a little squish

I just finished reading [Chemistry] by Weike Wang. It's a novel about a Chinese woman working toward her PhD in chemistry and dealing with the stereotypical strictness and high expectations of her Asian parents, among other things.

It's quirky, it's relatively short, I liked it. It marks 30 books read so far this year in my quest to read 26 books this year. I've overachieved even though I'm not a child of Tiger Parents.

But this isn't a reading challenge update. When I read the above quote, I immediately thought of a conversation I recently had at work with Party Girl and Daffodil. Party Girl was feeling self conscious about having a realtor come to her house.

Party Girl has a little house she bought and lived in after divorce from husband #2. She then married husband #3 (current), moved into his house, and turned the other house into a rental. Now, she's looking to sell the rental.

So the realtor was coming over to the house she currently lives in, not the one she's looking to sell. But due to the realtor being a realtor, Party Girl was self conscious of the scrutiny of her carpets, the colors of her walls, etc.

Daffodil jumped in with some soothing advice:

"When I'm dealing with something like that, I tell myself, 'I'm sure they've seen worse."

...which I feel is a corollary to the above quote from Chemistry. Much less anxiety inducing.

All this to say that I had my routine mammogram today.

Despite my having the nickname ["Cow"] for most of my formative years, it was not for my "udders". I've never been "busty", but rather quite an un-busty, small boned, 50% Filipina.

So while I'm certain my mammographer has seen more voluptuousness, I know I'm at the low end, and I was reminded of Daffodil's counsel. I was further put at ease when I noticed a couple of Asian women in the waiting area, if y'know what I'm sayin'. It's possible that I "outranked" them?

Now, I don't mean to make light of breast cancer. I'm personally at low risk, so I guess I find something else to worry about on mammogram day.

pastry partiality?

On Thursday, I walked into work and was greeted by this diabetes abbondanza in our breakroom.

We were a relatively small staff of five people total scheduled for the day, so who was supposed to eat all those donuts?

Okay, so Sarge had brought in the bag from Lamar's, which was really nice of him because he happens to have celiac disease, so is gluten free - which donuts are not. He bought them for the rest of us cohorts.

But Boss had brought in the box. He explained that it was a nursing test day, so he brought them for the nursing students. 

Quick background: the ADA requires colleges and universities to provide alternative testing for students with approved disabilities accommodations. Those are the students we serve at the testing center in addition to the non-student testers completing professional licensing and certification exams.

So yes, some of those students are in the nursing program, but we serve all accommodated students from every program at the college. So when Boss said he brought donuts for the nursing students, I thought, "hmmmmm...", but didn't comment.

I think Boss's heart is in the right place, but I felt it was wrong of him to offer donuts only to nursing students as we had other students coming in and out for tests. We do see the nursing students quite often - they take a LOT of tests throughout a semester - but I feel it's wrong to single them out like that because;

• what message does that send to the non-nursing students? Blatant bias? And for what reason? They're program is not worthy?
• what about the non-accommodated nursing students who take their tests in their classroom? Only accommodated nursing students deserve favoritism? And again, for what reason?

I'll note that most accommodations are for disabilities that are not obvious. The majority of accommodations are for dyslexia (extra time for tests) and/or ADHD (extra time, plus maybe a private room). Some are English as a second language (extra time).

So I let it go. But I think I might mention it to Boss... that his bias was showing... in case he's thinking of doing it again. And I don't even know the motivation for the bias. I know he meant well, but he has had times in the past where he didn't consider the "big picture"

After all these anti-bias trainings we're required to complete each year -  am I overreacting over accommodated-nursing-student-donuts??

Who even knew that'd be a thing?

tooth or consequences

I had a checkup at the dentist this week. Recall that I'd scheduled it for about a month ago, but got a call that the substitute hygienist broke her shoulder. No cleaning for me.

Regular hygienist is still away on vacation, sub hygienist is still recovering, so it was the good dentist himself who cleaned my teeth. Seemed a bit strange to have the big chief doing the scraping, but he's actually very personable and humble. He did a good jack-of-all-trades job. 

The office recently got a 3D scanner, so the thing spun around my head a bit. After my cleaning, the good doctor summoned me to see my scans. It was like being asked to report to the principal's office.

"Do you have trouble with your sinus?"

Ohmigosh yes.

