Frost My House With Glitter

I love Christmas. The bright lights, the Christmas cheer seems to permeate everywhere. Also I don’t know if you noticed but generally there seems to be a higher level of humanity around this time of year. I see neighbours who I swear did not speak English call out greetings as I leave the house and strangely the middle finger seems to be oddly absent on my morning race into work. This year Mr. Rogue’s parents celebrated Thanksgiving with us and therefore where in town for taking down the Thanksgiving decorations and putting up the Christmas decorations. Now that the wedding is over I can let more and more of my crazy loose in front of them, pre wedding crazy needs to be TIGHTLY reigned in and visiting can only happen in small bursts of time as crazy is VERY HARD to keep in control. I may be a BIT obsessive with decorating for the holidays but if being a neurotic holiday decorator is my small ray of sunshine in this oppressive world then DAMNIT I am going to frost my house with glitter and screw the fact that the glitter flakes make tiny cuts in my lungs, and that these cuts are likely going to be the cause of my demise.

Shucking the thought of conforming to those yuppie fake tree people who are either too lazy to go and get a live tree every year, too cheap to pay for the 40 dollar tree every year when the crappy piece of fake plastic is just as nice, or are one of those tree hugging uneducated Nazis who do not realize that Christmas trees come from companies that specifically FARM those trees hence it is a farm product and they don’t just run whilly-nilly over the hillsides chopping down every evergreen they come across to sell at the stores. Target, our destination of choice, because it houses so many wonderful things all in one huge place is where we are headed. The funniest part about selecting the tree is seeing the men attempt to wrestle the tree to the car, then on top of the car, and then tie it down. I also like to lie on my back and look up the skylight and view the sky through our roof looking at the trunk flapping in the breeze while some part in the back of my brain wonders how it would play out if I cut one of the ropes while driving 80 on the freeway.





Once we get home the boys wrestle with the tree, lights, and lugging the Christmas gear out of the back of the garage as us women (Mr. Rogue’s Mother and I) play arts and crafts. Here we are using GODS gift to crafts, the glue gun, to create the wreath for the front door.



Decorating the tree is sort of easy and anti climatic, but I do love the way my living room now looks with the soft glow of the Christmas lights and the decorations all out. Maybe I should just make the theme in my house Christmas instead of tranquil beach. It’s a thought.

I Am A Princess And I Play the Violin

I love the symphony and there is no place better to go then the Disney Hall in downtown Los Angeles. The building was funded by Lillian Allen (Disney’s widow) and opened in 2003. The outside is a swirling, twisting building covered in curved metal, Tim Burton would have been VERY happy to call this his home and as his feet crossed the threshold for the first time mine would be the pair crossing right behind him because I would be moving in also. We arrived with the joy of watching the awe of the buildings architecture creep over our guests because the building is truly an amazing sight. The inside is as astonishing as the outside with twisted Douglas-fir which mimics the wood of instruments. Because the construction is so precise every seat has stellar sound. It is the most surreal experience to feel like you are the only one the orchestra is playing for. You can hear every note like you are sitting in the front row.



We were fortunate in getting incredible tickets that were dead center stage. As we settled to listen the first piece we heard was Odyssey “Atmosphere” a very eerie piece where the musical texture of the violins were screeching set the hairs on the back of my arm on end. Seeing the LA Phil Harmonic live makes the raw power of the music so real. The peaks and valleys where instruments are barely resonating a sound are lost on modern day CDs and radio. You cannot get the full impact of the music. GOD I so wish I could go every week.

The second set was Strauss’s “Four Last Songs” where an amazing opera singer, Christine Brewer, accompanied the orchestra she was truly phenomenal in her range. The music was sung in German yet I believe that the feeling is much more powerful when your brain can forget the words and just listen to the tone and passion.

The last piece heard was Symphony No. 6 in F major or Pastoral by Beethoven. I knew all of these songs well thanks to my young early impressions of classical watching Fantasia and Disney movies which started my love for amazing classical music. Beyond any animation and creativity with design I think the single most wonderful thing to come out of Disney movies were bringing classic music to our children.

http://yonneg.multiply.com/video/item/7/Disneys_Fantasia-Symphony_No._6_part_1_-_para_D._Estelven

What an end to an enchanted evening. Excuse me while I go to sleep and dream of becoming a princess who is secretly a famous violinist so I can go to all the concerts I like because I WILL BE A PART OF THE ORCHESTRA.

I Dream of Cactus

Today in our continuing efforts to keep Mr. Rogue’s parents entertained we have decided to skip the traditional day after Thanksgiving Christmas decorating day and go to Huntington Gardens which I had heard wonderful things about but had never been able to gather enough energy on a day off to get my butt out of bed and commit a whole day walking in the gardens. However I am so excited to say that we went and they were WONDERFUL. We had a perfect California fall day about 70 degrees and mostly sunny. Which was perfect for spending time outside, and because I have been exercising more I did not get tired on our walk at all. Because there are 120 acres that you can stroll though we had to be selective in what we wanted to see and because Mr. Rogue’s Mother was the guest and the plant lover of the group we allowed her to pick the gardens of her choice.

We ended up seeing the Chinese Garden, Japanese Garden, Rose Garden, Australian Garden, Desert Garden and Desert Conservatory. I think out of everything I we saw in the 4 hours of walking I loved the desert gardens the best. There were so many varieties, and a ton of color, and you have to respect the spinney bastards that have carved out a home in a land where few things can live and protect themselves from EVERYTHING trying to eat it. Now I have a new imaginary device in which I think about tossing my less favourite people into a pit of cactus’s and watch as they beg for mercy as they are stabbed by the millions of little razors. I love Mother Nature!

Hibernating See You In The Spring

With our most recent wedding and the fact that we are now an official couple there will come the inevitable tough conversation of “How to split up the holidays”. For a newly wed couple this is a super hard choice since both of us would like to spend every holiday with our own side of the family. Since both of our parents are in different states, his in North Carolina and mine are in whatever city the RV that they live in is parked, so it isn’t like there is an easy choice of convenience.

