About a new haircut

Getting a new haircut is quite a leap of faith.

Faith that the new haircut will make you look better/younger/perkier/younger/refreshed/younger than you did with the old haircut.

Faith that your hair stylist can pull off the new haircut.

Faith that your loved ones will either, well, love it, or at least, like it, or, if they don't, break it to you gently you look newly bad.

Faith that your hair will grow out quickly if that last case transpires.

So yes: I'm going this week for just such a new haircut. And I do have a 'do in mind. 

Okay, the picture above is a year and a half old, but my hair is shorter in that pix than it is now, so it's a good approximation of what I look like with a short haircut.

Having grown my hair out into more of a bob, and that bob getting kind of out of control and hiding behind my ears a lot, and being TOO much for me to handle (since I'm not a hair stylist kind of girl), the time is ripe to whip myself into shape! 

And since you'll never guess who I want to transform myself too, I'll put a picture of her too. I've already told Brenda, who cuts my hair, that I am not expecting to lose 20 years, but hey, five would be good. 

Katie Holmes! The famous "pixie cut"!

The only thing I'm betting on ... your blogger will not receive 1/100th of the criticism this young woman did over a simple haircut. Because when I was searching for pictures, I came across some of the stupidest comments about her hair than I could have ever imagined.

Even if it looks bad on me, no one would ever care that much. No one should care that much.

Updated: A bad picture of a good haircut.

How to procrastinate by Cathy D.

1. Take one weekend.

2. Fill it up with stuff over which you have no control, like birthday shopping (although not for onesself), basketball games (not one's own), party-dress shopping (again, not for onesself), birthday party (again, not for onesself), and sundry errands (for the public good).

2a. Keep spending time on computer checking email, Facebook, Google Reader, and weather (to make sure no frigid spells are forecast). Make vow to stay off computer.

3. On completion of the above, realize one had actually created a to-do before the weekend

4. Go to kitchen to find purse and dig out to-do list.

5. Remember that "cleaning out purse" was one of the things on the to-do list.

6. The to-do list is written on a very small piece of notepad paper. Realize need for larger paper for additional tasks. 

7. Go to find new legal pads recently purchased on errand. Hunt. For awhile. Find pads in office.

8. Recast to-do list on nice, big legal pad. Admire the organization.

7a. Break computer vow by updating Facebook about how busy I am.

9. Decide to fold laundry first. Go upstairs.

10. Realize I'm a little weak and hungry to work. Go back to kitchen and find chips and dip from Superbowl party last week. Consume.

11. Realize this cannot be crossed off to-do list.

12. Get text from Jayme wanting a copy of picture taken last night at birthday party. Break computer vow by getting camera, taking out SD card, and trying to find picture. Get distrated because laptop SD card slot will not recognize 4gig SD card. Puzzle. Try other SD card in slot.Works fine. Google "SD card not recognized." Find several reasons, perhaps because new SD card is too big. Break down and connect camera to laptop with USB cord. Wait while software driver installs. Copy pictures to laptop and send to Jayme. 

12a. Since I'm on computer anyway, check email, Facebook and news. 

13. Go back and check to-do list since I've lost focus dorking around with SD card.

14. Go fold and put away the laundry. Cross off list!!!!!!

14a. As reward, just check email real quick. Just for a sec. Notice my copy of Twilight lying on end table. Decide to reread meadow scene because I realize Edward could do laundry in 1/10 the time as me. 

15. Give self mental shake. Recheck to-do list. Realize several items on this list are not going to happen today.

16. Realize if I list "check email" and "update Facebook" on my list, I will feel more productive!Also, "reading"!  Go to kitchen to revise list.

17. Get distracted by TV being changed to Sheryl Crow concert (not by onesself). Reminisce about seeing her in concert with John Mayer. Replay concert in head as Sheryl sings "Gonna soak up the sun." Feel guilty I have every song John Mayer ever recorded on my MP3 and not one Sheryl Crow. Force self not to download Sheryl Crow songs right now. Instead put on to-do list.

17a. Notice husband's laptop has a "Thomas the Tank Engine" screensaver. Engage in pointless conversation about WHY, since no children use it? No good reason.

18. Look at RSS feed and realize blog has not been updated lately. Feel guilty for my many six readers. Search brain for possible topics.

