And now, our grand finale

By now some of you may have realized that I have been posting every day for the last 30 days. Yes, I can now officially announce my participation in NaBloPoMo. And my achievement. Woot!

"But, Allison," you may find yourself thinking, "Why did you not announce your participation before this, this ultimate day of NaBloPoMo?" And I would say verily unto you...because if I had told you, I am certain I would have failed miserably.

All my life, I have suffered from a perverse streak. If I told people I was embarking on a diet or had decided to quit smoking or wanted to give up chocolate for Lent, the pressure of knowing that people actually knew I was attempting something difficult almost immediately led to a crash and burn of the epic kind. I learned to keep my goals a private affair. That way, the only one putting on pressure was myself and if I did indeed crash and burn, it was just between me, myself and I. The three of us would bitch slap each other ala the 3 Stooges and move on with our lives. And the next time, I would know that nobody else knew I had already tried and failed.

So, when I decided on November 1st in a moment of madness to blog every day in November, I didn't tell anyone. I just started writing. Hence, no cute icon of kittens being threatened with death or other clues to my participation. I didn't even go to the NaBloPoMo website until November 18th. Then, I discovered that, had I registered, my rantings could have led me to Fabulous Prizes. But as an unregistered participant, my efforts were worth bupkus.

*sigh*

Well, I hope you enjoyed it. I think I did.

Or should I be asking for world peace?

Grant suggested a few days ago that we not give each other Christmas presents this year. We have bought ourselves a new plasma television and a refrigerator in the last few weeks and quite frankly, we are in debt up to our eyeballs. (Anybody want to buy a boat?? I can get you a great deal!) I know he's right, but I countered with the suggestion that we limit our spending to a certain dollar amount. He hasn't quite agreed, but I imagine he will.

Am I just a big, selfish baby because I want presents for Christmas?

A bit damp around the edges

We had the carpets and upholstery professionally cleaned today. Which means the house smells lovely and all the spots are gone, gone!, gone!!, but we can't sit down. Grant is perched on a dining room chair in the kitchen. I am back at my usual spot at the dining room table, but there is barely enough room for my laptop because of all the various things that had to be off the floor.

But...we are clean and smell sweet. Yay! for us!

Common sense? Meet Grocery Clerk

Warning: this post may resemble an earlier rant from Through the Looking Glass. Yes, Annika knows my pain.


I try to help them. The grocery clerks, I mean. I organize all of my groceries in practical groups, to aid them in the bagging of said groceries. I am not a fanatic, by any means, but some things just make more sense to me. For example, refrigerated deli items all go together, meats and poultry all go together, the frozen stuff is separated from the dry goods, vegetables and fruits--together, canned goods--definitely together.

So I was dismayed when my cereal was packed along with the popsicles. Ummmm, untreated cardboard and melty watery stuff in the same bag? Not so good. When I pointed it out, she removed the offending item, but she must have then decided that I was a lunatic, because she carefully put my chicken, my pork roast and my salmon in three separate bags. Because to put them together would be treif. Or so I surmise.

The absolute last straw was when I discovered she had packed my yellow bell peppers, my green beans and green onions in the same bag as 3 cans of chili. I pretty much lost it then and spoke sharply to her. But honestly, on what planet does anyone put crushable veggies along with sharp and heavy cans? A planet that purees everything, that's what!

To top it off, three essential items were left behind. Not her fault, they hadn't quite gotten on the conveyor belt and stayed at the end of the checkout stand. I do wonder about the intelligence of the woman who was behind me, but that perhaps is a post for another day.

Sunday chores

Yesterday's accomplishments have really inspired us. Not only did we completely clean up the basement, we also rearranged the bedroom so we could fit the televison armoire in it. I am very happy with how everything looks.

The final task is to clean up my elder step-son's room. We have some stuff to add to the Goodwill pile and some stuff to pack away. Eventually, I will turn it into an official guest room, but money is a bit tight and besides, I don't want him to think we are completely booting him out of the house. Even if he is going to be shipping out in the spring.

After that cleanup, we need to take a run to Goodwill and dump the good junk. Then I have to do some grocery shopping. Dinner should be good tonight, I am going to make Tomato Curry Beef with rice and roasted broccoli ala Mdme Stewart. Yummy.