"Yeah, cuz you don't have any bone there", pointing to the image of the obvious hole in my head. There is a tunnel between my mouth and my left maxillary sinus, from where a tooth used to be.

Honestly, it wasn't anything I didn't already know. Flashback to 2019 when I battled with  a bum tooth - #14 for those in the know.

It ended with a gruesome extraction after a failed attempt to save it.

I didn't even care to try to save it, and was ultimately glad to just be rid of the thing. And it continues to haunt me from the grave. When the oral surgeon extracted the tooth, he had to go up into my sinus to get all of it, thus forming the aforementioned "tunnel". I recall it feeling so weird, like my whole face was open to the air. 

In the few days that followed, mucus from my sinus would trickle into my mouth through the tooth hole. ICK! TMI!

The gum eventually healed over, but the bone never reformed. Denist says I "need" a bone graft. I say, "eh". Really, it hardly bothers me. There's got to be other people walking around with similar holes in their heads, right?

In other news, my weather tab says it's 102 degrees outside but feels like 106. Is there much difference at that point? Relative humidity is 5% - a dry heat it is!

It's my turn to work the Saturday rotation tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the A/C.

a Japanese cat relic?

 I could use some advice. 

We've got a short trip coming up. Dogs will stay at a local kennel, and the cat will have the house to himself. I feel okay leaving the cat for two or three days with a gravity feeder, big bowl of water, and a pristine litter box at the ready. This trip will be slightly more than 3 days, and I asked my friend/Boss - a card-carrying cat lover - if he wouldn't mind checking in on Napolion, our cat.

He accepted the mission, said he's got nothing else going on those days, and would be happy to do it. He lives just a couple of miles away, too, which is why I thought to ask him. Normally, I would ask a neighbor kid, but I honestly don't currently know any neighbor kids well enough - a ramification of empty nesting, I suppose.

With a neighbor kid, I would just give them some cash. But what to do with Boss friend? Feels cheesy to give him a gift card or such. 

Any suggestions?

For reference, he's about 60 years old - a single (never married)  history buff and Japanophile. Likes to read (history and Japan, duh), hike, and bicycle. Oh, and he's rather fond of cats.

I'm drawing a blank here.

like you used to

My first swig of booze was from my parents' liquor cabinet. I was maybe... what... ten years old or so? Ten years old and curious about the booze thing.

Gawd, it was awful. People drank that stuff voluntarily? I don't remember what it was. Something dark. Bourbon maybe. Curiosity satisfied, I put that sh*t back in the cabinet and never touched it again.

Eventually, I made it to high school where drinking was a means to an end. Taste? What did that have to do with anything? We're only doing this to get blasted/ hammered/ smashed/ trashed/ etc., right?

I recall drinking horrible rum and cokes mixed by stupid teenagers (me and my friends) while in a gas station parking lot . One guy noted, "This tastes like Flintstone's Chewables". By George, he was right. Then there was Jungle Juice. Remember Jungle Juice?

Now, I was not a super partier by any means as a teen, but did my fair share of giving into the peer pressure for something to do. Ours was a small town, booze was easy to come by and made for lasting memories I suppose.  Bonding by hair-holding.  

Having drunk enough paint-thinner tasting concoctions by the time I was of legal age, I'd already pretty much lost interest.  Also, going in to work the morning after a night of drinking is surely made more difficult with age.

Playing some drinking game
with fellow poor friends during
the college years

I went to a university known for partying, but those were rich kid affairs - Sororities and Fraternities. I went to a Frat party or two, but never drank much at them. I mainly observed and wondered who was going to clean everything up. So much sticky.

Between classes and my part-time job, I really didn't have money or time for such things anyway.

I did very little to add to the party statistics of my school. 

Next thing I knew, I was an adult. Had a husband, mortgage, kids... 
I enjoy a nice glass of wine or beer or mixed drink on occasion in social situations. But I can't recall  the last time I would've fallen into the "drunk" category, let alone "blasted/ hammered/ smashed/ trashed".

To my kids, apparently, I am super clean and a major lightweight - or maybe "light flyweight" to use a boxing analogy.  I guess they have it in their minds that I never drink other than "maybe a halfa beer on a weekend".

I found this out at Meego's recent college graduation. He and his fellow grads/roommates hosted the potluck bash at their rental house. I sipped some champagne and a bit of beer.

Eventually, the shot ski came out, and Meego and I bellied up to join one of his roommates and roommates mom. 

