The Mystery of the Missing Repair

There once was a car from Volkswagen
Whose faith in service was surely worth braggin'
Except that sadly it was blighted
With an engine light so oft lighted
that its owner breathed like the dragon.

Under warranty, the dealer would say
Only a small deductible, you shall pay
but when the owner drove happily home
and yet again the light again shone!
the dealer said come back another day

So the owner said, this is not right
why did you not put out my light?
What is wrong with my car that makes it shine
What is wrong with this dear car of mine?

But the dealer that slippery foe,
Would not say, or did not know,
The system, you see, is very sensitive indeed
You need a professional check in your time of need!
A sensor replaced, a wire jiggle
any thing another deductible to wiggle.

So be warned my fellow of the light in the dash
That frightens and sends one off in a flash
The problem may be that there is no problem at all
and the system itself is the problem -- that's all.
So for all of the fancy spending sensing device
I step on the gas and listen, sounds good- it goes-- that's nice...

OK that was fun.
So the engine light went on again the next day. There is nothing wrong with the car except the diagnostic system. So when hubby called the service rep to ask that this be reevaluated under the fee already paid, they were quick to note that the engine light could be an indicator of some 400 possible things that could be wrong with the car. So in theory, at $100 deductible ($90 for the diagnostic of course) you could spend 40,000 ... I wonder if that counts replacing the sensors, which seemed to be the issue both times so far.... hmmm smell a cash cow. Mean while the car runs FINE..... Damn those little warning lights increasing our cortisol levels.
So in the realm of the ridiculous that is my tale of fixing my car that was not broken... And once again, it amazes me that most of the time, to most of us( me included) we the people accept this as ok, normal, and pay the bill, sign the paper. etc. We give lemmings a bad name.

Regularity

It is reassuring to know that there are corporations out there literally scheming to make sure I give a sh...t. Or maybe are concerned for my bowel health, that I may experience bloating or discomfort? Or perhaps it is just sponsored by the heart association that is sure that by increasing my daily intake of fiber I am sure to lower my cholesterol (which surely must be high), and prevent heart disease? So that I can live and work longer and continue to pay my insurance premiums without claim or file for medicare disability?

What EXACTLY does it mean when you come home to find a fairly large, unsolicited sample of fiber supplement in your mailbox? I thought it was a package from Amazon. Markets are collapsing, dire economic predictions, belt-tightening-- yet some marketing genius thought THIS was the perfect time to sell me on a fiber laxative. Seems to me most people might be a little loose in the bowel these days without any assistance. Never mind nauseous from the politics.
One more for the Either Supremely Amusing or Annoying "What are people thinking?!?" file... I've been smiling and shaking my head all afternoon at this one...

Media meltdown

One morning a week or so ago the TV blew up. It had been behaving erratically and then one morning in the middle of Sponge Bob, it gave up its ghost with a puff of smoke. The children were devastated. What will we do now? What will we do? There is nothing to do! Dad came and tried to set up the computer with a DVD but the computer crashed and when rebooted would not see the DVD device. Hmm. He spent 4 hrs. So the kids could watch TV. But the curse was too strong.

The TV still sits mute. But we have eaten meals at the table more often in the last week than in the last three months, we have played card games and board games. We rode bikes and took walks. We just talked.

In the interim my husband and I talked alot about cable and what we really want and use, and found that we want little and end up paying for a big package of stuff that we don't want. There is no way to say no thank you I don't want that. And no matter what fancy promotion/rewards/premium offer you sign up for after fees and the promotional period ends the cost is obscene. Similar to the obscene disproportion of space that breakfast cereal and soda take up in a grocery store.

I find myself again in that place of does any one else notice how insane this is?
If Keeping up with the Kardashians is your thing, well .. never mind. But ever the National Geographic Programming has fallen into the hyper dramatized, digitally recreated mode. So little is authentic any more.

I watched Fame with K1 and shocked her with some breasts and the f word, because she has dreams of fame that are fed by Disney and I wanted her to see a little more reality of the struggle. What really impressed me how normal the characters in the film looked. Normal everyday buck-teethed people dressed in hand-me-downs with immigrant parents. Not these shiny perfect beings with clueless or absent rich parents that live on Planet Disney.

So maybe the next title will be in search of authenticity.

Relief in Sight

I love summer, I really do, but by this time of year I am glad for fall and for that turning of the wheel for Moms, the first day of school. As wonderful as summer is the kids are like the unemployed hanging around without focus, gradually losing inertia. I feel like the cruise director trying to provide diversions. I am always glad to have the structure of the schedule back again and the rhythm of the days returns quickly. Somehow everyone seems more content.