After discussions, negotiations and trying to find something that works for everyone we have reached something that we agreed to try for a few years. One year we will spend Thanksgiving with his family and Christmas with mine and then the following year we will swap holidays. Of course once we have kids old enough to know what Christmas means we may need to modify the schedule, I mean I dream of my kids waking up in the morning and opening gifts from Santa at their own home in LA not all over the country visiting every holiday. But we don’t have to worry about kids right now.

This year it is Thanksgiving with Mr. Rogue’s parents and they came to visit us (yea no flying). The preparation of our Thanksgiving meal went off without a hitch. Mr. Rogue and I are becoming so accustomed to working together in the kitchen that our communication has lowered itself to a few guttural grunts and the occasional glance or hand gesture. I have never seen a smoother meal made, nor a more abundant one for only six people. We were sans friends who decided to go to Hawaii, Mr. and Mrs. Rambo who decided to go to Mr. Rambo’s uncles house which left Mr. Rogue and I, Mr. Rogue’s parents and Mrs. Dancer, my best friend and her man.

Mr. Rogue was manager of the turkey. He stuffed the bird with some celery, onion, carrot, and garlic which helped give a great gravy (we will defiantly use this again in the future). He created his special blend rub which was brushed on the skin of the bird. And the period basting was all his work of art.

Mr. Rogue’s mother and I made the pumpkin pies using a new crust from my favourite recipe book ‘The Joy of Cooking’. Following the instructions to the letter we however managed to make the crust melt down the sides of the pan getting it a little too warm in the ‘gently warming the crust’ phase. Mr. Rogue’s mother who had spent a lot of time getting the edges scalloped just so was almost in tears. Thank god we were able to mould the crust back up the sides so that we could still use them for the pies. Even though the crusts were a bit wobbly and not so nice looking it did not affect that taste which came out OH SO YUMMY!

I was so excited to use all of our new wedding china. How every fitting that we were able to do so for our first married Thanksgiving dinner. We had:Turkey and Gravy, Stuffing, Blended Sweet Potatoes, Mashed Potatoes, Green Bean Casserole, Corn Pudding, and Pillsbury dough rolls.

At the end of the meal the carcass resembled something scavenging wolves killed, mutilated, and left in the middle of the woods rather then our beautiful 24 lb bird.

Ah, I love Thanksgiving. The glorious time of year when you can gorge yourself so much that your stomach expands as to force all your internal organs to the far reaches of your body cavity, when you can and are encouraged and egged on to eat so much that you cannot find a comfortable position to sit in, when you feel that if you move your head too quickly you will surely vomit all over your mothers beautiful tablecloth, where the food rests piled to the top of your jugular and you SWEAR you could hibernate all winter with the amount of calories you have shoved into your body RIGHT THIS SECOND. This is one of the season’s I love most of all. I am off to sleep off the rest of winter, see you in the spring.

If You Have Never Been To The Spa

The first question I get asked from my new mother-in-law when I announce that we are going to the spa is ‘What should I expect?’ and my answer is PURE UNADULTURATED HEAVEN. As she eagerly listens to my every detail eyes glazing in rapture and nodding her head, I tell her my version of how a spa works. You go into this most amazing space, where everyone is very nice, they bow down and kiss your feet as rose petals are thrown on the path by young beautiful virgins, they guide you into a dimly lit space where you can romp naked and play in the fountain or soak in the hot tub, where they will then take you by the hand and lead you to a room where a million fairies will give you and your body the most lovely experience of your life as the tension is just pulled and pushed out of every single muscle in your entire body. And as you step naked from the massage table hundreds of beautiful men applaud and clap and tell you what an amazingly stunning woman you are and you get to pick the best man who then gets the honour of handing you your warmed perfumed robe. Or at least it is SOMETHING like that – I am very artistic maybe I visualize a tinsy winsy bit.

I loved going to the spa with Mr. Rogue’s mom, it was like taking a kid to see Disneyland for the first time. It is wonderful to visit an experience that you take for granted and see it through other people’s eyes for the first time. Damn my jaded eyes, I am officially getting old.

Wolves Invade the Nest

Houseguests visits are bitter sweet. You love them, the friends and family that come to see you; of course you want them to visit. However at the end of an extended stay you are grateful to go back to your quirky, there are no houseguests so we can revert to our odd uncensored behaviour. When your in-laws come to visit for 6 whole days for the first time since you were newly married the equation of sanity becomes significantly harder. And then once you hear they are staying with at the house instead of a hotel stakes multiply. So if the difficulty A is multiplied by the ‘trauma of dealing with parents as an adult’ B and the fact that you are dealing with your in-laws and not your own parents is divided by C and then six days without sex multiply by 1 million is enough to make my head go spinning off my spine and roll into yard so the birds can peck out my eyes. So on top of the worry of impressing them that I am the perfect wife for their boy and make a good impression, that means keeping all my crazy quirks as hidden as possible with someone going to the bathroom and sleeping not more than 10 feet away, but also to keep them entertained so they have a great time when they are here. Because they have never visited before, except for a brief stay when Mr. Rogue and I first started dating where I saw them briefly, and because they are not my parents I don’t really know what they like to do to fill up their free time. I mean there are only so many conversations you can have and when in doubt my philosophy is to over plan a ton of things to do because you can always cut things out on the fly but it is harder to get out of those awkward conversations about their running list of health problems or conversations about when to expect their future grandchildren without being able to pull a plan B out of the list of activities, hey lets work a puzzle as you scurry from the room to get the puzzle you picked up the day before at Target for this EXACT EMERGENCY.

So on the list of things to do we have: Bake pies, bake bread, bake cookies, bake carrot cake, go to Huntington gardens, lots of unseen movies (yea no interacting required), go to the Disney hall, decorate for Christmas, puzzles and other games, and introducing them to the Wii. Thank god they are wonderful people but I know by the end of the week I will be happy to get my house back to normal and dance naked in the moonbeams and beat my husband when I please.

