So, like, I knew them once in that Internet sort of way...

First, thanks to EVERYONE for their incredible support after my last post. I am amazed by the women in the world and their ability to rally. Your comments and emails meant the world to me. As a reward, I give you a picture of the world's cutest baby trying to gouge out his eye just to level the playing field for all the other mediocre world's cutest babies out there:
Next, I knew these people in the blogosphere and apparently, they want to get married and, dangit, I think they should and, if they want to, have a world's cutest baby to try and compete with mine. So, in order to get married sooner than 2 years from now, they need corporate sponsorship. In order to get corporate sponsorship, they need your vote. I assure you that they are very kind and deserving so I hope you'll vote for them by voting for them @ http://www.ultimateweddingcontest.com/entries/36688.

As for me - doing well. Someday, the baby will leave me be for long enough to post more than that...in the meantime, enjoy the photo of the world's cutest baby and try not to mourn over your own children too much (and, yes, of course, I'm joking about the world's cutest baby stuff, though he is kinda cute, right?!).

Just when you've convinced yourself to ignore the gnawing commitment-based panic in your gut...

What?! I'm a MEREDITH. A....a....a Meredith! I hate her! She can't be....oh....no...my commitment phobia...but...but....it's...totally justified!

*sigh*

I guess I am a Meredith.

I am....

hiding in my office, so Cate the Great wrote me a song for my day (which is Tuesday but I'm hiding this behind the Monday Funny)...

A Sad Song

She came to work this morning

the creature of her routine

moving in the ways she should

while different thoughts shocked through her head

"to hell with this all, I'm not working today"

and she closed the door behind her

hiding away



So she's sitting at her desk while the slow Tuesday passes outside

all quiet in the hallways

her red hair is curled and she's got her comfortable shoes

virtual conversations are keeping her going

and she's silencing her pager

living in her head

hiding away from reality's chill and the face of spurned advances

and it's a smart pretty head, so what's the harm in living there she asks

and the world and reality are trying

intrusions are knocking

but she's pushing them away

singin' along to only the saddest songs

the echoes of her fear and pain

the maps across her hopeful heart

she's singin the blues with the door closed

I am...

wishing I were not so practical as to turn down the gift of two cats, valued at $5000, because living in a 5-cat household would not be good for hygiene or my sister's nerves.

WORLD'S LARGEST DOG

I'm not sure who I think I'm "catching up"...but here goes anyway.

I really don't remember last week for no better reason than it went by that fast. It was Sunday and I was lamenting the lack of attendance at ward choir then it was Wednesday and I was delivering CDs for ward choir and then it was Sunday and I was so fed up that I cancelled ward choir. So, not a week for the record books as far as church service goes.

However, the choir fiasco did lead to one funny event (in my blog-day this would have been a very funny hyperbolic post, but I'm not that clever anymore). I was delivering practice CDs to delinquent choir members (15 of whom live within WALKING DISTANCE of the practice site). The chore wore long and soon it was 10:15 pm. I was sneaking up sidewalks and placing CDs gently on doorsteps. In the midst of one of these attempts, I heard a bark behind me. I turned and saw the WORLD'S LARGEST DOG running at me full speed. I assumed attack position and screamed as loud as my girly lungs would scream. The dog froze. AND THEN IT WHIMPERED! The WORLD'S LARGEST DOG was a co-award winner, it seems, for the prize of WORLD'S WIMPIEST DOG. The dog galloped (not kidding - this dog was HUGE. So huge, I thought it was a grim. Not kidding. I actually thought the word, 'grim' and wondered what my death would entail. It was a very LARGE dog.) back to the teenage child who had the noxious task of taking the dog out for an evening walk.

The boy watched me. I pretended that screaming is a very normal activity. After all, I'm an adult. Adults only do appropriate things, so, therefore, screaming was very natural at 10:15 pm when confronted by the WORLD'S LARGEST DOG. I continued my journey toward's the door. Unfortunately, the stellar choir members in this house had chosen uneven stone to line the walk. My journey to the door resounded across the neighborhood: OUCH! OW! WHOOPS. OOPS. OH MAN! OUCH!

