Because I Am Too Lazy To Type It All Out Again
Jodi says:
so i got woken up before 6 by the fire alarm beeping for low battery
and we just changed the battery last week
and neil's gone
and it was the alarm at the top of our living room ceiling...(very high)
Britten says:
ugh.
what did you do?
call your landlord? hee hee.
Jodi says:
and the dogs were shaking and whining... sensitive ears..
Jodi says:
yeah... i actually did and they were no help...
but i got the ladder out of the garage (heavy dirty icky)
Britten says:
did you get a ladder?
Britten says:
oh -- yeah.
Jodi says:
and took the battery out
Britten says:
fun
Jodi says:
and it kept beeping
Britten says:
yuck.
Britten says:
ARGH!
Jodi says:
and we didn't have any more batteries
and i was late for a staff meeting
Britten says:
oh my.
sounds like a not-so-fun morning.
Jodi says:
so i got the dogs, put them in their crate and put the crate in the closet and shut all three doors between the closet and the living room
Jodi says:
and shut boo boo's room
Britten says:
poor boo boo!
Jodi says:
and then went to work... and after my lunch meeting i went home and got the ladder out AGAIN
Britten says:
oh my
Jodi says:
and put a new battery in that i bought on my way home (even thought the previous battery had been new too)
Britten says:
geepers.
Jodi says:
so, please cross your fingers that it stops and I don't have to collect my pets and move to a hotel.
Britten says:
My fingers are crossed.
Jodi says:
oh, and because of all the chaos, i forgot to wear my wedding ring for the first time in two years!
Britten says:
ACK!
Jodi says:
and my watch and earrings
and i felt naked
and i didn't eat breakfast either
Jodi says:
it sucked SOOO much.
Britten says:
my goodness.
Jodi says:
i can't wait to start over tomorrow morning.
Monday, August 30, 2004
Friday, August 27, 2004
Far far away...
My little brother Dustin (who is actually quite a bit bigger than me at this stage in our lives, but used to be small -- see photo below) is flying away from me right now. He's somewhere on his way to Europe where he'll meet up with a group of college students and begin his nine-month adventure in Italy. I am really excited for him. But at the same time I'm a little sad that he's going to be so far away for so long.
I am not sure why it is better when he's in California at school. Maybe it's because I know he'll be coming home for holidays, or because I know it only takes a day or part of a day to get to him? And the time difference is only an hour instead of eight. There's something about the knowledge that if I really need to, I can get to him for a hug without major inconvenience and delay... because sometimes the best thing in the world is a hug from my little brother, or a shared laugh -- in person.
He was supposed to come by my house at 4:30 this morning to say goodbye, but was running late and called instead. I mumbled some incomprehensible stuff...the regular have fun, be safe, e-mail me as soon as you get there... and he said to have fun with my dogs and say bye to Neil and we hung up. I'm a little sad that I didn't get to see him -- get a few hugs to tide me over until next summer.
But mostly, I am thrilled about the experience he's going to have and the things he's going to learn. I am envious of him because I always wanted to study abroad and didn't because I was too afraid of missing out on something... and I admire him for taking the brave step and going.
So, I might worry a little. And I'll probably have a few times that I want to call him and can't because of the time difference and I'll certainly miss him a lot, but mostly, I am proud of him.
I always know this, but I suppose the reality of nine months without him just made me feel it more than usual: I have a really incredible little brother.
My little brother Dustin (who is actually quite a bit bigger than me at this stage in our lives, but used to be small -- see photo below) is flying away from me right now. He's somewhere on his way to Europe where he'll meet up with a group of college students and begin his nine-month adventure in Italy. I am really excited for him. But at the same time I'm a little sad that he's going to be so far away for so long.
I am not sure why it is better when he's in California at school. Maybe it's because I know he'll be coming home for holidays, or because I know it only takes a day or part of a day to get to him? And the time difference is only an hour instead of eight. There's something about the knowledge that if I really need to, I can get to him for a hug without major inconvenience and delay... because sometimes the best thing in the world is a hug from my little brother, or a shared laugh -- in person.
He was supposed to come by my house at 4:30 this morning to say goodbye, but was running late and called instead. I mumbled some incomprehensible stuff...the regular have fun, be safe, e-mail me as soon as you get there... and he said to have fun with my dogs and say bye to Neil and we hung up. I'm a little sad that I didn't get to see him -- get a few hugs to tide me over until next summer.
But mostly, I am thrilled about the experience he's going to have and the things he's going to learn. I am envious of him because I always wanted to study abroad and didn't because I was too afraid of missing out on something... and I admire him for taking the brave step and going.