Morning Gardening

Because Mr. Rogue’s parents are visiting for the first time this week, and because I am a complete neurotic mess because I have completely overbooked my time and have no time left to work on the outside of the house before my guests arrive tomorrow evening, I have concluded that the only way to get the plants in the back yard into some kind of order is to wake up early the next two days. Because Satan invented day light savings time I cannot work on the yard when I get home from work at 6, because the sun sets in LA right now at 4:30pm which makes PERFECT SENCE if you had a pea brain the size of Baby Bush’s. So I am left with waking up at the crack of dawn, and mornings they just are not my thing, I tend to do a lot of stretching and wining and complaining and to untangle all my limbs from the bed and get both feet planted on the floor is quite the fete. A fete not unlike what I would imagine a baby chick goes through when attempting to hatch its egg. Getting out of bed for work is a monumental task and I have shaved down my routine and streamlined it to the point that I do not have to get out of bed until 7 minutes before I have to walk out the door to be to work on time. Seven minutes to potty, wash face, brush, floss, rake hair, throw on something decent to wear and dash out the door. So to work on the yard I am setting my alarm clock an hour and thirty seven minutes before I have to leave which is quite dangerous for my phone (which is my alarm). In order to protect it from my part of the persona that wakes up and is uncontrollable for 1.5 minutes I have decided to place the phone away from the bed, which usually works because by the time I wake, find the phone to bash in the loud noise that evily woke me and make it stop working I am generally coherent. OH evil plot forming note to self this would be a great excuse to buy a new phone, I will use this tactic to break it UMMMMM iPhone.

Once I am up, in my beloved Crocs, and into the cold crisp air I find a great surprise. I have found that I love to garden in the morning! The getting up part not so much but the GARDENING part is so relaxing. I skip that frenzied 7 minutes before I rush out the door and into the hour drive in traffic which I long to hit everyone that pisses me off which is generally every third car I pass, and move into a meditative state of clipping and cutting in peace and quiet. As I leave the house today calmer than I have been in a while, the back yard has been cut back, the house is full of sweet smelling rose’s right from my own back yard, and I am left with a wonderful sense of accomplishment. Too bad that feeling will be crushed after 5 minutes on the road but I guess we need to grab happiness when we can.

Book Club - "Professor And The Madman"

Today I met Mrs. Cutie Pie before book club, we went to lunch and then the spa for our favourite Relaxation massages and we have been warned by the Book Club organizer Mrs. O.C. to NOT come to book club to relaxed. UH it is a massage but right, note to self make sure I cut off 5 people in traffic, get in at least one fight, and to make sure stress about some inane thing a bit before book club so I don’t look TOO relaxed.

The book for the book club this month was “The Professor and the Madman”, a story I found very interesting about the creation of the Oxford English dictionary. The story is centered on two main figures. Professor James Murray who spent more than 40 years of his life creating the dictionary and Dr Minor who lived in an insane asylum and invented a system to help the dictionary the most. Although the book could have been a little bit better and was not my favourite I really appreciate how well written it was and how he told about the most horrific of events without passion and matter of factly. I felt a great interest in the process of how the dictionary was created, using hundreds of thousands of volunteers, writing everything by hand, and the massive organization process that was needed in order to get this mammoth undertaking complete. How Dr Minor was a product of his missionary upbringing and how he was driven crazy by the horrifying trials he had to endure in the army as a surgeon. I believe this book humanized a remarkable literary achievement and made this historical even interesting in how it was written wrapped into an interesting story. Unfortunately the other girls in the club did not like the book at all so the conversations were stilted and after 10 minutes we resorted to gossiping and eating, wine and girl talk are the best!

BBBS 3 - Miss. Little’s Cactus Garden

One of the hardest things about being a big sister for the Big Brothers Big Sisters Organizations is that you are not used to being around young kids so you have no idea what would be cool or fun for them to do. So far I think I have done pretty well and today was mostly good. After visiting the Getty two weeks ago I got the idea from seeing their potted cactus plants that it would be something fun for Ms. Little and I to do. I picked her up at her house around 11, after my 8 am haircut, and we went to the nursery to pick up a few more cacti (I had already purchased a few and just wanted to grab a couple more). Getting to the house we started planting a gigantic pot for her and also a pot for me. Unfortunately one of the cacti was the spawn of the devil with needles like microscopic grains of glass. I should have thrown it away when it bit Mr. Rogue earlier in the week but insanely I thought handling it with gloves would prevent the minute tiny pickers that you can barely see and when they get on your hand or your leg or in your eye it feels like a million shards of glass jabbing into every pore. Ms. Little got bit twice and then I put one of my old shirts over her arms to prevent future incidents. After we finished planting, as suggested by a good friend of mine Mrs. O.C., we painted a sign that Ms. Little could put into the pot with her name. I was hoping to do a few things with this activity. One have fun, but also to give her something that she can see every time she comes over as a little part of my house that is hers, and to see things grow over a long period of time. Here is a photo of Ms Little and our potted cactus’s.

After we had lunch we took Rogue to the dog park. He was ecstatic, not because he could not wait to visit with all the dogs but because his primary mission in life is to pee on EVERYTHING IN SIGHT and because I am a mean mommy and don’t let him pee excessively on our walks this is really his version of heaven. Ms. Little and I had a great time seeing all the different dogs and playing with the puppies we ran across. One of which was a shar pei puppy all rolls and soft snugly puppy fur. He was so adorable that I almost tucked him under my arm and bolted football player style to my car.

Each time Ms. Little and I hang out I try to put in at least 15 minutes of quality life training conversation. Today it was on our way to the ice cream store, where we talked about the importance of doing well in school so you can go to college and get a good job, being very careful to not get pregnant, and to not use drugs. I am not sure how much she is retaining at this point but it is never too early to start these conversations.