The teenage boy must have somehow controlled his giggling at this point to approach me. "Uhm, lady. You're going to wake my parents and that's bad for me. Can I help you?"

I tossed my hair back. I am a grown up. Whatever I do is perfectly acceptable and no responsible teenage boy can snicker me into feeling differently. I handed him the CD with the instructions to deliver it. He walked over to the doorstep, set it down, and laughed his way back to the pavement without so much as a stubbed toe. I sniffed and held my head high. I am a grownup. Whatever I do is marvelous. In this case - marvelously entertaining.

At 10:45, I was attacked by the WORLD'S LARGEST BEATLE outside another house....and that's when I decided the choir members didn't really deserve practice CDs. After all, 15 live within walking distance and could easily hear the music by attending practice. Hardly worth dying over. I wasn't about to tempt the fates lest the words 'WORLD'S LARGEST POSSUM' enter my realm of experience.

Apart from classic hijinx, life was fairly mundane. Work. Book club. Heat wave. Nothing spectacular. FR and I had a good date on Saturday. We went go-kart and bumper boats racing. I totally schooled a group of pre-adolescent boys who lamented that they got thrown off the go-kart track (for very good reason, I might say, even if I did pull similar tricks more than once to keep FR from gaining the lead or drenching me with a watergun). Then all the guys drenched me good in return for my very responsible lecture. I thought that unfair....and I let them know it by mastering aim of my watergun. After the games, FR and I grabbed In N Out before catching a movie and playing some board games. The day could only have been better if we'd had time for Lazer Tag. (Okay, I would also have preferred if it hadn't been so expensive! I am not an expensive date but when you add the gas money and entrance prices - nearly $100 for the whole day!! Really, not necessary. I send this vibe to the Universe. I am totally cool with dates that don't cost money. And I keep saying so!)

Sunday, I wanted to drive out to Ventura to see FR and that worried me so I stubbornly stayed home and worked on some wondrously exciting surprises! I can't wait to unveil them!

Angels in the Parking Kiosk

**Thanks for your Blog God submissions! I'll be reading and awarding! For any late-comers, the party ain't today, so nominate your friends (and yourself)!**

I keep running into the nicest people at the most unusual times. First, I met the Glendale parking monitor just after I was stood up for the first date I've agreed to in months. I was crying and discouraged when the kindly older man looked in my car. He talked to me for 5 minutes without a single platitude. He listened as so few people do. He never made me feel stupid or less for feeling upset by the events of my life. He helped me to feel okay about the future. As I finally readied to leave, he said, "I am always here from 6-8. If you need a friend, I will be here. I think you're doing just fine with your life." He restored my faith in men and probably all mankind.

Then today I was running around and feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. A few days ago, the plastic undercarriage of my car had fallen off. I haven't had time to do a thing. I've had too much to do at work. Too many people with too many problems. No time to go to the dealer. My brother-in-law is busy with his own life. And there were these pesky fires. I felt very alone about the whole issue - silly as it seems. I hopped in my car and pulled towards the entrance of the parking structure where a kindly older man with no teeth and dirty clothes was talking the the parking attendant. He looked at my undercarriage-hanging car and signaled for me to stop.

"I know, I know," I said kindly. "I just don't have time to get it fixed right now."

The man shook his head. "Wait. I can fix it. I have everything I need."

He dashed off to his car and returned with the right equipment. Before I could protest, he was under the car. Five minutes later, he re-emerged. "It's perfect. Better than when you bought it."

He looked so proud. I thanked him and offered to pay for parts. I had nearly ten dollars in my hand. He waved it away, wouldn't think of accepting payment. I smiled and thanked him again before driving off.

I don't know why I had two angels in parking lots this week but I'm grateful for them. They came just as I needed them. They had no agenda. I got to just be me for a few minutes - and it was okay. They were happy to help me and didn't see me as less capable just because I'm tired or not thriving or not even really happy every minute of every day. I'm so glad for them.

