like a whistle, slicing through the leafy trees just above my head--a long drive. Way long. I stopped dropped and covered. Not to get melodramatic, but THE GODDAMN BALL GLANCED OFF THE TREE NEXT TO ME, CAREENED ONTO THE PAVEMENT AT MY FEET, AND GALLOPED OFF INTO THE MEADOW  ACROSS THE ROAD.

Fucker.

So I looked back up the freeway, and there was this orange speck of an Izod-guy, climbing into his electric golf cart.       

I tapped my foot, waiting. He buzzed down, looking for his errant ball. He buzzed down farther, now off the fairway, out of bounds, and finally, down to the street.
Me: "Did you hit that ball just now?"
Golf guy: "Yeah, where'd it go?"
Me: "It nearly took my ear off."
Golf guy: "Where is it?"
Me: "Don't you want to apologize for almost killing me?"
Golf guy: "Where. Is. It."      

Fucker. I'm back to Hermitage next weekend.

A bit of shouting

My job is too hard lately. It is unrelenting, squeeeezing me, compressing all the fluids and moisture out of my body.  I'm a dried up old grouch now. When the wind blows, I make flapping noises.

So in lieu of a quick story, I will take a moment and mention some of the blogs I value (in no particlualr order):

Escape from Blogland--Mr Cordiality, the ultimate blog MC, and with content that challenges, provokes at times....
Greavsie--funny as hell, consistently; and for those of us requiring instant gratification, his comments area is very well-maintained.
Happy Hour--so hilarious when she's not being heart-wrenching.
Que Sera--the writing is awesome, effortless.
Wibble--how'd he get so insightful, so good at expressing things? also love the music posts, because we seem to have had the same stuff blaring away on the radio over the years.
10 Signs--she makes your mouth water with all that talk of fresh healthful food. The Food Channel should take heed.
Criticize Me--Is it not awesome that we now follow along with the comings and goings of a good buddy who just happens to live across the Atlantic Ocean?
Southern Bird--lordy woman you are a pip!
Bridget Who--a humor-filled slice of life in Londinium. Makes me wish I was younger.
This Is My/Prose and Cons--whoa, such good stuff, but too infrequent.
Stop the World--they seem like old friends, even tho I don't even know where they live. Weird, but cool in a way, OK a stalkerish way...
Words for My Enjoyment--an inside peek at Hollywood. Yes, a Hollywood that's a bit skewed...and with a helluva robust imagination.

And a big shout out to some new blogs that I think are awesome--
splee, JtH, wedge, long lost one.

I totally envy every one of you. :-)

Busy em

I really have to find more time in my day--I have places to go, people to see, books to read, troubles to wipe away, injustices to remedy, wrongs to right, and I simply do not have enough time to do everything and go to work every day.

So as you can see, something's gotta give. Aha--the job! *checks finances. laughs* Ok, let's look elsewhere then.

Saturdays it would seem are wide open. The current schedule:
    8:30--get out of bed
    8:30-10:30--read newspapers
    10:30-11:30--go for a run
    11:30-1:00--read newspapers, pt 2
    1:00-1:30--nap
    1:30-4:00--shop for groceries, shoes
    4:00-6:00--garden
    6:00-7:00--cook din
    7:00-8:30--blog
    8:30-10:00--watch TV
    10:00--8:30--sleep fitfully
As you can see, a very full and productive day.

Let's examine Sundays:
    8:30--awaken
    8:30-10:30--read newspapers
    10:30-11:30--go for a run
    11:30-1:00--read newspapers, pt 2
    1:00-1:30--nap
    1:30-4:00--shop for groceries, shoes
    4:00-6:00--garden
    6:00-7:00--cook din
    7:00-8:30--blog a bit
    8:30-10:00--watch TV
    10:00--6:30--sleep fitfully
Hmmm, similarly jam-packed with important tasks. Righting the Western World will have to wait, at least until I can fight my way out of this rut, which could take some time...