So, I might worry a little. And I'll probably have a few times that I want to call him and can't because of the time difference and I'll certainly miss him a lot, but mostly, I am proud of him.
I always know this, but I suppose the reality of nine months without him just made me feel it more than usual: I have a really incredible little brother.
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Catching Up
The Big News of the day:
After weeks of worrying about my teeth and imagining that I had at least eight cavities and would be needing serious gum surgery, I went to the dentist today and not only was everyone there really nice (unlike previous dentists) but they also said I have great teeth with no cavities! Strange how a good dentist visit made me so elated...
Where I have been:
Portland.
We visited Neil's family and friends for nine days which was a bit too long. We had at least four different social engagements daily and came home thoroughly exhausted and it was a tough trip at times because we were spread so thin... but overall, it was successful. We saw at least 50 relatives and 20 friends (including three of my personal friends). We spent a day on the Oregon Coast with Neil's mom and Grandma and Aunt. We went to the COOLEST dog store ever www.lexidog.com. We spent six hours biking and kayaking with Neil's dad in a self-made biathlon (semi-torturous at the time, but rewarding in the end). And, we met Neil’s best friend's baby, possibly the cutest baby I've ever met.
We got home Sunday and my parents were at our house with our dogs, who we missed a ton. Apparently, the dogs had a great socialization experience while we were away. They bonded with my parents (mostly my mom) and then went to a kennel for five days where they charmed all the employees (and didn't bite anyone).
Last night was the much-anticipated Dave Matthews Band concert. My fan club membership got us sixth row seats and it was amazing. Also amazing is how little sleep I have had over the last 12 days. Oregon consisted of about 6 hours of sleep a night on an air mattress and since then, I have not been doing much better. I thought I was going to fall asleep while having my teeth cleaned. But the chalkboard-esque scraping ensured that I didn't.
The concert brought up those pesky feelings that I should quit my job and follow my every whim in an effort to live the most fulfilling/authentic/quality life I can. Something about being surrounded by and filled with really good live music makes me feel more alive than I do in my day to day life... Other things bring about this feeling too: using my body (the biking and kayaking biathlon for example) being in nature, being with friends and family, reading something really well-written and thought-provoking, writing something I feel proud of (most recently my John Kerry essay, even if NPR didn't want it), traveling, seeing new things, meeting new people...I think there are some more... but at the moment, the exhaustion is taking over.
The Big News of the day:
After weeks of worrying about my teeth and imagining that I had at least eight cavities and would be needing serious gum surgery, I went to the dentist today and not only was everyone there really nice (unlike previous dentists) but they also said I have great teeth with no cavities! Strange how a good dentist visit made me so elated...
Where I have been:
Portland.
We visited Neil's family and friends for nine days which was a bit too long. We had at least four different social engagements daily and came home thoroughly exhausted and it was a tough trip at times because we were spread so thin... but overall, it was successful. We saw at least 50 relatives and 20 friends (including three of my personal friends). We spent a day on the Oregon Coast with Neil's mom and Grandma and Aunt. We went to the COOLEST dog store ever www.lexidog.com. We spent six hours biking and kayaking with Neil's dad in a self-made biathlon (semi-torturous at the time, but rewarding in the end). And, we met Neil’s best friend's baby, possibly the cutest baby I've ever met.
We got home Sunday and my parents were at our house with our dogs, who we missed a ton. Apparently, the dogs had a great socialization experience while we were away. They bonded with my parents (mostly my mom) and then went to a kennel for five days where they charmed all the employees (and didn't bite anyone).
Last night was the much-anticipated Dave Matthews Band concert. My fan club membership got us sixth row seats and it was amazing. Also amazing is how little sleep I have had over the last 12 days. Oregon consisted of about 6 hours of sleep a night on an air mattress and since then, I have not been doing much better. I thought I was going to fall asleep while having my teeth cleaned. But the chalkboard-esque scraping ensured that I didn't.
The concert brought up those pesky feelings that I should quit my job and follow my every whim in an effort to live the most fulfilling/authentic/quality life I can. Something about being surrounded by and filled with really good live music makes me feel more alive than I do in my day to day life... Other things bring about this feeling too: using my body (the biking and kayaking biathlon for example) being in nature, being with friends and family, reading something really well-written and thought-provoking, writing something I feel proud of (most recently my John Kerry essay, even if NPR didn't want it), traveling, seeing new things, meeting new people...I think there are some more... but at the moment, the exhaustion is taking over.