So, to everyone out there practicing acts of kindness for no reason at all - thank you. The world is only as good as we make it.

Not long after the last post...

Part of the change in my job over the past year has included the acquisition of the world's best personal assistant. She makes my life possible. Sometimes, I'll only be thinking that I want her to do something when she shows up with the completed project. I suppose I need to find out when Administrative Professionals day is scheduled this year and buy her a heap-big gift.

Anyway, I was sitting in my office when the Assistant arrived to do some filing. (Out of nowhere. Just as I'd piled about 4 mountains worth of charts on the cabinet rather than filing them myself. A miracle, I tell you, a true miracle. Yet I digress...) She hums a bit as she files. (Seriously, where did I find her?!) We chatted for a minute. Then she asked me what had happened last October.

Last October is the elephant in the room at work. Everyone knows that I went from flying happy to barely functional. Every one knows that one day I announced to my friends that my boyfriend and I would probably get married in December. And everyone knows I didn't get married but instead spiraled into sobs and cried off my makeup by 8:30 each morning.

Few have dared ask for the details. I've given them my blythe line about his not being who he seemed to be or told them he was cheating. But a few weeks ago, I decided to stop lying and pretending and to just be honest. So, instead of shrugging my shoulders and saying, "Oh, in a few short weeks I lost my childhood home, my cat, and my boyfriend" as I normally do, I started the paragraph correctly.

I turned around (this is a conversation that can only be told - and only ever will be told - face to fac3). "Last October, I discovered that the great guy I was going to marry could also be a violent and terrifying person who didn't like the word no and lived several lives at the same time."

Now, that's all I feel comfortable sharing with the anonymous public. Suffice it to say that I've had a lot to deal with this year. In the beginning, I stayed quiet to protect him. Then I wanted to protect myself. The fallout would make fans of General Hospital shake their heads in disbelief and write "the screenwriters suck" all over the Internet. But it happened to me anyway, regardless of how lame the plot.

I told my assistant the story free from embellishment or emotion. In the end, she nodded and said, "Are you okay now?"

I laughed. I am okay. She wouldn't have dared ask otherwise. Everyone at work has noticed. They've commented that "my laughter is back." I imagine more people will begin to ask for details. I apologize to them and to everyone else in my life. I don't rebound quickly and I'm sorry that innocent people had to struggle through each mini-mourning period over the past year. I thank those who toughed it out - and, as always, want to praise my sister above all because she had to live with me. (I'm not sure what god she offended in a past life to get me as a sister, but, alas, what's done is done...here's hoping she has earned a nice life as a lazy housecat next time around.)

The Assistant didn't pretend to be impressed with my bravery or any such thing. She just nodded. A few minutes later, I told her I appreciated that response.

"There's nothing honorable about anything I've done or said in years," I said and I meant it. I've been a completely foolish human being. My shame and embarrassment are complete.

Given that she works for me, she disagreed (smart woman) and said that she understands how painful and difficult relationships can be.

I hope she believed that I've done nothing respectable. I may have survived a lot, but 80% of it was my own stupidity in the making. As the gurus will say, I manifested my own destiny. The real heroes of this world are the ones who walk through life creating beauty, kindness, and stability despite the world's topsy-turvy nature. Drama queens only get what they seek - a helluva lot of drama, loneliness, fear, and pain.

My assistant went back to humming and filing. I learn more from her every day.

It's Not Just Sting I Love....

Well, the day came and passed. The Police. Live in Concert. And me with the WORST SEATS in human history and having had to convince a friend to go with me since I couldn't find a date. She was a good sport with the seats - honestly, all we could see was the black scaffolding holding up the stage - and with the fact that she hates punk rock music but didn't want me to have to go alone. She was even amazing when I decided I couldn't watch black all night and went in search of a free upgrade. Good thing I'm cute and energetic - the security guard turned a very blind eye to my 2-person SRO section in direct view of the main stage. How could he refuse me?! It was obvious that not one of the 55,000 people in attendance loved The Police more - I danced wildly to every song, sang the words as loudly as possible, and cried during the montage. He would have had to be heartless to push me back to the horrid seat. Plus, he would have lost the amusement at watching me go absolutely NUTS all night. He'd never seen someone so sober be so crazy.