I Dream Of Weather

Being in the land of eternal sunshine is wonderful. We have perfect days, sunny days, not to hot, not to cold, not a cloud in the sky, it is true they way they show California on TV. Those shows like 90210 and “The OC”, it really is that beautiful. Now I know some people will run out their door in bare feet to skid in ice to their snow-covered car and freeze in sub zero weather on their way to my computer to KILL ME or at least tear off all my appendages and drag me back to said snowy hell hole after they read this BUT I am brave; I miss the weather. I miss the seasons, I miss being able to judge time by the leaves turning, snow falling, and welcoming the sun back again. It has been four years of perfection and now that the pain of digging my car out of a mountain of snow and having to scrape the ice off my windshield with a Prince CD cover because I forgot to buy a new window scraper after I threw it out the window at that crazy senile senior citizen that stole my parking spot at the mall, now that that pain has faded I can miss the good things. Waking up in the morning and seeing the perfect new snowfall outside blanketing every tree, branch, and house; going on a Saturday hike at the cider mill with the trees all ablaze in color. I think those seasons makes the complete ecstasy you feel when summer finally arrives all the more brilliant. Now I have perfection I miss the imperfection that made me really appreciate it all.

Confessions of a Shop-aholic

On my lunch break, as a balm for the trauma I dealt with going to therapy yesterday, I decided to lighten up my mood with this beautiful patent leather shimmery purple goodness; purchased at my favourite LA store Runway. It was sitting in the front window and I could not resist giving it a home.


DESIGNER UNKNOWN

TR1 - Gouge Out My Eyes With A Red Hot Poker

Therapy is the worst thing imaginable. I did not want to go because I thought it was going to be terrible, excruciating, horrible experience. I was very very wrong. It is so much worse. First of all it is voluntary pain, my favourite kind, because we all want to climb on that doctors chair and get torn about, reveal our most intimate thoughts and have someone analyze how CRAZY we really are. Especially by a maternal sort of woman with an office much like my grandmas tea room, where every time I look at her I just want to slide over and put my head on her breast and breath in her moth ball smell as she gently pats my sobbing head and tells me everything is going to be ok. And I am trying to rationalize that digging up old wounds that are festering yes, but at least they are festering quietly all the way in the back corner of the darkest of darkest of corners of your mind is a good idea. Out of sight out of mind is the general motto of one in denial, which I so obviously was, please hell take me back PLEASE. Because until I had to fill out that bullshit questionnaire in that tiny office and check mark almost every box listed under sever depression I was wonderfully thinking that I could just come a few times and take a magic fairy pill and be cured, hallelujah. But NO, denial bubble popped, I am depressed and in dire need of therapy. Therapy likes to dig up all those disgusting memories and parade them over and over and over again until you know there is not an ounce of blood left in your entire body for them to possibly drain and then OOOOOO they find just a bit more to wring out over here. Oh and the increased ANGER, sleepless nights, and general pain is an amazing side effect. And although there are no consequences to opening up to a complete stranger, no judging, who are we kidding. Doctors are just a bunch of sadists that like to play god and make us lesser mere mortals suffer endlessly. I cried the rest of the day, I could not sleep at night, I keep getting flashes of anxt that were slowing receding until the damn therapist poked her red hot poker into my brain. Therapy rocks!

How Felix Was Born

I like my house clean, I like everything put away, I even label and date all my meat in my freezer as my neighbour Mrs. Rambo LOVES to tell everyone she meets to my embarrassment, the only chore I really HATE is my daily/every-other-day sweep of the entire house. I have three babies, all with tails and a TON of fur. And man can they shed! It is like because they are indoor animals and I have personally REVOKED their right to be the animals they are and god forbid I plugged up all the holes so there are no rats or chances of escape they have collaborated, voted and unanimously decided that there were just going to try to help their poor human friends with their poor cold hardwood floors and ceramic tiles, and that they were going to make it their lives mission to attempt to layer their hair on the floor to keep our feet warm. Unfortunately I have been having a hard time communicating that I want my floors to stay shiny and clean which means keep your damn hair to YOURSELF and never shed again. The subject has been a point of contention between us for a long time but came to a screeching head this past weekend. I had swept when I got home from work on Friday and I ended up with what I normally do, what looked like a large cat in the middle of my kitchen because that is LITTERALLY the amount of hair I get every time I sweep. Then again Sunday morning while Mr. Rogue was cooking breakfast I swept again. And even though nothing was visibly different in my routine and my results I lost my mind. Right there, my 30 year old body, in the middle of the kitchen threw back my head let out a screeching cry and lost control of all my limbs as I threw myself on the floor and let the poltergeist of the 2 year old child tantrum enter my body. Mr. Rogue just stood by the stove, his eyes budging incredulously, his mouth hanging wide, his limp arm holding the spatula with egg dripping onto the floor. Needles to say later that day he restored my sanity and bought the Rumba, a magical machine that will vacuum your floors daily, a magical machine that I am in love with, a machine that came today and caused more glee than a 5 year old Christmas morning.



Mr. Rogue and I sat on the couch, sipping our tea, watching this wonder clean our family room floor and we could not be prouder. Rogue and Picasso after a cursory sniff have chosen to ignore the new addition into the family. But surprisingly Seurat who is the LAZIEST mammal on the planet, who is so fat he cannot even jump onto the back of the couch, who would not move from that spot on the floor because it gets the most foot traffic according to his VERY precise calculations, follows Felix around the house like we have finally found his long lost friend. We have decided it will be entered into our family unit and be dubbed Felix. Oh and sorry Rogue, Seurat and Picasso; Felix is defiantly now our favourite child, you better just work harder now to be the favourite. The stakes have been raised let the war begin.

A Constant Beacon Of Love

One of the most wonderful items from the wedding was our guestbook. It is a photo hung right above our fireplace in our bedroom so we can see it every day. We decided to do a photo of us, that would be updated each anniversary, and around that photo we have a large matte that the people who attended our wedding, our loved ones, family and friends signed. Now that our wedding has passed it is nice to wake up every morning and take a moment to be thankful for all the wonderful people in our lives who have helped us to get to the place we are now, and who will help us in the months and years to come.