Monday, August 23, 2004
Monday, August 09, 2004
The Touch
The following is an essay I wrote with the hopes of getting it on the radio...possibly as commentary on NPR's Morning edition. I submitted a shorter version to NPR and haven't heard anything back... so here it is in its entirety:
I am new to the role of political supporter. As a newspaper journalist, I met or was in the same room as many prominent politicians. I covered events with Bill and Hillary Clinton, Laura Bush and others and while I may have been more excited about reporting on certain events, I never let it show. Now that I no longer need to remain impartial and am free to support candidates of my choice, I have a little trouble getting into it. At rallies I can’t bring myself to cheer or even hold a sign up for very long. I remain uneasy about making political donations and posting political bumper stickers on my car. And so, when I waited outside a Catholic church in Albuquerque, New Mexico’s Old Town this Sunday and to catch a glimpse of Senator John Kerry, I really didn’t know what I was in for.
Supporters were cordoned off behind ropes across the street from the church, and as I stood in the crowd, I longed for a press pass and notebook so I could get a better seat and not have to be a part of this giddy group. Despite the oppressive heat, the Kerry supporters were oozing enthusiasm. Their dedication impressed me and I thought about how surreal it would be to emerge from mass to see a few hundred people who all wanted something from you – a smile, an autograph, a handshake.
As I stood there watching various gray-haired congregants exit the church, I wondered whether I might miss Senator Kerry. Maybe I wouldn’t recognize him. Or maybe he’d walk out and disappear before I could catch sight of him. But there was no missing the Senator. He emerged and the crowd started cheering, and even in person, he looked larger than life. The New Mexico sunshine was helping – casting perfect light down onto the candidate. It was the kind of lighting that makes everyone look great and he was basking in it as he walked across the street toward the crowd.
Senator Kerry works the crowd with both hands, his eyes, and his mouth. While he’s shaking with his right hand, he’s looking at someone else and talking to yet another person -- maximizing his impact on the crowd with the tools he has. Occasionally, his left hand reaches out as well, one more point of contact, one more way to please his public and possibly get some votes.
By the time he works his way down to our end of the street he’s sweating in the heat. His wife Teresa has stopped right in front of me and is talking with a family like she knows them. I overhear something about them having met in Arizona, business cards are exchanged and I unashamedly stare at the woman who could be the first lady. She is more beautiful in person than on television or in the various newspaper photographs I’ve seen.
Kerry is moving more slowly. As he gets closer, the crowd cheers louder. “Help is on the way! Help is on he way!” drowning out the handful of Bush supporters that have shown up and mixed in. I think about how at a Bush event in New Mexico, everyone attending has to sign a form saying they will vote for the president…so they probably don’t get many hecklers. And even though I don’t like what they’re saying, I’m glad the Bush supporters are here.
And then, Kerry is upon us. Despite protests from my intellect, my body kicks into adrenaline mode and I start panicking about what I’ll say if I get to shake his hand. I wipe my palm on my jeans to make sure it’s dry. And laugh at myself. I had been wondering why all these people wanted so badly to touch this man. But now as he is a few paces away, it becomes clear to me. Or at least as clear as it can be. I want to touch him for so many reasons: I want to wish him luck; I want to be able to tell my grandchildren someday that I shook hands with the president on a campaign stop in Albuquerque; and then on some other much more basic level, I want a piece of him, a moment of his attention. I want to have a few seconds in time that I share with this man who is carrying the hopes and dreams of so many – including myself – on his shoulders.
I take a deep breath, stick out my hand and make contact. He grasps my hand in less of a handshake and more of a thumb war grip, or the first in a series of short grips and touches making up a secret handshake.
“I really hope you win,” I say loudly, but probably not quite loud enough. I’m looking at him, but even though I’ve got his hand, his eyes have already moved on down the line. “Thank you!” he says, but he probably wasn’t talking to me, so I stop looking at his face, shift my eyes to his hand locked with mine and let go.
The following is an essay I wrote with the hopes of getting it on the radio...possibly as commentary on NPR's Morning edition. I submitted a shorter version to NPR and haven't heard anything back... so here it is in its entirety:
I am new to the role of political supporter. As a newspaper journalist, I met or was in the same room as many prominent politicians. I covered events with Bill and Hillary Clinton, Laura Bush and others and while I may have been more excited about reporting on certain events, I never let it show. Now that I no longer need to remain impartial and am free to support candidates of my choice, I have a little trouble getting into it. At rallies I can’t bring myself to cheer or even hold a sign up for very long. I remain uneasy about making political donations and posting political bumper stickers on my car. And so, when I waited outside a Catholic church in Albuquerque, New Mexico’s Old Town this Sunday and to catch a glimpse of Senator John Kerry, I really didn’t know what I was in for.