You all should come see my beautiful house before we manage to clutter it up again. Just let me know when to expect you!

Well, damn

I was certain that I had made a post this morning. But no.

We tore apart the downstairs today. Our garage is now full of trash and stuff to take to Goodwill. No, really--- full. No car in the garage tonight. It is unbelievable how much stuff we have accumulated.

Our basement is now startlingly spacious. We have carpet cleaning people coming in on Tuesday to make us completely spic and span.

Then I suppose the packratting (ooo, new verb!) will begin again.

A day late

Okay, I have been properly reminded that my life is, in fact, worth appreciating. Lately, I seem to be complaining on a daily basis about this thing or that thing. I never intended this blog to become a whine-fest. After all, if I wish to whine, all I have to do is post over at Phantom Scribbler's blog and not only get the whine off my chest, but win fabulous prizes!

The truth is; my life is pretty damn good. Let's review:

• A husband who loves me and appreciates me
  
• Two kids who both have jobs, are reasonably polite, don't abuse any substances, and are happy
  
• A job that challenges me, but doesn't unduly stress me out
  
• A family that loves me, even if they do sometimes make me crazy
  
• Friends; local, long-distance and of the creepy-Internet-variety
  
• A dog who thinks the sun rises and sets with me
  
• More toys than any one human being really needs
  
• Regular trips to exciting places with someone I love
  
• Pretty clothes
  
• Good food
  
• My health
  
• The ability to laugh at life

This list could really go on and on. I have much to be thankful for. So, to all of you who are a part of my Wonderful Life, I raise a glass.





A special thanks to Annika, who made the bullets possible! [hug]

I got those immigrations blues

Can you lay down a nice slow bass line for me?

Thanks.

It wasn't until later this afternoon that I realized it was Thanksgiving. Which is so very strange, because Thanksgiving has always been one of my most favourite of holidays. Yet--I haven't actually celebrated it in years.

I have bitched about this before--Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving too early and not on the right day. We never cook dinner, because we are usually at the boat closing things up for the season. Sometimes we go to my sister-in-law's for dinner on Monday, but its not my Thanksgiving, you know?

The dysfunctional family interactions entwined with all the traditional family foods are what Thanksgiving is. The giant bowl of nuts to be cracked open and eaten while the guests gathered. The hot hors d'oevres that were both tacky and delicious, which, along with the nuts made us almost too full to eat dinner. The relish tray assembled by my sister and served on the same floral dish with gold trim since the beginning of time. The broccoli with hollandaise sauce, in the early years prepared by my mother, and once mastered by me, my special duty. The excess drinking and subsequent arguments and tears. The dinner table conversation, which invariably ended up with my parents remininscing about their youth, both singly and as a couple. The pie. All the damn pie. And then you get three days to recover.

Someday I may move back to the States and Thanksgiving will take its rightful place in my life again. In the meantime...

I got those im-

I say I got those immigra--

I got those immigration...

Bluuuu-uuuu-uuuuues!!

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Haunted

There is a ghost in my house.

She lurks just outside my vision, with a whisk of a tail. She knows she is welcome, but never stays for more than an instant.

There is a ghost in my house.

On Food

Last night we went to a grand opening of a new store here in town. It is a combination high-end fashion boutique and a high-end cafe/deli. The owner, who is also the chef, went all out in celebrating her grand opening, serving about 15 different kinds of rare cheeses and various pates to die for, and a selection of buttery pastry crusts topped with lobster or shrimp in cream sauce or a homemade duck sausage in mango glaze. Later, they brought out smoked salmon, lamb skewers, oysters with a spicy bread dressing and endive with a frothy cream cheese filling. She had an entire table of tiny desserts that were beautiful and unbelievably tasty, which I managed to resist until she brought out the little ramekins of creme brulee!! At that point, I decided "To hell with it!" and poured myself a glass (well, maybe more than one...)of wine and thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Now, let me put this all in context. Over the last weeks of campaigning, my eating habits had gone seriously south. On canvassing days, it was not unusual for me to consume 1-2 donuts, several mini-chocolates (damn Halloween, anyway!)and a couple of bags of greasy potato chips. Lunch was pizza or fried chicken or some other fast food concoction. And to top it all off, I was drinking far too much. I knew it had to stop, but during those weeks I seemed to have absolutely no self-control. Luckily, the day after the election, I re-focused myself and got back on a strict Phase 1 South Beach diet.