We Are Never Truly Happy With How We Look

Standing in line at the grocery store looking at magazines, watching a movie, billboard ads are depressing. It is our culture in advertising to create an unattainable beauty in the world that the rest of us fall short of every time. Our overexposure to perfect models with perfect airbrushing, or actresses that are the top .05% of the world in terms of beauty is what we hold ourselves in comparison with. And I don’t care how good your self image is of yourself; deep down you as a woman are always felt lacking a certain something. Now that I am older I can see what the industry does, hell I work in the graphic design/advertising world so I am defiantly contributing to the problem, the issue is our young teens. Teaching my little sister how to be happy and confident with the way she looks, eventually having a daughter of my own and being responsible for helping cultivate her-self image is daunting. I would get plastic surgery in a heartbeat if I did not have to go through the pain, the explaining of how I got a new face, the problem that my husband may not recognize me. It is such a false world that the princess in me would desperately love love love to be a part of. Of course if I was a star and I could afford a chef, a trainer, a beautician, a personal stylist, and people to handle all the mundane things in life that just cause stress; I would be gorgeous also instead of this harried husk of a woman with frizzy hair, bad skin, and overweight. DAMN money I need to win the lottery.

The Fires Are Raging

Every year the wild hills around our beloved city burn, and personally I think that this is the only way the large blanket of sin can be lifted away. Professionals however attribute to the fact that we live in a desert, the high hot temperatures, the Santa Ana winds, which basically means nature is pissed. This was the worst fires in recent history burring in Santa Barbra. On a serious note it is TRAGIC the lives and personal property that is lost during this time. The fires are far from where I live and work, I have never been evacuated, but the whole of Los Angeles holds their breath as the large quantities of ash rain down. When the wind is right, like it was today, you cannot see the ash is so thick and everyone is cautioned to stay indoors all day.

You can only help to think about the end of the world, as you look out your window and see no one in the streets, the sun and sky are blocked from view, the streets, houses, plants are all covered with a thin layer of ash, and it looks like a scene from a creepy sci-fi movie.

Most Expensive Piece In My Wardrobe

Ok so I was married about a month ago and now my GORGEOUS dress sits in a bag in the closet waiting for me to make up my mind on its fate. I love my dress and I am trying to decide what to do with it. I know I won’t wear it again. So here are my options:

1. Sell the dress – most practical
2. Save the dress for daughter – she probably won’t want to wear it
3. Save the dress and chop it up and make heirloom pieces – this idea is really appealing I can make christening gowns, flower girl dress, keep small pieces to be incorporated into my daughters dress
4. Trash the dress

I am seriously considering this last option because of the latest fad in wedding photography has got me on my knees BEGGING to take my own photos.

I could also sell the dress or save it to chop it up and buy another cheap dress either at the thrift store or online to trash. Oh what to do! The AGONY!

I am going to talk to both Mrs. Bulldog and Mrs. Cutie Pie to see if they want to go in on a photographer so we can trash our dresses together. That way it would be much more economical and could be a really fun experience. Oh how my aching heart urns to drench its perfect whiteness in mud and dirt.

Conversation Gone Awry

Talking on the phone is what girls do, well with me being so far away and unattached from all my friends and family, that is what I do to stay in touch with people I love and people I feel like will listen to me when I am having problems or issues. Us girls can go on and on and on about ANYTHING and everything, hot boys, those catty girls, the sex and the city movie. This particular conversation with my friend Mrs. Ivy League started off well. Telling her she had to get out of that soul sucking parasite of a school, sympathizing with her crazy ass full schedule that leaves no time for her to feel like she is not part of a Borg, and trying to do a general cheer and motivating dance. But when you are not talking to a grandparent and the conversation flows from a crappy job to the time you got influenza twice, how if felt, the symptoms, and how to detect it in others; and you then shift into the potential gas issue you are having and trying to walk through how it feels so you can self diagnose the issue, you KNOW you are getting REALLY REALLY old.

Relationship Snippet

Mr. Rogue: “Your butt is freezing!!!!! Why is it so cold.”
Me: “I don’t know, maybe because IT’S COLD OUTSIDE. Roll over.”
Mr. Rogue rolls over
Me: “Damn your butt is HOT! How did it get so hot?”
Mr. Rogue: “Elves.”
Me: “What?”
Mr. Rogue: “Elves.”
Me: “How did elves make your butt warm?”
Mr. Rogue: “I don’t know.”

This is the story of my life. You find someone with what you want but they won’t tell you how to get it, EVEN husband’s keep valuable pieces of intelligence from you.

It’s A Possum

Mr. Rogue: “I think there is a possum in the living room.”
Me: “WHAT!?!”
Mr. Rogue: “Come quick I think there is a possum in the living room.”

I run to the living room

Me: “Where????”
Mr. Rogue: “Over there.”
Me: “Where by the cat!”
Mr. Rogue: “OH that is the cat. He is so FAT so it is not my fault I thought it was a possum.”
Me: “You are a jerk.”

Understanding Without Speaking

Me: “I have not been doing well.”

Ms. Dancer: “I was worried that it would be harder for you after the wedding was over and you had fewer things to occupy your mind.”

Me: “I called some therapists. Mr. Rogue and I had a long talk last night and he brought up the fact that he was excited during the honeymoon because I was really happy, but when I got home and reverted back to old habits of being depressed he realized that I have not been happy for a long time.”

Ms. Dancer: “Well I have a few pictures from us getting ready (at the wedding) and such that showed that your mind was elsewhere at times. I know it is hard for you and I think that in part this is all extremely hard for you because you have had such a hard time with death in general your entire life. When you were younger you ran from it as much as you could. Obviously i have been thinking about this. So although what has happened would be extremely hard on any person, it is exceptionally hard for you. Because you cannot hide from this.”

Me: “Right, and although I am not super depressed right now I am not happy at all so I am making an appointment before it gets bad again.”