Supporters were cordoned off behind ropes across the street from the church, and as I stood in the crowd, I longed for a press pass and notebook so I could get a better seat and not have to be a part of this giddy group. Despite the oppressive heat, the Kerry supporters were oozing enthusiasm. Their dedication impressed me and I thought about how surreal it would be to emerge from mass to see a few hundred people who all wanted something from you – a smile, an autograph, a handshake.
As I stood there watching various gray-haired congregants exit the church, I wondered whether I might miss Senator Kerry. Maybe I wouldn’t recognize him. Or maybe he’d walk out and disappear before I could catch sight of him. But there was no missing the Senator. He emerged and the crowd started cheering, and even in person, he looked larger than life. The New Mexico sunshine was helping – casting perfect light down onto the candidate. It was the kind of lighting that makes everyone look great and he was basking in it as he walked across the street toward the crowd.
Senator Kerry works the crowd with both hands, his eyes, and his mouth. While he’s shaking with his right hand, he’s looking at someone else and talking to yet another person -- maximizing his impact on the crowd with the tools he has. Occasionally, his left hand reaches out as well, one more point of contact, one more way to please his public and possibly get some votes.
By the time he works his way down to our end of the street he’s sweating in the heat. His wife Teresa has stopped right in front of me and is talking with a family like she knows them. I overhear something about them having met in Arizona, business cards are exchanged and I unashamedly stare at the woman who could be the first lady. She is more beautiful in person than on television or in the various newspaper photographs I’ve seen.
Kerry is moving more slowly. As he gets closer, the crowd cheers louder. “Help is on the way! Help is on he way!” drowning out the handful of Bush supporters that have shown up and mixed in. I think about how at a Bush event in New Mexico, everyone attending has to sign a form saying they will vote for the president…so they probably don’t get many hecklers. And even though I don’t like what they’re saying, I’m glad the Bush supporters are here.
And then, Kerry is upon us. Despite protests from my intellect, my body kicks into adrenaline mode and I start panicking about what I’ll say if I get to shake his hand. I wipe my palm on my jeans to make sure it’s dry. And laugh at myself. I had been wondering why all these people wanted so badly to touch this man. But now as he is a few paces away, it becomes clear to me. Or at least as clear as it can be. I want to touch him for so many reasons: I want to wish him luck; I want to be able to tell my grandchildren someday that I shook hands with the president on a campaign stop in Albuquerque; and then on some other much more basic level, I want a piece of him, a moment of his attention. I want to have a few seconds in time that I share with this man who is carrying the hopes and dreams of so many – including myself – on his shoulders.
I take a deep breath, stick out my hand and make contact. He grasps my hand in less of a handshake and more of a thumb war grip, or the first in a series of short grips and touches making up a secret handshake.
“I really hope you win,” I say loudly, but probably not quite loud enough. I’m looking at him, but even though I’ve got his hand, his eyes have already moved on down the line. “Thank you!” he says, but he probably wasn’t talking to me, so I stop looking at his face, shift my eyes to his hand locked with mine and let go.
Friday, August 06, 2004
Exhaustion
I have noticed that some periods of time are more exhausting than others. This may sound incredibly obvious... but I am not so sure it is... For example, some weeks go by very quickly -- I go to work each day and come home and it's Monday morning and the next thing I know it it's Friday afternoon. Those types of weeks go too quickly to feel exhausting or boring or monotonous (though they probably are monotonous). But then there are weeks like this one during which each day feels like three or four days and by the time Friday afternoon rolls around all I want to do is crawl under the comforter and hibernate. It is one of those Friday afternoons right now... I am soooo tired.
In fact, while trying to type a letter here at work this afternoon, I started nodding off. This was a dire situation not even coffee could fix it. I think I arrived in this end-of-week stupor because I only got six or seven hours of sleep each night this week, I started the week off with my late-night speeding extravaganza, my days at work have been uninspiring and long, last night I went to Santa Fe with Neil and we didn't get home until midnight...and I am sure there must be other reasons... like my binging on sugar this week and my overuse of caffeine.
What bothers me is that this insane schedule and lifestyle are not at all what I am striving for... How do I slow things down long enough to make the changes necessary to live a more balanced life? Or will things just balance themselves out eventually?
I have noticed that some periods of time are more exhausting than others. This may sound incredibly obvious... but I am not so sure it is... For example, some weeks go by very quickly -- I go to work each day and come home and it's Monday morning and the next thing I know it it's Friday afternoon. Those types of weeks go too quickly to feel exhausting or boring or monotonous (though they probably are monotonous). But then there are weeks like this one during which each day feels like three or four days and by the time Friday afternoon rolls around all I want to do is crawl under the comforter and hibernate. It is one of those Friday afternoons right now... I am soooo tired.