L to R: Meego, Abby, Roommate, Roommate's mom

Omigosh, the cautionary advice that ensued from Chaco and Wolfgang! Which booze to allow in my shot glass, expectations, something I can handle, etc. It's like they imagined me stumbling about and peeing myself after one go at the shot ski. 

Anyways, the ONE shot I did was Deep Eddy Lemonade Vodka. I rather enjoyed it, and imagine it wouldn't have taken much more for me to become "blasted/ hammered/ smashed/ trashed". In truth, I am a lightweight, but not so squeaky clean.

I'd say it's probably a good thing I started my alcohol journey with that moonshine tasting crap we concocted in high school. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
4. Write a blog post inspired by the word: clean

we know you love a party

"The test center is closed as we celebrate the Pagan Solstice.  We will reopen on January 3rd when our hours will be..."

"...However, if you are a virgin and would like to volunteer to sacrifice yourself to ensure the return of the sun for the rest of us, you may contact us at..."

Then again, we just went with the standard winter break message.

The boss, assistant boss, and I worked the final shift of the year yesterday.  We were only open for four hours for the last trickle of customers before the holidays.  We took care of some general cleaning and tidying - took down the holiday decorations, cleaned the breakroom, then penned and recorded the winter break outgoing message on the voicemail.  Done and done.

I'm as ready as I'm going to be for Christmas.  We don't go all out, especially since the kids are all up and out now.  But it's nice to have some time together.  I've got a few decorations up around the house, there are a few gifts and cards, there's ham.

I definitely don't want to take part in the deadweight loss of Christmas, minimalist clutterphobe that I am.  On a somewhat related note, my step-MIL has sent us an abundance of "treats" every year for Christmas for many years.  Store-bought cookies and candies, etc. that we never manage to consume on our own.

Most of it ends up going to coworkers and then expires into the trash.  I keep thinking to gently let her know not to send so much if any.  But then, Christmas passes and I forget by the next time I talk with her, and it seems wrong to mention it in my Christmas thank-you note.

Once again, I received and opened the "box of diabetes" a couple of weeks ago.  I brought over half of it to work, and during yesterday's cleaning, the leftovers went into the trash.  There's still a significant amount at our house that we will dole out to the kids, then chuck the remainder.

Any advice on how to handle this?  Mention it to her in my thank-you note?  Give myself a reminder to bring it up the next time they visit - possibly summertime? Just let her keep sending the crap and not say anything?  There are certainly worse things.

anxious

She came in and seemingly couldn't stop talking.  Told us about her husband driving her there, how she's cold all the time, why she brought so many different forms of identification, how many times she "went pee" beforehand...  And so many questions:  how do I work the locker again?  What did you say my seat number is?  Can I use the bathroom? Can I use the bathroom again?  And then, apologizing for being cold, for asking to use the bathroom, for forgetting her locker combination.

I wanted to tell her Just. Stop.  Calm. Down. Breathe. Slowly.  But I couldn't get a word in. Anxiety.

She took two separate but related certification tests.  She passed both of them, but thought she'd failed both. Then she couldn't stop talking about how amazed she was that she'd passed. She was positively giddy and shaking and teary eyed.  Honestly, I thought she was going to pass out.  Honestly.

She left and was going to text her husband to come get her.  We let her go on her way, in her racing heart, chatty state.

Did we do the right thing?

That was yesterday.

Today, a young woman came in, hardly said anything or made eye contact other than when necessary.  Similarly, she asked twice for bathroom breaks during her test.

While on her second bathroom break, my coworker returned saying that the young tester was having an "anxiety situation" in the bathroom and someone from disability services was talking with her.  She's not a student at the college, had similarly come in for a certification test.  But my coworker noticed her and rightfully found a counselor.

We patiently waited a few minutes for the woman to return and calmly redirected her to her workstation if she wished to continue.  She did manage to complete her exam, but her scores were not immediately available.

Upon finishing, she quietly signed out, gathered her things, and left - as silently as she'd arrived.  Shortly afterward, my shift ended, and I popped into the bathroom before heading home.  Quiet woman was in there sitting on the floor of a stall, her knees pulled up toward her face. I noticed someone was in the stall, but hadn't realized it was Quiet Woman sitting on the floor until noticing that what I thought was a backpack on the floor of the stall next to me was an actual back of a person.