Ms. Dancer: “I think that a therapist will help you find ways to work through it and deal with it on terms that you can live with. I am proud that you came to this decision, I have not wanted to push, mainly because I know pushing does not work with you. I am always going to be here for you to talk though. Hair combing fingers ready. And if you want me to come with you to your first appointment even to just sit in the waiting room for you I will.”

This is why she is so wonderful.

My Mirror Into Myself

Our closest relationships are the most enlightening and the easiest place to have our mistakes mirrored to us. Close relationships are the only thing we can truly use to see ourselves clearly. So when your closest relationship, my husband in this case, tells you over dinner that, ‘ You are not happy’. It is hard to hear because I have buried this unhappiness in the same file with my 1998 yearbook, and the dead roses I saved from prom, and a million other ‘painful things I try not to think about’. At least his delivery was damn near perfect

Mr. Rogue: “I liked how happy you were on the honey moon, how giggly you were, it has been a long time since I have seen you that happy. You are beautiful when you are happy.”

That is when something in me wakes up. That the fact that I am PROUD I have held it together and not run through the streets naked, or collapsed in the middle of the grocery store because you cannot find the soy sauce and that was the tiny thing that day that pushed you off the precipice. The fact that I have not completely broken down is an accomplishment. But it is not enough because my partner is showing me the unhappy mirror of myself. Myself that is sliding down a slipper slope of slime and getting worse not better.

So what have I learned, that not shattering is not the same as being happy. So in order to try and get back to my wonderfully insane happiness I am accepting defeat that I cannot do this alone and I am going to therapy. My favourite thing aside from the fact that I will hopefully get better (duh) is that I can join the club and start a majority of my sentences with ‘Well my therapist said’ .

Elation Is Pulled Down By Discrimination

I am so excited our first African American president has been elected, but I truly believe that in California it is a lesser win, a lesser feeling of joy then if he could have been elected without the stigma of another form of discrimination. A Supreme Court ruling in the state of California allowed same sex marriages under the law and more than 18,000 couples tied the knot. Now that has all been undone because during our presidential election, 52% of the voters in California voted yes on prop 8 and passed a law to make gay marriage illegal.

Unfortunately the Christian rights group in foreseeing this law being passed bought up tons of advertising space on Chinese, Spanish, African American, and Korean markets. In a state that is 50% minority and growing they just needed to convince these demographics that Prop 8 needed to be passed, and they had a lot of time to do it in. No on 8 activists were simply too little to late for these markets and failed to make any impact to minimize the damage pro campaigns have been feeding to the population months before the Supreme Court ruling on May 15, 2008. No activists were on the ball and yes activists were sadly lagging until just a few weeks before the election.

The Fourteenth Amendment provides a broad definition of citizenship and provides equal protection under the law of all persons. A key case in Texas (Lawrence v. Texas) where Lawrence, a gay man, was arrested for sodomy and appealed to the supreme court where it was held that “intimate consensual sexual conduct was part of the liberty protected by substantive due process under the Fourteenth Amendment.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lawrence_v._Texas). Basically saying that sodomy was allowed as long as it was a ‘victimless crime’, meaning a act between adults in the privacy of their own home.

With prop 8 you have to ask yourself a few questions. Under prop 8:
1. Are gay couples being discriminated against – before you answer that lets look at the definition
a. Discrimination toward or against a person or group is the prejudicial treatment of them based on certain characteristics. It can be positive behavior directed towards a certain group, or negative behavior directed against a certain group.
2. Are gays rights being upheld – before you answer that lets look at the Civil Rights Act of 1866
a. Statement of equal rights - All persons within the jurisdiction of the United States shall have the same right in every State and Territory to make and enforce contracts, to sue, be parties, give evidence, and to the full and equal benefit of all laws and proceedings for the security of persons and property as is enjoyed by white citizens, and shall be subject to like punishment, pains, penalties, taxes, licenses, and exactions of every kind, and to no other.
3. Is marriage a Judeo Christian term and therefore a religious definition, i.e. we can use religion as an argument to BAN Gay marriage – before you answer this lets take a look at what this would mean
a. Anyone who went through a non-Christian ceremony would not really be married either. This would mean Muslims, Jewish, Hindus, Buddhists, Civil ceremonies.

Ok now here are the answers READY?
1. Yes gays are being discriminated against
2. No their rights are not being upheld
3. No marriage is not a religious term – look at EVERY government document you have to fill out; check one, are you single, married, divorced, widowed

Still want to argue religion? Your major scriptures against gay marriage are

Corinthians 6:9 Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.

Genesis 13:13 Now the men of Sodom were wicked and were SINNING GREATLY against the Lord.

Genesis 19:4-5, 11-13, 24 The men of Sodom were said to be “SINNING GREATLY” because of their MEN having SEX with MEN. And the lord destroyed the city because of it.

Matthew 19:4-5 “Haven’t you read,” [Jesus] replied, “that at the beginning the CREATOR ‘made them MALE AND FEMALE,’ [5] and said, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’?

Ok, the bible does talk about these acts of sinning greatly, then let’s look at some other laws from the bible we don’t use anymore in our current culture
1. Any person, who curseth his mother or father, must be killed.
2. Women on their period are unclean and should be kept separate from the rest of the population
3. Cut off the hands of a thief
4. If your wife is committing adultery you have the right to stone her to death
5. God allows multiple wives

Still want to argue that Straight marriage is being ruined and be less meaningful if a gay couple that loves each other wants to get married. Gay marriages are not ruining straight marriages – the DIVORCE rates are 50% percent of first marriages, 67% of second and 74% of third marriages end in divorce. (Forest Institute of Professional Psychology, Missouri)

This should not be a state decision; this should be an amendment to the constitution. Gay marriages should be allowed nationwide.

And if you are still arguing please look at this
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W4xfMisqab8

The Best Day Of My Life So Far

WOW – what a whirlwind the past month has been. Mr. Rogue and I returned from our honeymoon and still I can't quite grasp the fact that this whole crazy thing I have been planning for over a year is OVER! October 18th, my wedding day, was by far the best day of my life so far for a billion reasons.