Arte y something or other

Blog awards. I thank Kim for awarding me. I am generally suspicious of links and chains, and when I tried to hook up the link for this award I got a notice saying the link had been eliminated because it was a phishing scam, although the link through Rose's site still works. I may just be link jinxed. Because none of the other attached links for the blogs I awarded worked either. Rather than muck around on my last day off.. please see my recommended list for the links to the blogs and go to Roses for the link to Arte y Pico if you must.


1) Suz-Q aka "Q" , my long lost friend on the left coast, whose dry wit I thoroughly enjoy and miss in person and whose photography captures the stunning beauty of the natural world. She can make a tomato look more wonderous than a flower. Harvest moon.

2) Annie Kelliher , well, Annie, can certainly speak for herself ! As you will see. Annie gave me fire when I needed it, and a sword to cut through the BS. Annie is excellent at that. Her ruminations are always deep which appeal to me, and her word slice right through to the point mercilessly. Always refreshing to be around a person who knows what they think and says it. Thanks Annie. Writers and witches and words... oh my!

3)Kim - The Wicked Step mom: NOT. Instantly married with four kids and still really very grounded. One of the strongest and sanest people I know. She uses her blog as a diary to get through the "can you believe this?" s of picking up the pieces after a highly dysfunctional-- and still involved enough to do damage-- biological mother. And I am guessing release the outrage before it sets in her heart. From the community she gets the grounding and the support that I imagine is help in doing what is and oh soooo valuable job. There are innocents that may be healed. I admire her for giving her self over so to trying. Just because it is right and good. Diary of a Stepmom

4) Rose- What Rose made today -- I have to admit I just learned of this one the day before yeasterday when I came off the gerbil wheel, but I can feel Rose's robust merry earth mother shining through at me. I can smell the earth and the green when I look at the photos. And Rose's Mead is what gold would taste like if it could. I always imagine she has nature's attention where ever she passes, probably because she has always been so mindful of it .

crazy lttle after thought

When I grow up I want to be dead. I say this because I know with utter confidence that for years after I am dead and scattered I will still be preapproved for several low interest credit cards, term life insurance, and special magazine subscription offers for a limited time only. I know that the trade unions that I belonged to will still be supporting my interests since the assure me I am a valued member. I also know that the restaurant whose guest book I signed a few years ago will still send me postcards of their specials even to an address 3,000 miles away.
See, live people are not so special after all.

The little things that keep me sane

The creature on top of the bird cage was my birthday present. Her name is Luna-- because I said so, whenever the children ask why. She also could have been named Zoom or Bonk, because that is what she does alternately, much to the delight of all of us. She is a living life lesson playing out before us and joy to me in spite of the zooming when one should be sleeping and the early morning ankle biting.

One morning when I was getting ready for work suddenly the pint sized cat was IN the birdcage with the bird. Then the bird was out and the cat was in , and it took a few very long and feather flying seconds to extricate the cat and toss it through closing door, catch the confused and indignant bird and restore order. And put twist ties on all the cage doors in case Miss Puddy-tat decided she wanted a repeat of that action. Cool TOY!

I watch this creature like some kind of little miracle. First The gusto with which she zooms into each game, throwing her self in no worries. Then the bonk. How many times she has missed the mark and BAM-- and she landed, dazed, shook it off for a second and got right on to the next thing. No ruminating. No lingering on it.

That ability to do the same stupid thing over and over again unselfconsciously is at once endearing and amusing to us. Like clowns. Are we condescending or are we enjoying a part of us in another that we have lost?

So even this little kitten makes me wonder so deeply. My gift and my curse I guess.

Ok, so I lied...

Wow where have I been? I'm not quite sure. On the gerbil wheel I suppose. No, perhaps that would not be fair. I have been on a journey, allowing the universe to guide me and show me where I am needed. (Which apparently is a lot of places.) I bring something to my work place that I can see is truly needed, but at the same time I can see all the lessons I am needing to learn there. Some how I have entered a period of profound lucidity. The way seems clear. I don't know where I am going but it doesn't seem to matter any more. Some kind of restless striving I have always felt has completely gone from me. In some ways it feels strangely like apathy, but that may just be a judgement of my mind and the social programming.

The cheerleading adventure was a good exercise in learning to go with the flow and find some enjoyment in a situation that held many irritants for me. Also to set a boundary and make a difficult and unpopular decision not to continue. The overall out come was good.