"Are you okay?", I asked, not knowing what I'd do with her answer.

"Yeah", she replied, rather unconvincingly. "I'm just not feeling that well today".

"Would you like me to get someone from Student Services?", thinking that whomever she'd spoken with earlier had been of help.

"No", she quietly responded, adding a, "thank you", and a hint of a smile in her voice.

In my mind, I waivered.  Should I get someone anyway? Or did she just need a bit of quiet time?  Was this in relation to her test?  Or something else?  

I reminded her that the counselors were just a few steps away, or she could always return to the testing center for help or concerns.  

"Okay, thank you".

Then I left her alone. 

She was young - early 20's.  I still picture her sitting there on the floor.  She wore jeans and a cute pair of pink high top Vans.

Did I do the right thing?  I had the impression that she needed some alone time.

But I could be wrong.

Anxiety can look so different from different people.  Maybe that's why I'm more of a math person.  

the ass in assistant?

I stepped into my boss's office, she looked up with a look that said, 

"WhoTF are you and why are you in my office?"

I mentioned a while back that my boss at the old folks' home put in her resignation after accepting a bigger position at another senior living place.  This is her final week with us.  There's been some speculation about who would replace her, and the most logical choice seemed to be the current assistant boss.

The present hierarchy in our department is as such:  Boss --> Assistant Boss --> Me --> the rest of the cubs in the den.  To make speculation gossip all the more confusing, Boss and Assistant Boss both have the same name, let's say they're "Audrey".

So conversations have gone something like, "Is Audrey gonna replace Audrey?  How does Audrey feel about it?  If Audrey replaces Audrey, who will replace Audrey?"

Follow?

There was a time when I thought I would want to be Assistant Boss if the opportunity arose, but lately, that feeling has waned.  Not sure why, maybe it's just spring fever.  Anyway, amid the speculation, I knew I would not apply for Assistant Boss should Audrey2 replace Audrey1.

Then...

yesterday, Boss started texting me, inquiring if I was interested in being Assistant Boss.  I said I was open to chatting about it.  We arranged to do that this morning.

I'm not working today, so I went in at our agreed meeting time when I was greeted with the aforementioned "WhoTF...?" look.  Apparently, I look quite different in my everyday than I do when I'm at work?  

After a moment, she finally recognized me and we had a bit of a laugh, her saying I look so different.  It leaves me wondering if the "different" is good or bad, but anyway...

It turns out the Assistant Boss has, in fact, secured the Boss position.  They want me to be the new Assistant Boss, so I now have a decision to make.  Honestly, I've been seriously thinking about cutting my hours at the facility and picking up more tutoring jobs, as the facility work has started to feel quite mundane. But if I take the Assistant job, I will stop the tuting altogether.

I told them I'd think about it and get back to them, so that's what I'm doing.  I did a little decision matrix just now and Assistant Boss won out over reduced hours + more tuting (57 points vs. 47 points).  It won out mainly because the Assistant Boss work would have more substance than what I'm doing now, has more potential for growth and learning, and pays better unless I take on a LOT of tutees.  

Tuting won out only for free time - which dwindles if I take on enough tutees to match the pay of the Assistant Boss - and it has a teeny tiny better commute, since I tutor online.  Even a 1.5-mile commute can be a factor when there's two feet of snow.

So I think I'm gonna say yes?  I mean, at least my name isn't Audrey.

And more importantly, do I look so different at work vs. not at work?  I took a car selfie (something I never do because I just don't "get" car selfies) after my chat with the Audreys to juxtipose with my work look (post COVID vaccine selfie)

Okay, so I'm wearing different glasses, and I don't have on the hair thing and work polo.  But I swear they're both me.  In these days of mask wearing, don't we all pretty much look alike?  

Must be the glasses.

shots and studs

Interesting start to the new year, eh?  I'll just leave that at that, and stick to my own trivial little world since this is my trivial little blog.  But first, a meme:

On that note, it's been interesting to witness the roll out of the first round of COVID-19 vaccine at my workplace.  Several residents and staff have gotten their first hit.  Everyone I've asked has said that their arm is a little sore, but other than that, they feel just fine.  We are told that the second shot in about three weeks could be more noticeable with side effects of feeling blah for a day or so.  