Things I hoped/dreamed/wished for:
1. Marrying the best man in the world, my life, my love, my best friend
2. having my family and friends and everyone we loved together to celebrate and all have a super fabulous time
3. No rain, hail, snow, tornado; hey it is Michigan it can happen
4. no major catastrophes with the vendors
5. the flaming cherries jubilee would not catch anyone on fire
6. a feeling that at the end of the day I would not have changed any of it



The things I didn’t plan for were relatively minor:
1. the limo driver showed up saying he had not been paid – which I totally had paid the secretary – so I just paid him again
2. the dj showed up saying he had not been paid – so I just paid him again
3. the fact that by the end of the night I could not really breathe in my dress

Despite these small issues, which were not even really major issues, everything was so wonderful, and exciting, and glorious, and so perfect I will remember it for the rest of my life. I really just tried to relax and enjoy the day. Nothing could have taken the smile off my face, my best friends were getting ready with me all morning, I gloried in the tearful but so heartfelt ceremony, I loved the 10 min my husband and I stole just after the wedding before photos, and the dance filled night of celebration. Now I just need those pictures and a new hobby to fill up the gargantuan amount of hours that are now just sitting unused because the wedding planning, errands, to do lists are complete. Maybe the violin?

The Craving

Me: “I need chocolate”
Mr. Rogue: “UHH you just told me to take the Halloween chocolate to work yesterday so there is no chocolate in the house.”
Me: batting my eyes “Will you go get some for me?”
Mr. Rogue: “It is 11:00PM and I have been drinking.”
Me: “I just need some, why can’t you understand that.”

Comes back with a small box of Godiva chocolate

Me: “Oh I SOOOOOOO love you right now.”
Mr. Rogue: “Yea, and we have that chocolate cover liqueur shot candies.”
Me: “I think we are onto something big!”

LACMA Museum - Vanity Fair

Seeing parts of history in the cover and guts of a pop magazine as a remarkable photographic history is really amazing. If they taught history in school in such a visual and interesting way instead of the VERY tedious and boring lectures that droned on and on in monotone until every second of that clock felt like it was an hour spent in hell I probably would have paid much more attention to the facts. Or if my history teacher had been Tom Cruise, but I regress into my 16 year old self.

The exhibit was wonderful, old photos of actors, famous inventors, and articles on politics, history, and fashion. It was such a joy to see the wide spectrum of people and events that they featured from Claude Monet to Miley Cirus. I was in heaven. The exhibition explores the ways in which photography and celebrities have worked together and changed as the time went on focusing on the timeframe of Vanity Fair’s 1913 creation to the present.

Some of my favourite shots were

Hollywood Ladies; Nicole Kidman, Catherine Deneuve, Meryl Street, Gwyneth Paltrow, Cate Blanchett, Kate Winslet, Vanessa Redgrave, Chole Sevigny, Sophia Loren and Penelope Cruz by Annie Leibovitz
OMG Hilary, you are so understated, but this shot! AMAZING! Her body looks ridiculously toned, the dymanism of the shot, her hair whipping in the wind. This shot is primal fantastic.

Hilary Swank by Norman Jean Roy
OMG Hilary, you are so understated, but this shot! AMAZING! Her body looks ridiculously toned, the dymanism of the shot, her hair whipping in the wind. This shot is primal fantastic.

Scarlett Johansson and Keira Knightly by Annie Leibovitz
These two look like they belong in some 18th century painting. Scarlett Johansson is so beautiful and to me looks like a real woman with curves and dips (although a highly airbrushed one). I love the dynamic of this shot, naked with a touch of arrogance to the tilts of their chins.

Julia Roberts by Herb Ritts

Julia seems to be filled with so much light and love. Her fun easy spirit was captured in this giggly girl pose with all her petticoats awry. I wish I had gotten a wedding photo like this one.

Becoming Mrs. Rogue

It is crazy to see yourself growing up. Now that the wedding madness is over I am really trying to wrap my head around the fact that I am an adult. I have ignored most of the signs; I graduated college, got a real office job, bought a house, etc... All the signs were there, me growing up, but it seems like I have been so busy that I have been missing these not so stubble hints. So now I am Mrs. Rogue, I have a husband. Weird I still feel really young!

Sinking In

No one is happy with the way the economy is going right now. It is about the equivalent of shaking all your money, stocks, 401k and throwing it in the toilet watching it swirl into some unseen abyss.

Still I bask in the afterglow of the Obama election. I am still happier today that I have been in a long time about the state of the United States, even with the economic bad news and worldwide recession. And the election map (see below) is the most heartening map I have seen from the New York Times that shows how countries shifted more Democratic this cycle then ever before. There has not been a landslide election like this since Regan.



My favourite Obama statement is simple yet has a WEALTH of meaning, “Yes we can.” I feel so honoured to have been a part of this most wonderful piece of history and I can picture myself talking to my grandchild about her history class and saying YES I remember the day that wonderful man was elected.

Back To The Daily Grind

After excessive amounts of gorgeous sunshine kissing your skin, unfiltered ocean side breezes of fresh air, having my new husband slather me with sun block, hour and hours of sex, enjoying hourly frozen drinks of coconut with rum, naptimes when you are tired, food when you are hungry, an impossibly stress free vacation and the best time of my life I am suddenly and BRUTALLY pulled back to reality. Sitting here at my computer, for 9 hours, my eyes go red and dry, the flickering florescent lights are enough to make me mad, and I look longingly out the window at the trees I cannot touch and the air I cannot breathe and wonder WHY, after an extended time away, humans force themselves to be so unnatural. I feel like I got out of the zoo, I banded with the other inmates and got free for three blessed weeks, and then somehow the gamekeeper tricked me, lured me back, and now I am again sitting in my cage wondering and planning my next escape. And I have a great job, I can only imagine how much harder it would be for those poor shmucks who hate getting up in the mornings, who on the commute to work would almost rather drive off the road and get into an accident because the hospital would ALMOST be worth not having to into the office and dealing with that ‘he’s defiantly not smarter than a sixth grader’ boss.