I never thought I'd see my favorite band live. The Police came to Idaho on the heels of the Sex Pistols, as they did everywhere else. Except we heard them in 1992...7 years after the band broke up. (I'm not joking - quite honestly, everything gets to Idaho 10 years late - it's a very strange phenomenon. Last summer, I overheard some kids at the mall gushing about how upset Coolio was over being parodied by Weird Al. Time vortex. Just plain weird.)

I fell in love with The Police on the day my sister brought home a tape of Synchronicity. I stole it. Outright. Sorry, Sis. I played that tape until my brother bought me the complete Police collection for Christmas. Those CDs have been with me on many important days - my first solo drive, my first date, my first day at college, the drive to California. I love the story of the band - 3 old musicians (at 24, ha ha) who have kept thousands of fans entranced for over 20 years. Of course, then Sting went all....rock star...and then he decided to learn Tantric sex and save the world.

The Police then:


I've attempted to see Sting perform several times merely because he was the only member of my beloved Police still performing. Each time, something got in the way - usually Sunday observances. I'm glad I was obedient and skipped the concerts. Because seeing The Police together...it was worth every minute of waiting.

The Police now:


I cried as they made their bows. The show had been incredible - musical, political, pure, and fun. The whole show was well put-together with transitions that made sense. They did 3 encores (pretty standard, I think) and I wasn't ready for it to end - my friend, stil sleepy from the wine she drank, drug me out of the stadium and then endured my gushing as she dozed. If I could, I would be there again tonight. Even if the seats were awful. And I wondered what the world could accomplish if we could ever get 55,000 people united to shout something a bit more socially relevant than "ee-ooo-eee-ooo-eeee-oh!"

I suppose the Police would say.....do do do de da da da....their innocence will pull you through....or maybe....when the world is running down, you make the best of what's still around...

Because it never takes fewer than 4 hours...

Please understand. I am in the midst of a very busy time of life. I'm so busy that I've put a message on my work phone telling people that I'll be forwarding calls through the end of next week, so they should expect to hear from my assistant and ought to attempt to resolve the matter on their own prior to leaving a message (I'm not kidding - that's really what it says). I haven't seen my octegenarian friend in so long that his senility will convince him I'm a brand new person...which means I'll have to hear the prostitute story again. I've put all volunteer work on semi-permanent hold. My study guides and books for the recertification exam are collecting dust...and not for any scientific purpose. And the closest I've come to hoogity in the past 3 weeks involved Pam and Jim's pending first date on The Office.

So, given that I'm not doing anything I normally do, what's making my life so non-stop thrill ride these days?

Car shopping.

Yes. I've become a professional car shopper. It's an easy career to achieve - you just have to wreck your brand new car within 6 days of purchase. As the car spins around, you'll find yourself indoctrinated into Car Buying Hell....errrrr....Society.

On the first run at car buying, you probably had several items that proved your amateur status:
1) A down payment, and
2) Optimism

By the second run, your insurance company will have swallowed up both items, leaving you a diploma-bearing graduate of the School of Hard Knocks. You, too, can be a car buying professional - the type of client - desperate, broke, alone, and carless - that car selling professionals use to hone their technique.

Since you now have no down payment, the original car that you researched, planned, and saved for purchase, may possibly be out of reach. What fun! Now you get to investigate more cars! You're a true professional! Jumping websites between sobs of frustration as you build your own until you find you can't afford any car without a down payment! What joy! You have truly arrived!*

There's a lot to love in the car buying experience - the lying, disappointments, test drives for who knows what reasons, the lines - oh the lines, lines, lines, lines! But the thing I love the most is the 4 hours of endless waiting while your salesman takes someone else for a ride....I mean, "talks to his manager" about the amazing deal he's about to present to you.