I passed on this first round.  Personally, I'm not too worried about getting COVID myself, but I would hate to pass it on to someone - particularly any residents at the care facility.  I think the place has done a good job of screening employees and keeping residents safe, but I know they want all of us to get the vaccine.  I might give into the peer pressure and sign up for next month.  

In other news, I've been researching studded snow tires for my bicycle.  I've never wanted them, just like I've never wanted studded snow tires for my car.  But we've had some slippery days recently with more to come.  I've gotten lots of recommendations from people who use them, and I ordered a pair for myself.

Thing is, in Colorado, we get our snowy slippery days, then it melts and the roads are beauty until the next storm.  In addition to recommending the snow tires, many have suggested that I either (1) buy spare rims for easy tire changes - not exactly "cheap" for my bicycle, Ariel, or (2) buy a whole 'nother bike and mount the snow tires on it for riding on snow days.   A whole 'nother bike?  How convenient...

I'm taking Ariel for her annual Spa Day/ Tuneup at the bike shop today.  I'm going to try not to make any silly purchases.  I promise.

aged like fine whine

It's been a busy couple of weeks, mainly because of the new job plus a couple of orientations I needed to attend on my days "off".  But now I'm all orientated and established with a true day off. So, aahhhh.

I don't want to blog too much about the nursing home, it's just been at the forefront lately.  As I've gotten to know both residents and coworkers, a few fun things are emerging

• Three of us worker bees in the department are full on adults - I mean we have kids of our own, have completed college (and actually we all have grad degrees), have paid or are paying mortgages, and have various other adulthood characteristics, like the fact that we read the news... 
• The majority of coworkers are in their late teens and twenties - college kids and even some high schoolers. I'm starting to see some truth in the idea that I was hired to be among the other two "den mothers", which is fine by me.
• There are typically around 80 residents at any time, of which the majority are women.  Our oldest is one of the many Betty's.  She's 98, and we're thinking she's going to outlive everyone currently in house.
• Most of the residents are actually quite cognitive, but deal with various physical limitations.  Only a few are obviously in the throes of dementia or memory loss.

A couple of young girl coworkers told me how they've received unsolicited advice regarding sex and birth control.  

"Back when I was young, we'd just pull out.  But you girls have lots more options!"

OMG, Vivian??

"I got a diaphragm, hoo boy, thank goodness for those!"

Adelaide!!

By the way, this prompted me to research out of curiosity:

"... the diaphragm had become the most frequently prescribed form of birth control in America by the 1930s"

ANYWAY, to be sure, no one has given me advice on birth control or sex.  I usually get tips on how to stave off various effects of aging, as learned in hindsight I suppose. They see me as a near peer!

One of the orientations I attended included a short presentation on dementia and resident rights.  The speaker told of a study where each resident was asked if they would like to remain where they were - in a long term care facility - or go back to being 16 again and have a do-over.

An overwhelming majority wanted to stay where they were.

I too would not want to go back to being 16.  Would you?  Have another age/timeframe to which you would like to return?  

In other news, Wolfgang has reminded me that Inktober is once again upon us.  

I plan to participate again, but I'm not going to stress out about getting all 31 prompts completed.  I haven't done much art play at all since... last Inktober?  I think the process of moving to another city, house selling and buying, and then dealing with the pandemic short circuited me a bit, and I veered away from my art hobby.  Maybe Inktober 2020 will get me back on that track.

In other other news, I expect my partial tooth any day to replace that mean bum tooth I got rid of last year.  

I refuse to call it a denture.

plasticized

SOURCE

Happy Friday.  Today is Meego's last day of school.  He has final exams in math and English.  Gone are the elementary school days of end-of-year parties.

I was thinking about that this morning because I remembered how the end of the year used to sort of sneak up on me.  *BAM!* it would be here, and I'd be scrambling to get gifts for teachers and get snacks for the parties.  No such things in high school *sigh of relief*








A couple of days ago, Meego asked if he could buy a game online.  He typically purchases computer games from Steam.  I let him use our credit card, then he pays me.  So he asked to buy one and I said okay.

A few minutes later, he says to me from the other room, "I put the information in, now it's asking me for a bunch of other information, so maybe you should come check."

I was lazy busy, so I just asked him, "What other 'bunch of other' information is it asking you for?"

"It's asking for the last 4 digits of your social security number..."

HOLD THE PHONE!