I had blamed the exhaustion I was feeling on the stress of the election. But it was remarkable how much better I felt once I started eating healthy food again. My energy went up, my tummy felt better and I started sleeping well again. I realize now that the junk I was eating was most likely contributing to my malaise as much as election-induced stress was; possibly even more.

I deliberately did not weigh myself--I figured "Who needs the additional stress?" but yesterday, I decided to check it out. Happiness! I am a mere 5 lbs away from my pre-summer low weight. This has taken a huge weight (pun absolutely intended) off me; I was really starting to beat myself up for letting my eating get out of control.

So, what does this have to do with the chef and her fabulous grand opening buffet? Well, it helped me to remember that if you are going to eat "badly", it is far better to eat well than to eat junk. I don't regret a bite that I took last night. Food should be a pleasure, something to savor. Last night it was joyful.

Especially the baby creme brulees.

Question of the Week

I have decided that asking questions is fun. You all responded quite enthusiastically to questions about cooking and vegetables. Obviously, those kinds of important life questions are truly the key to a successful blog. So, without any further ado, I present:

The Question

Paper napkins or paper towels? Discuss.

Writing: a stream of consciousness exercise

When I was in university, I kept a journal. I have it still; several spiral notebooks filled with reflections on the daily tribulations and triumphs of my life. Much of the writing is overwrought, the events are painful to recall and for many years I cringed to read it.

I still have the journals tucked away in a box downstairs. I haven't looked at them since I moved here to Canada nearly 7 years ago. The last time, I could read them from the distance of 25 years, and I loved the girl who wrote them. The writing is still overwrought, but I can remember the overwrought girl who penned them and I can't imagine how she could write any other way.

I have always written in a very personal voice. I think that's one of the reasons I don't do well at fiction; discovering a character's voice seems beyond my grasp. My best writing seems to come from my own experience or connections. I have also been proud of my critical writing, for much the same reason; I bring my own knowledge and understanding to a review or analysis. Even my papers written for schoolwork tend to have that same personal tone to them. Sometimes I worry that I am too conversational and informal, but my professors generally seemed to give me high marks. Still, that is one reason I hesitate to consider going after a masters degree. I cannot imagine writing in the formal style that would be demanded of me.

I often find myself comparing my writing to others and find myself falling short. Am I a good writer? Beats me. My own writing is so deeply personal to me that I have difficulty looking at it from the outside. I find I have to come back to it from the distance of time in order to be able to judge what I have written. I think Stephen King is the one who recommended putting away your first draft for several months before revisiting it. The time away from your "baby" is necessary in order to bring an unbiased eye to the project. That certainly holds true for me. While in the process of writing, I often limit the amount of editing I do, because if I tried to make it perfect, I would throw up my hands in despair and delete the whole damn thing. So, I write and read it over once or twice for basic corrections and clarifications and then hit that publish button. Whether or not it is worth reading is up to you, my stalkers, to determine. I hope that occasionally, it is.

But for now, as it was back then, the reason for the writing is in the act of getting words, words with meaning, on the page. That girl, for all her faults as a writer, recorded a life that was uniquely hers. She speaks to me across the years and for that, I applaud her. I then turn to the life that is uniquely mine and attempt to do the same.

Mmmmmmm

Italian food is yummy.

So is French wine.

And no, I didn't have dessert. Even though they did have creme brulee, which is my favoritest dessert of all time.

Art versus Technology

Over the years, I have come to own several art pieces. Most are Southwestern pottery, baskets (collected by me) and Kachinas (collected by my husband. We also have many. many photos of ourselves and others in our family, lovingly framed and displayed. Add to that a good collection of vases, candle holders and other decorative items and we often end up with more clutter than decor.