So, as I sat in the Nissan dealership chewing on a bit of gum to stave off endless despair, I began to ponder ways to amuse myself, I realized how easy it would be to place personal phone calls while left in the cubicle. I picked up the phone. But, dangit, I didn't have any phone numbers with me. Next time, however, I'm calling other dealerships on their dollar, and then reconnecting with my friend in Spain during the 3rd hour. The idea amused me for 15 minutes. Then I stood up, looked guiltily about, and plopped myself in the desk chair. Eureka! They had left the computer up! I really wanted to log in and discover all the car buying secrets hidden from me...but that seemed a little like cheating. So, instead, I surfed the Internet and played Solitaire, while realizing bemusedly that if I ever met a jerk salesman who wouldn't listen to me, I could get him to this point and then develop a driving urge to learn all about Internet porn from his work computer. Yeah, it's cruel -but that's the name of the game.

In the end, I pulled the old "I have to go and pick up the kids" line that gets me out the door. I don't feel guilty. They just wasted over $100 in American productivity. That buys me at least one little white lie, I think.

*It's not quite this bad. Take this bad and back up one step. No, not that far. Come this way a bit. A bit more. What do you mean you're back where you started?! Okay, now just another inch or so towards me. Thats' perfect. That's exactly how it is.

In Honor of the Prius

I had it for only 6 days. 6 great days. In my sister's words, "No car has ever given more to its owner." It wa smy own Saving Private Ryan...in a very whoever-it-was-that-died-to-save-everyone kind of way.

Last Friday, while traveling to the train station, I experienced a devastating crash. I was hit on the passenger side. Our cars spun around several times before slamming into a pole in order to stop momentum. When I got out of the car, I knew my car was toast. The front was shredded. The engine block was still intact but looked as though it had been relocated exactly 8 inches to the left. Bells, whistles, and warning lights created a multimedia display of destruction.

It was over.

In 6 days, my Prius had driven 2,000 miles and saved my life. If you're car shopping, I'd like to recommend a Toyota. They honestly take a 5-star safety rating pretty seriously.

Or maybe I'm a superhero. It's possible. I've never really challenged the hypothesis. See - my car looks like it was auditioning for a role in this ad:

But this is my worst injury:

Coincedence? I think not. Is it also coincedence that they're completing changing the traffic pattern at my crash site? Probably not. But will it help me? Only time will tell, my friends.

In the meantime, I've gotta go and save Metropolis. Again. And then Batman wants to talk/whine about some problem he's having in Gotham. Good thing for me that L.A. doesn't want to be saved. I just don't know where I'd find the time.

Karma, tell me what I've done!

I rolled out of bed today after a series of very strange dreams involving my life as an anatomy teacher. I felt groggy. I'd been gainfully employed all night. And students can be very challenging. Do they never read the syllabus?!

I drug down the stairs, over 2 quarrelling cats, and past my makeshift closet (which works quite well). My hand automatically groped for the light switch to the nearby bathroom.

As soon as I flicked the switch, the shower curtain fell down and my nephew streaked past in a gross misinterpretation of that Annie song You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile.*

Hmmm....I thought to myself. That was a strange combination of occurrences.

An hour later, I did my best tribute to Hobo Bob by hopping on a moving train. As the passengers raised eyebrows at me and my hair tumbled out of its braid, I realized today might not be the day to tempt fate by pretending to write anything controversial.

Well - that whole karma concern - and the fact that I was too engrossed in 24 to write last night. And what I tried to write kept coming out as "and then Jack...errr...the Universe shot some....wait, no, never mind, he's just talking on his cell again...omigosh! Jack...err, the Universe...DO SOMETHING!! You have a gun, don't you?!"

So - nope - no clever or stimulating banter today today. However, if you stay tuned, I'm sure something else weird will happen to me today...