He'd gone to a different site, on the advice of a friend, to try to get a better price.  Needless to say, we stopped that transaction.  Shortly afterwards, Magnum and I both got calls from the fraud alert department at our credit card company.

I spoke with someone I could barely understand, but I'm pretty sure, in the end, it all got straightened out.  Apparently, that particular site is a known danger, so I told Meego he was right to be suspicious and stop the purchase. He said his friend purchased from them, however...

It was a good lesson for him, but our credit card was sacrificed in the process.  I'm awaiting the new ones which should arrive in "fi to sebben beez kneez dis", which I think translates to about a week.  But I could be wrong.

Despite the communication troubles, I do appreciate these fraud alert departments.  We've dealt with them a few times in the past - sometimes to verify legitimate purchases, and a few times to catch some bad guys.   And it so happens that this is the only credit card we use, so in the meantime, I'm credit-card-less.

So as I patiently await the arrival of the new cards - which may or may not be chip-and-pin.  My translation powers had been exhausted by that point - I'm trying to not buy anything while catching up on some projects around the house.

Yesterday, I was in the back yard, where we do nothing to control the dandelions other than mow them down when they get too tall.  Napolion was out there enjoying our bumper crop of dandelions while scoping out the bumper crop of baby bunnies.  I wish bunnies ate dandelions.

Kitty in the... erm... "garden"

.

getting out

It's been a busy and productive week and already, here it is, Dumb Friday.  It's all been good and fun stuff, but it has eaten into my blogging time.

Just now, I was preparing some lessons and read:  "When a substance dissolves in H2O..." and at that point the voice inside my head informed me that it was time to switch gears and spend some time in the right brain, lest I become too one-dimensional

When Nerds Play
not my artwork, don't know whose...

Right-O!

Really, I do have a strong urge to draw something, or throw some paint around.  The last time I suppressed that urge for too long, I ended up splattering paint all over a few walls and getting a tattoo! 

Early last week, a neighbor whom I find irritating came over and asked me if I would call her when I go out to take China for her beauty walks.  She wanted to come with us.  "Ugh!" (or something like that), I thought to myself.  But on the outside, I said, "Uhm... yeah, okay"  Inside:  "Shucks!" (or something like that).

If I'd seen it coming, I would have had a ready declining response, but she took me by surprise.  I did manage to tell her that I don't take China out at a necessarily consistent time of day.  "Just whenever I fit it in with other stuff".  That was fine with her.  "Fudge!"

Let me just say that she's not a bad person.  It's just that her personality grates on me.  We're neighbors, she's just a couple of years older than I am, our kids are around the same ages, but our similarities stop with the externals.  Inside, we're nearly polar opposites of each other - something she strangely doesn't seem to notice.  I find it a struggle to chat with her out of neighborliness, let alone go on walks with her.  She can be a bit clingy.

Now I know what you might be thinking.  "Ah, just let her walk with you already!", but I did that before.  Years ago, when we first moved here, I would take Meego out regularly in the jogging stroller for our daily airing outs.  She asked then, like now, if she could come with us.  I said, "Uhm... yeah, okay", then ended up  regretting it.  The walks somehow thankfully stopped.  I don't remember how, but I was very grateful for it.  

Yeah, so anyway, I've just not called her, although I've taken China on usual daily walks each day since her request.  I kind of feel like the sleazy date who says he'll call, but then never does.  

Advice?

.

doctor Don

I was hanging out with The Donald this morning.  Not that Donald.  This Donald has way better hair.

My mother in law asked me to do a pastel portrait of Magnum's stepdad.  I suppose I could refer to him as my step-father-in-law, but I'd rather just say "Don".  One syllable vs. five syllables wins.

I was flattered she asked and knew it would be fun since I've known Don nearly as long as I've known Magnum.  She'd asked me about the portrait prior to their visit last weekend and said she would bring a couple of photos.

The photos she brought, though, were from a few years ago when Don was a bit heavier.  Plus, he wasn't rocking the awesome chin-strap beard he currently rocks.  She snapped a bunch of photos while they were here, then honed in on one to use as a reference.

So I was playing with Don and it's been fun, BUT I'm having some difficulty.  My mother in law wants to pay me for the portrait.

I have NO idea what to charge.  I want to just do it for free.  I may not always agree with her.  We may wonder sometimes if Magnum was switched at birth.  (Really, Mag and I have had conversations.  Like, "we should look for your real family, I bet we'd like them!").   But for the most part, we get along well and maintain the relationships on our shared interests and just avoid the unshareds.  