K1 had her 14th birthday (uh, more like, birthweek), and is stressing over going to the high school in the fall. She had a Promotion (graduation) and class night( prom Jr) which may as well have been the real thing for all the "Mom, you don't understand,..."s
K2 has summer school and tutoring all summer as well as day camps. She has a week of horse camp in Aug which she has been dreaming of all year. I'm curious to see how that works out because she said she didn't want to go to day camp at the lake because of the bugs. Hmm. I'm not saying a word. I'll just put bug spray on her and see how much she really loves horses...
Hubby receives honorable mention for always being there even if not truly present, and always trying.
For anyone wondering there has been no further activity in the Mansfield murder. We wait. It will be 3 years Aug 28. At least we see our nephews often and they are well.

I'm baaaack......

Finally. I am back from the land of overly large sequined bows and glitter eyshadow blended with sweat and athletic endorphins. I will admit the kool aid kicked in the last few weeks especially with 3 or 4 first places in a row and two of them national championships. The endorphins start running vicariously and I guess I can see how the parents get hooked.
It was nuts, but the right thing to try. Glad I did. May repeat with certain major revisions to the approach, but not immediately. Grades suffered during competetions. Life suffered during competitions. Heck. Life was, the whole family, competitions. Too much.

And that brings me to my next " what is WRONG with this world ?" rant.

More on the subject of too much. K1's class trip for 8th grade to was to NYC.
They went to Madame Tussauds, on a boat tour around the statue of liberty, to see the Blue Man Group . Lunch at Mars 2112. The trip cost more than >$150 . We had to bring them to school to get the bus at 5:15 am and pick them up at 10pm. It was on a wednesday. All the kids were told that they were expected to be in school inspite of the trip. The next day k2 said it was "ok". She was tired. She went to school. She said half the kids weren't there.
What is wrong with this picture?
DUh people!

I have always been here

I have always looked out from behind these eyes

It feels like more than a lifetime

Feels like more than a lifetime

Sometimes I get tired of the waiting

Sometimes I get tired of being in here

Is this the way it has always been?

Could it ever have been different?

Do you ever get tired of the waiting?

Do you ever get tired of being in there?

Don't worry, nobody lives forever,

Nobody lives forever

"A New Machine - Part I"

Pink Floyd

Momentary Lapse of Reason

On my feet

Well now I finally know what they call the flu, and I will definitely get my flu shot every year after this experience. Although I did get it this year and of course the strain that hit was not included in the vaccine. I have to admit I've never had more than a bad cold until now. I am upright at last, and swaying through my daily routine, but I still feel really weird. Dizzy, off balance and sometimes my skin just hurts like I have a fever, but I don't. At its worst-- muscle aches and headache that were unrelieved by anything over the counter. Pure misery. A day or two of that sure has you feeling grateful for good health!

Back to work tomorrow and then I have two days worth of competitions to go to this weekend, although I plan to abbreviate my exposure as much as possible. Then it's 3 weekends off! Even K1 is feeling the lack of time ( :0 we don't have any time to go shopping OMG!)

All I have to do is make it through April...

Plague or something like it...

So I have finally caught a cold that airborne couldn't keep at bay. I spent the whole day on the couch after going to bed at 6pm last night. I was wondering when I would break my healthy streak. People around me have been falling like flies to all sorts of flu like symptoms and I felt strangely immune. Not anymore! (or as inspector clouseau says "neyt anymuir").
I told my girls they had to take care of me today. K1 cleaned the kitchen, K2 made me soup--ok she forgot it in the microwave and I had to crawl out to get it myself, but it is the thought that counts, right? Speaking of thoughts, K1 asks me if I am better yet. She always has an agenda and I think she is gravely inconvenienced at the moment.
The fun of the game of take care of mom evaporated quickly.

I always love the question "are you feeling better yet ?" or "are you feeling any better ?" It is a question that wants only one answer. It is an implied hurry up already. No, I am not any better yet, thank you very much. When you see me upright for any longer than it takes to go to the bathroom or the kitchen and back you might inquire again. K1 and K2 are giving each other the look that says "mommy's cranky."
It's my turn, I say, please pass the tissues.