In fact, while trying to type a letter here at work this afternoon, I started nodding off. This was a dire situation not even coffee could fix it. I think I arrived in this end-of-week stupor because I only got six or seven hours of sleep each night this week, I started the week off with my late-night speeding extravaganza, my days at work have been uninspiring and long, last night I went to Santa Fe with Neil and we didn't get home until midnight...and I am sure there must be other reasons... like my binging on sugar this week and my overuse of caffeine.
What bothers me is that this insane schedule and lifestyle are not at all what I am striving for... How do I slow things down long enough to make the changes necessary to live a more balanced life? Or will things just balance themselves out eventually?
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
Ticketed
Last week, my dad got tickets to the Ani Difranco concert in Santa Fe. And on Sunday, I attended the concert with my parents and little brother... Going to a concert of a bi-sexual folk singer may not seem like the conventional family bonding activity... and I'm sure it's not... but for some reason, it worked for us. My parents went early and got in line, my brother showed up late, but the concert started late, so it worked out. Other than some issues with people smoking, and a terrible opening act, the evening was fun. I loved the concert, but wished she'd played longer than an hour and 15 minutes... I think my parents liked it and I still have no clue what Dustin thought... After a summer when I thought about going to lots of different concerts and was disappointed by one concert (Los Lonely Boys at the Albuquerque Zoo), it was a joy to rediscover the magic of live music.
Another Kind of Ticket
But then.... I had to drive home to Albuquerque in the middle of the night and Neil had just gotten home from Boston and I couldn't wait to see him and to get to bed and on my way the worst thing happened... I got a stain on my once spotless driving record. I can no longer say that I've never been pulled over for speeding. I can no longer say I've never had a ticket... I went almost 11 years without ever being pulled over; except for once in Utah because of a broken tail light...(I got a warning.)
I would describe the evil way in which the officer pulled me over (basically he tailgated me and made me think that an evil person was trying to run me off the road and kill me and then he turned his siren on)but I really don't want to talk about it...
I've been told that I'm being idiotically sensitive about this whole thing...but I don't care. I'm upset. I didn't want that ticket. I may have been speeding a bit (the cop alleges I was going 89 in a 75) but I still contend that I didn't deserve the ticket. I only went that fast for a couple minutes.. then I caught myself and everyone else on that highway was going faster than me.
Getting caught sucks. Basically, I went too long without a ticket... and now that my perfect record is ruined, I'm devastated... It's like the old woman who never had a cavity on the day she finally gets one... It sucks.
Last week, my dad got tickets to the Ani Difranco concert in Santa Fe. And on Sunday, I attended the concert with my parents and little brother... Going to a concert of a bi-sexual folk singer may not seem like the conventional family bonding activity... and I'm sure it's not... but for some reason, it worked for us. My parents went early and got in line, my brother showed up late, but the concert started late, so it worked out. Other than some issues with people smoking, and a terrible opening act, the evening was fun. I loved the concert, but wished she'd played longer than an hour and 15 minutes... I think my parents liked it and I still have no clue what Dustin thought... After a summer when I thought about going to lots of different concerts and was disappointed by one concert (Los Lonely Boys at the Albuquerque Zoo), it was a joy to rediscover the magic of live music.
Another Kind of Ticket
But then.... I had to drive home to Albuquerque in the middle of the night and Neil had just gotten home from Boston and I couldn't wait to see him and to get to bed and on my way the worst thing happened... I got a stain on my once spotless driving record. I can no longer say that I've never been pulled over for speeding. I can no longer say I've never had a ticket... I went almost 11 years without ever being pulled over; except for once in Utah because of a broken tail light...(I got a warning.)
I would describe the evil way in which the officer pulled me over (basically he tailgated me and made me think that an evil person was trying to run me off the road and kill me and then he turned his siren on)but I really don't want to talk about it...
I've been told that I'm being idiotically sensitive about this whole thing...but I don't care. I'm upset. I didn't want that ticket. I may have been speeding a bit (the cop alleges I was going 89 in a 75) but I still contend that I didn't deserve the ticket. I only went that fast for a couple minutes.. then I caught myself and everyone else on that highway was going faster than me.
Getting caught sucks. Basically, I went too long without a ticket... and now that my perfect record is ruined, I'm devastated... It's like the old woman who never had a cavity on the day she finally gets one... It sucks.
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