There's also the fact that they've always been very generous with us.  If I were to charge for such a request, it would be a negligible amount in comparison with the support they've given us over the years.  

She brought up paying me a few times, and I just brushed it off, not knowing how to answer.  Does giving it to her at no charge "cheapen" it for her?  I've had this problem before,  *COUGH* GUANO* COUGH* and I'm not sure if I'm happy with how that went either.

I guess I need outside advice.  Rambling on the blog hasn't helped.
.

conundrum?

From the mailbag...

Dear Abby,

I saw this bike near my school and i thought to myself....
i've been seeing this bike for months on my way to school and i thought.... with the idiots that coast off the bridge and the fact i got a bolt cutter at home i should take this abandoned frame and make it into an vehicle of WIN!!! \m/

or should i.... back off and run away from this Hipster trap of DOOM!!!!


This from a fellow deviant at deviantArt.  For those unfamiliar with dA, it's another social network site of sorts, for artists.  Total membership is probably several million.  It's a great place to share artwork and get feedback and look at other's work - traditional art, digital art, literature, photography,...   And, since "art" is a term with such vague boundaries, if any, there's also plenty of crap and smut, but that's pretty easily avoided.

Luckily, within that  FLOOD of art are many many groups, so deviants like myself can join groups specific to their interests and forego the rest.  A couple of my groups are "bicycle love" themed.

So... what to advise here?  The advice seeker is a "...young Architecture Student in NYC who happens to draw and play music..."  Although, really, who is anybody in cyberspace? 

If he's to be believed, he really wants to build his own bicycle, and just wants this forsaken one for the frame.

Most other responders (I'm not the only one he consulted) including me tell him to err on the side of caution.  We don't think it's a ghost bike, but there could be some other reason it's still there.  If nothing else, ask the police and/or sanitation first before resorting to the Dark Arts.

I'm sure NYPD and NY sanitation don't have much else to think about.


What would you do? If you don't give a hoot about bicycles, imagine it was some other seemingly abandoned thing that you do give a hoot about.  What WOULD you get the bolt cutters out for?
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reality check

It was an unseasonably warm afternoon last Wednesday.  Kids were just getting out of school.  People were out and about, running errands, going to or from work, etc.  I was doing the crossing guard thing.

 I had two girls ready to cross the street and found a moment when the traffic wasn't too jammed up to do just that.  The light changed, the traffic stopped, the walk sign began to flash and buzz. 

The SUV came barrelling through.

I saw her coming, and so did the girls.  I knew she wasn't going to stop.  Despite the flashing school zone lights.  Despite the flourescent signs.  Despite the stopped cars.  Despite the other drivers honking at her.  Despite me and the kids.  She drove on through at about 45 miles per hour.

I was standing near the edge of the road, and she was in the lane closest to me.  If I wanted to, I could have reached out my stop sign and scratched that SUV up good, but I didn't.  Not in real life anyway. 

I watched her face as she drove by.  She actually looked a little startled, probably from the other cars honking at her.  Maybe it was just dawning on her that something was different. 

And it stayed with me.  For hours afterward.

There are speeders every day.  There are the occassional red light runners.  Oddly, this was the first time they were ever in combination.  It's like some drivers can only concentrate on one rule at a time.

"Okay, I can reduce my speed, but I can't pay attention to the traffic light at the same time" or vice versa.

So yeah, the barrelling SUV bothered me - not in a scared-the-bejezuss-outta-me way, but in a how-can-she-have-been-so-effing-clueless way.  It bothered me so much, I vented a bit on my facebook when I got home.  I hardly ever put anything on my facebook wall, can't remember the last thing, and don't care enough now to go check. 

Later that evening, I was still all *razzum frazzum razzum frazzum*.  I vented to Magnum as we went for our old folks walk.  I was replaying it in my head too much.  Then I would replay the other version - the one where I scratch her up. 

I wasn't proud of this.

I'm not posting this to b*tch about that driver.  Eventually, I did let it go.  But I would have liked the letting go to have happened sooner.  And honestly, as I rehash it out here, I'm starting to feel the *razzum frazzums* trying to bubble up again. 

So, I'm seeking advice again.  How do you let things go and keep them from messing with you after they're done and gone?  Is there an event or situation you still can't let go of?
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