I've actually been pretty good managing the clutter. About every year or so, I sort through it all and either put it in a cupboard or put it in a box to sell at a garage sale., but this year I am long overdue. The folks from Clean Sweep would love to get their hands on our house.

The problem is further complicated by the electronic issue. We currently have 2 laptops, 2 portable phones and an iPod with speakers to find a home for. Plus we just bought a plasma television, which makes the lovely pine armoire that my former tv and most of my Southwest collection lived in, history. My CD and DVD shelfs are spilling over onto the floor. Every spare inch of space has something on it; art lives with technology at its side and it's not a comfortable relationship.

I like looking at my pretty stuff, arranged in attractive ways. I love my technology, too. But there's just not enough room. I don't really want or need a bigger house, so that's out. Yes, I need to purge. I think I should have a giant party and just tell people, "See this pile? Help yourself!"

Would you come?

Oops

I almost forgot. Good thing I am addicted to the internet and am unable to go to bed without checking my email-WD-blogs one last time before going to bed.

I actually have several ideas to write about, but that life I was so pleased about getting back seems to be demanding more of my time than I expected. Between setting up the new television, doing laundry, cooking dinner and watching Survivor, the evening completely got away from me.

Yeah, yeah, I know. These kinds of scintillating entries are exactly why you stalk me. Don' t hate me for my talent.

I can't imagine why

This made me think of Will.

Back to life

Back to reality.

I nearly forgot to write today; I am just that tired. Last night, of course, we had a bit of a party. There was some yummy Jackson-Triggs sparkling wine involved and I didn't get to bed until late. The alarm clock sounded at far too early an hour and I dragged myself off to work.

Exhausted, yes, but relieved that life can go back to normal once again. There is a lot to do--in a good way.

I have some major projects at work that now can get my full attention. I have to work on dropping some poundage; campaigning was not South Beach-friendly. I have a whack of paperwork to finish up and a house to turn back into a living space instead of a satellite campaign office. And I fully intend to sleep in as long as possible on Saturday.

I like my life. I look forward to having it again.

We won

*collapses in a protoplasmic blob of relief*

27 and a half hours to go

My stomach hurts.

On the eleventh hour, of the eleventh day on the eleventh month

We remember.

Waiting

I don't wait particularly well, especially when I am under a deadline of some kind. Even when I have something to distract me, like a book, I often find myself obsessively checking the time and reading the same part over and over again. Waiting--a game I don't do well.

Anyway, it feels like one big wait today. We have 2 more days until the election; we wait to see what other nasty tricks our opponent will pull out of her nasty sack, we wait to see if our signs will stay where they are supposed to, we wait to see if the people of our lovely city are smart enough to realize what a great job Grant does.

We are also waiting for a delivery. It is now Hour 4 in a 5 hour window. Of course, we have an engagement this evening that requires us to be out of the house pretty much right at the end of that window. I have left a stern message explaining that we must take delivery NO LATER than 6 o'clock or we simply won't be home. I also explained that we would expect delivery at another time at no additional charge to us. I fully expect one of two things to happen. The delivery guys will show up at 6:01 and we will be very late for our engagement. Or, we will leave and the delivery people will refuse to reschedule without some ridiculou--

Oh wait-- they're here.

************************************************

After the removal of three doors (two on the fridge, one on the house), some hopeless moments where we thought it would not make it through the final door, a horrible realization that we might have mis-measured the width of the space to allow the re-attached refrigerator door to actually open; plus one very frustrated and unhappy delivery dude; we now are the proud owners of ....

MONDO REFRIGERATOR

Oh, look! I have cake and ice cream!! (I wish)

Why I need to move to another planet

Preferably one that rotates a bit slower than this one, say about 5 hours slower?

You see, my perfect day would go something like this:

Wake at 6:30.
Work from 8:00-4:00
Errands, etc. from 4:00- 6:00
6:00-8:00: cook, eat and clean up dinner
8:00-12:00: talk to husband, watch tv and do computer stuff.
12:00: take a bath
13:00:get ready for bed
14:00: fall asleep
Wake up 9 1/2 hours later at 6:30

Ah, the life on Planet Allison...

Instead, I keep having to make sacrifices on stuff. Like baths. Or husband time. Or sleep.