Parent volunteers

These are two small words that have a profound effect on me these days. My eyes fell on them today as I stood at the kitchen counter finishing the last bite of supper. Of the hundreds of flyers from school that get batched next to the toaster, I can't now remember which one it was, nor does it really matter since they all say the same thing. Another activity/group/comittee wanting a piece of me. I tear them in quarters and use them for scrap paper since it is a shame to waste the unprinted side. All those nice bright clean pages in eye catching colors. All those fancy fonts and clipart. All those trees.
Parent volunteers. I laughed out loud and my daughter asked why. I wasn't exactly sure, but I did feel a little unhinged at the moment. I think it is a side effect of the cheerleading frenzy.
(Volunteers, yeah... right...) I don't feel very voluntary right now. I feel something more like roped in.
Parent Volunteer for Sunday's competition wanted: Drive 2hrs to Boston, pay $12 admission fee, stand for 1hr, sit on bleachers for four hours, drive 2 hours home. Mission: to qualify by minimum score to drive 9 hours to Virginia Bach in May.
Yay! we won 2nd place out of 2, and we qualify. That means we get to go (read 18hours round trip+ $300 min food and lodge) to VA!!!
Ok.. where's the koolaide? Maybe then this would make sense.
But seriously, folks, I think I may pull the plug at least on that trip. I can't seem to swallow all day for the knot in my throat and past experience tells me that I need to speak up.
Parent Volunteers. LOL No thanks, not for me.

Blah, blah, blah.

Hard Rock man rides again!

Here is a great collage of my life. I call it my desk.

I went, I saw, but I didn't drink the koolaid...

For those of you who might have wondered where I have been lately, I have been on Planet Cheerleader. I am still recovering from the effects of reentry. This weekend I was in Providence at the Convention Center for two days with my family and about 2 million other people and about as many permutations of lycra, sequins and glitter that you could ever imagine, each more garish than the next. The music was so loud my sternum was vibrating. The second day K2 and I wore ear plugs. Hubby is much more tolerant of loud music, but acknowledges he is probably already slightly deaf .

There were probably more than 50 teams competeing in different levels. Being a fan of dance and gymnastics, I was hoping to watch the other teams. But I quickly found myself running for refuge from the onslaught of superbass. I could only stand it for 15 or twenty minutes at a time, and that was spent watching K1's team. She was nervous but loving it and still loves it, but I can't hide from her what it takes out of me.

We were like passengers of a cancelled flight, roaming the crowds, paying 9 dollars for a banana and a bottle of water at the concession, propped up in corners on the floor of the outer hall awash in a sea of cheer people. We invented games and I taught K2 a little photography compostion. On the second day she fell asleep on my lap in a 120 decibel fishbowl of sound with one ear plug in and my palm over her other ear. I felt so bad for her I let my leg fall asleep and did not move.
The things we do for our children.

A few of the other parents had the frowning lost look that reflected how I felt. We found each other in the crowd and every one had the same question. So what are we supposed to be doing? I suppose I had silent commrades in my inner outrage, but little was said. We were all too dazed.
There is this tally sheet going in my mind.

$450 for hotel, food for 4, including tickets @ $25 dollars a head x 3 :the price for the exquisite auditory torture at 124dB. K1 as a participant was tortured for free, although she enjoyed less of it being on the stage behind the bank of speakers.

Sandblasting, Loud Rock Concert 115dB
Pain begins 125dB
Pneumatic riveter at 4' 125dB
Jet engine at 100', Gun Blast 140dB

I figure I must be spending too much time in my cave to not be able to comprehend that people actually want to do this for FUN!

I am still processing (always processing) but the thing that struck me is the extremeness of it all. The music has to be louder, the costumes more glittery, the makeup heavier, --faster! more! bigger! Somehow it has grown past ridiculous to the point of true insanity. Does no one notice? Or is it just to unpopluar to speak up? Or is this what the majority really wants? The market usually provides what the people buy, do is this what people really want?

Whichever, I am not one of them. I did not, can not, and will not drink the koolaide.

Since I honor my commitments, I will honor this one and willingly agree to submit until the beginning of May. I will likely be a little deafer and perhaps punch drunk from the assault on my presumably more refined sensitivities, but even more committed to living a sane and rational life.

My husband once told me to ask why five times. And now that I do the world looks much different.