BBBS 2 - Little Getty

I joined Big Brothers Big Sisters for two reasons. I have been wanting to do this for a while, I think it is important to volunteer, especially to help children who are our future. Also I want to because I am still dealing with my depression and maybe being near a needy child, and being there for her with her losses, fears and connecting with them will help me work through my issues. Or at least put them into better prospective. I love kids but I am not ready to have them yet, and this is a perfect situation. It’s like rent a kid, you pick them up, do fun things, and then you get to drop them off and go home. I don’t know why all people don’t just borrow kids; maybe this is the PERFECT business model. A company where you can RENT kids and puppies and return the when you are done. BRILLIANT!Have you ever noticed when you hang out with kids you are constantly brought into the present, and you get to spend time with someone who does not have an agenda, who isn’t secretly wishing they could stab you in the face. I love how kids help me see the world through new eyes and I DEFINATLY need some help with that.Our second trip out, I gave Ms. Little the option of going hiking OR going to a museum. The adorable girl chooses the museum; I really love this kid already. I decided to take her to the Getty because of the beautiful landscaping, sweeping vistas of the city, and a variety of artwork. Also we could go to the drawing class and she loves to draw.

THE GETTY

I think she loved the tram the best. “You mean we get to go on THAT. Super cool!”. We walked around and looked at the art, which she got bored of, it is hard to teach ourselves how to get an 11 year old to be interested in what she is seeing. Note to self work on engaging on their level. When she got bored of the art we went to the interactive kiosk which she liked for about 5 minutes. Her attention span is short and it is hard to constantly keep things moving. So I did what any rational person I duct taped her mouth and threw her in the trunk, aka I took her to the store and let her look at all the cool stuff and play with the CD player. We spent more time in the store looking at all the souvenirs than the actual museum.

ELIZABETH AND THE CD PLAYER

During the art class we had a great time except for the small mishap where the guard tried to blow out my right ear drum. Being at a museum there are certain rules you follow. Don’t talk loud, don’t run, and never EVER touch any of the artwork. We had gone over these rules 10 times in the car on the way to the museum and another million times as we walked around the gallery. Yet while looking at the paintings she did what everyone longs to do, she reached out and TOUCHED a work of art. As I panicked the guard BELLOWED to the crowded room and ran to tackle us. I assessed the situation and we were no match he was like a linebacker and we mere ants under his gigantic cleat foot. Here is where I prostrated myself on the floor and grovelled, apologized, and was forced to accept blame for something I had nothing to do with.

My favourite times with Ms. Little are when I randomly become an idiot just to get a smile on her face. Drinking hot chocolate I decided to smash my face into the whipped cream and grin at her until I got a response. She is so delightful. This is the photo of our combined madness.

LOSE THIER MINDS AND EXPLODE WITH LAUGHTER

Sometimes I wonder if what I do with Ms. Little is really going to make a difference. And in these moments of self doubt I either wish for a large bar of chocolate and a shot of vodka, or that I had never signed up. Then the sun breaks through the clouds and magical conversations happen.

Ms. Little – "Oh no there is a cop!"

Me – "It’s ok we are not doing anything wrong so the cop is not going to bother us." Long pause. "Ms. Little, are you afraid of the cops."

Ms. Little – "My mom is. Yea they are bad."

Me – "Cops are only trying to make people follow the rules. As long as you follow the rules you will be ok."

Ms. Little – "They took my daddy and mommy to jail. Have you been in jail?"

Me – "No, never."

Ms. Little – "Really, everyone I know has been in jail."

Me – "I have never broken the rules. As long as you live your life within the rules the cops won’t bother you and you don’t have to go to jail."

Ms. Little – "Hum, I never thought about it that way, can we get ice cream."

It’s these conversations, thrown in with all the fun, as she trusts me more that will make a bigger impact in her life and how she sees the world. I am proud to be a big sister.

Sky Falls On My Head

There is nothing my body hates more than when you screw up the sleeping schedule. Today is the mark of Daylight savings time and I loathe it with every molecule of my ENTIRE being. Well except for that one small piece of kid in me that loves the time change in the fall for the extra hour I get to sleep but that kid in me does not realize until too late that that hour of extra sleep makes all my evenings in the winter cold and dark. I mean come-on it is 3:30 and there is more light coming from my monitors then out my floor to ceiling windows in my office. My body rhythms get completely messed up and although I understand that the sky falling on my head an hour earlier in the winter benefits some I would rather not have the sun start setting at 4:20 pm and let the nights slowly fade away like getting old or getting fat. Because we jump an entire hour I feel like I get jolted with a million volts of electricity and my body can never get used to the time difference. Every year from the first day my arm is twisted behind my back and I am forced to conform to what the rest of the state is doing and turn back my multiple clocks, or what I do beat Mr. Rogue with a bat until he changes them, because changing them myself would be somehow giving in; until that happy day way too many days later when the world returns to reason I always suffer from sleep deprivation and a feeling that someone just took away one of my god given rights. And I know deep down there is a difference during this time in my life which reduces my IQ a solid 15 points from “simply brilliant” to merely “amazing”. There is a difference! ALTHOUGH YOU CANNOT PROVE IT SCIENTIFICALLY!

I think the biggest problem is that we can no longer morally justify the issue that started the whole process. The congressmen stopped their lecherous pursuits long enough to argue that the poor country kid should not have to walk to school in the dark, I mean the poor kid already lives in the middle of Kansas and already has ALOT against him. But that statistic has to be outdated by now it is almost 2009! I understand we do not want our children to get hit but by the time I was allowed to walk to the bus stop without a parent they had already taught me to avoid cars, strangers with candy, and wild packs of hungry looking animals. Kids are not stupid and we have infantilized our younger adults to the point that instead of being responsible kids we have a bunch of spoiled babies.

The whole process needs to be killed with a big stick.