Stoopid Earth.

Mission accomplished

The House and Senate are under Democratic control.

plus:

I finished writing yet another election speech.

equals:

Life is good.

To my fellow American citizens

You know what you need to do.

Random blogging without bullets

Would someone tell me how to do bullets? Thanks.

I think I am getting a new refrigerator. And a really big television. This means I can eat more food while exercising less, which does not bode well for my skinny clothes fitting much longer.

My computer is apparently superceding my husband's computer when it comes to online connectivity. In other words, the wireless likes me better. I can't really blame it; after all I am a charming and talented individual, but it is starting to effect my marriage. Would it be possible for the person who knows how to make bullets to also give us a fix for the wireless issue?

It's the little things that really get you. We didn't let the kitty up on the top floor of the house, where the bedrooms are. Grant is really allergic, so we needed at least one cat-free area. We had a child-gate at the top of the stairs, which we regularly climbed over in our travels up and down the stairs. After I got home from the vet, I cleaned up all of her dishes and packed away her food. I emptied the cat pans and washed the blankets she had been sleeping on. Then, that night, I went upstairs, climbed over the gate and went to bed. The next morning when I got up, Grant had removed the gate. I just stood still for a minute, and that's when I knew that she was really gone. I think I will feel that pang for a very long time.

Elections really suck. Negative election tactics suck even worse. I'm just sayin'.

And now I must retire. Partially so I can take a bath and then get some very much-needed sleep, but mainly because my darling husband is looking daggers at my computer from across the room.

One more week (or so)

One more week of knocking doors, of putting up signs, of answering phone calls, of too much junk food and not enough sleep. I have another speech to write and a whole whack of bills to pay.

And the irony of it all?

I can't actually vote for my husband. I am not a Canadian citizen.

I do, however, live in Canada. Not just Canada, but Ontario, Canada. You know, one of those provinces over on the eastern side of North America? And although I can vote on the Federal level, I am not allowed to vote on state candidates and issues. So, the phone call I got from Robert Redford asking me to vote against a proposition and the other one I got last week asking me to support Phil Angelides for Governor ( I think it was Phil, but honestly, I didn't really pay that much attention to it...) does seem like a waste of money. You think they could figure out that they're calling out of the country and all. Yeah, you'd think...

Anyway, I can't actually make much of a difference in the mid-term elections. Both of the representatives from my (former) area are Democrats and are not facing any kind of legitimate challenge. I dutifully sent off my absentee ballot, but it felt somewhat unnecessary. I guess I should really buy a piece of property in Ohio.

But I know I can count on all of my stalkers. Vote early. And vote often. After all, that's what the Bushies do. ;-)

Last night

All I can say is--if you ever have a chance to see Jann Arden, you should!

Katy Catgirl: April 11, 1988- November 3, 2006

Sleep well, sweet kitty.



We will miss you.

Style over substance

*This entry contains no spoilers of any substance*

Last week our DVR went wonky and only taped the first 4 minutes of Lost. As ABC has arbitrarily decided that those of us here in the GWN are not deserving of free downloads of episodes via teh internets, I was forced to find a site that had a transcript.

Dude. It took me like 5 minutes to read the whole thing. When I got to the end, I actually checked to see if there wasn't another page link or something. I know scripts generally read much faster than they air, but I have read other scripts online and never taken so short a time. So, either the camera spent many minutes lovingly scanning over Sawyer's poor bruised body or there were fifty gazillion commercials.

Neither replaces real story-telling.




Although if the camera had spent some quality time with Sayid, I would have forgiven them...

This 'n that

For those of you wondering which chili heating option I chose...I heat it in a pan. It just feels more "cooked" that way to me.

I stayed home from work today. Not precisely sick, although if you had heard my voice this AM you would have believed I was practically in the grave. I was just tired beyond belief. So, I slept in, got caught up on some election stuff and ate too many frozen Mars bars (Milky Ways for those of you south of the border.)

Just under two weeks left in the campaign. I think we are doing well but we are still on tenterhooks. Aren't you glad you don't have to ask 42,000 people if you can keep your job for the next 4 years?