PS. The job is still great, full of exciting potential and I am honing my manifestation skills. My mind is lit up like a pinball machine, and it feels so good after being buried for the last few years.

somewhere between mundane and ridiculous

All it takes a bad haircut to set in motion the wheels of my sorry mind. Was it poor judgement or the universe taking a little back of the good fortune I've had lately? It began with the impulsive decision that I needed a trim, and was facing a busy week. I felt somehow virtuous as I sat to wait my turn in this drive-thru haircutter, thinking of the fifty or so dollars I wouldn't be wasting on such a silly thing as haircut. The girl who came to get me was sweet and used all the right buzz words but I crossed my fingers anyway as I always do when someone new wields scissors in back of my head. I explained what I wanted and she -- as we say in nurse speak --verbalized understanding. One side went fine. I had just begun to relax when -snip. It was done. The girl in her sweet voice said " There hows that?" I said "It is shorter on one side. Way shorter than I wanted." Sweet voice said, "oh, it is a little shorter." I said " A little?? Its about two inches shorter!" Sweet voice trembled and the color rose in her cheeks. At one point she even looked to the ceiling, in a way that made me wonder if she was praying to the goddess of hairdressers to rescue her. I just couldn't let my anger out after that. I thought about the thirteen bucks I'd pay for the haircut and how she told me she was working six days a week. I was polite, paid and left. And ranted to my own hair goddess about the injustice of having to grow these bangs out once again, but the heated leather seat beneath my ample behind reminded my that I really can't complain if a bad haircut is the worst I have to suffer.

can you say ...overtime?

Ok, so two weeks in and I am still loving the new job, although I am fighting my normal tendency to think I can do it all. I have lately begun to see the comedy in the part of myself that always says "I can do that!" I see so many possibilities, and how things can be done and I have often way underestimated what it really takes ( often in terms of time) to do them. So I've gotten myself into a few pickles biting off more than I can chew. It used to be a source of frustration and depression. Now it is more of a source of amusement-- like when the joke IS on you, but you finally can bring yourself to laugh at it too. Now I can hear myself say it " I can do it! I can do that!" and part of me goes "Oh boy, here I go again..." I guess its a good thing to see possibility and believe in my own ability to figure things out. But it is a really really nice thing not to be beating myself up all the time anymore for not actually doing it all. Suddenly many things seem easier, and I am actually doing more than when I worried about it. Funny isn't it?

I'm still alive and well..

I'm still alive and well,
I know sometimes it gets a little hard to tell--
but I'm still alive and well.

2008 fell on me like a roomful of hungry children.
I suppose I knew what I was getting into. I suppose I like the sudden importance my attention seems to have. Call it ego, try as I might I still have one and it is grinning delightfully.
The new job is sort of like falling into vacuum. There is potential in everything but also the weight of making it all manifest. A great scary thrill. What really kicks me is how suddenly I am heard. Of course there are many good reasons for management to stroke me. I am the next best bet. How fast the wind changes..
I will enjoy it for what it is.
I will also test the limits and see where my ideas may carry me.
I am living in interesting times...

As for the rest. There is this insatiable competitive cheer leading monster to feed. Which has brought me to question many things, mostly regarding parents. I see an UNBELIEVABLE effort and assets sunk into this project and am amazed at how little I hear from the parents. There is something distinctly lemming-like about the parent meetings. I go this year because I promised and will see it through. But honestly, I am not converted. On the whole, though, it seems out of balance. An incredible expenditure financially and impact on the family schedule.

I also have been reviewing my perennial guilt over not being a soccer mom. In starting work, I have realized how I need the stimulation and challenges of my work. I felt more alive this past two weeks getting up at 5:30 am than before. Of course that may be an adrenaline high and I may crash and burn next week but.. right now it is great! (woooo hooo!!!)
I confess I tried to like cooking, but really only do it to stop my stomach from growling or to make sure my kids have healthy fuel. I confess that there is nothing more deadening to my soul than picking up the same hairband off the floor for 3 days running(after that it is trash), and the laundry and the dishes and the dust rhinos.... Oh kill me already. I tried to be content with keeping a good house and clean well accessorized children but...
I just can't do it. I look at the MoMs at the bus stop and listen to their talk of classroom volunteering and PTO and I want to melt into the sidewalk. Of course I live in the kind of neighborhood where the moms go running, the dads go running, hell even the dogs are in great shape...I tried running. My knees hurt and I had to pee. Good thing I have two acres to hide on.
I spent two hours chaperoning a field trip to look at some rocks and thought I would lose my hearing when the bus started "singing"(screaming). Calgon would not be enough to take me away.Maybe tequila, but that brings other issues with it.
So I live with this mild mother guilt. I can't do it. I'm not sorry for having my children, but I sure don't want to expand it to dealing with any one else's. They showed me what it really meant to love, but I can feel myself slowly consumed if I do not pull away. Sometimes my daughters seem surprised that I want to go out to meet with an adult friend. They are puzzled-- What you don't want to be with me? WhY?
To be just for a while someone more than your mom or someones wife. Someone I used to be and still am
somewhere.