19. Come up empty. All I can think about is my to-do list.

20. Damn, I'm good at this procrastination, huh!

About my friend Mike

You know the term, "sudden death"?

Not like in a sports way--like in an NFL football game, when it ends in a tie, and the overtime is called "sudden death." Because that's not really death--it's just, "this game finally over." And there's always another game.

No, I mean "sudden death" like in "death came suddenly." 

This time, to my friend, Mike.

I'd worked with Mike for almost 10 years when he accepted a new job that took him and his family to Birmingham, Alabama, last April. Ten years is plenty of time to get to know someone, even in an office atmosphere. It's plenty of time to learn about interests and dislikes, about family, about childhood, about personality. Plenty of time to become friends.

Even in a busy office, there's sometimes time to chat for awhile in a cubicle, and talk about the funny things your little boys said, or what your wife is writing about, or the next ballgame you have tickets to.

Or, you might find yourself talking about the inadequacies of the Tampa Bay Rays stadium, and when in the world they might build a new one, or how it felt to be one of, oh, say, two fans for a baseball game. Or, you might find yourself getting razzed about being one of those two, er, few, anyway. 

The conversation might even veer into work territory, and you might dissect a meeting that didn't go quite right, or a project with a recalcitrant author, or why in the world can't we wear jeans every Friday?

Or, you might find yourself rejoicing over a Florida Gators win ... or commiserating over a loss. Or talking about where in the world that dead, dry, taxidermied gator on his desk came from. Or asking, just how may Florida Gators shirts can one have?

On a long weekday afternoon in a quiet cubicle farm, a little lively conversation is much relished.

Mike, of course, loved his family and the Lord above all; he would not deny he also enjoyed a good (hey, any) sporting event and a cold (hey, any) beer.

Mike died while working out at the gym; I imagine him running, and somewhere between strides leaving this earth and running into the arms of His Lord and Savior.

He leaves his parents, his wife; his little boys, whom he loved teaching about his Faith and about his sports; his step-children; his parents; and so many friends, and readers. 

Mike, the ultimate sports fan, exuberant football fan, appreciated the tension of a good overtime period--what the commentators call "sudden death," even as they debate about its fairness.

Mike, the good Catholic, would have been prepared--death was sudden, but not unanticipated; surprising, yet he would have been as ready, spiritually, as he could be.

Mike, husband and father, son and friend, Rays fan -- there's no sudden death in baseball, you know. If he'd had to chose, he'd go for a ballgame that dragged on forever, in the way only a baseball game can; a game that ended in a tie, then went into extra innings; a game that ended up in the record books only because it was so long. The kind of game that when it's over you look at each other and say, "I got old at that game."

He should have gotten old. I'd have loved to tease him about that.

Bye, Mike--Go in peace, you Gator.

About how you cheer yourself up in winter

First, buy one of these:

And, I watch stuff like this: 

And I wish I were somewhere like this:

About Friday

What I like about Friday

When I wake up and remember what day it is.

Casual Friday.

Somebody brings in donuts.

Knowing it's the last drive to work of the week.

Having a schedule that's maybe not quite as busy as Thursday was.

Having somebody say, "Where we goin' for lunch?"

Going to Chinese buffet and talking about movies and what we're doing on the weekend and politics and news then reading our fortunes and half-believing them.

Friday afternoon.

Having somebody call or text and want to know, "What we doin' tonight?" then making dinner plans.

Checking stuff off the to-do list one by one, tidying up the week.

Realizing it's finally time to leave, and flying home.

Dinner at Outback, making weekend plans.

Home to a movie and knowing it's okay NOT TO DO ANYTHING FOR THE REST OF THE EVENING.

Going to bed, knowing the weekend stretches before you, time unowned.

Friday.

About the tired side of midnight

I woke up tired.
I always wake up sleepy--I'm loath to give up the sweet surcease of sleep any morning. But being an enthusiastic, sound sleeper, I rarely wake up tired. It just takes me awhile and a cup of something to jolt me totally awake. I usually manage by lunch.
But last night--
Maybe it was that half-glass of merlot I had with dinner. Something in a red dances with something in my brain, then drains into my bones, rendering them useless. Not normally one to nap, that merlot set me up for losing a half-hour of the evening somewhere. Which probably got my sleep cycle all screwed up.

But a few chores and some reading, then some Facebooking and surfing got my head on straight and I didn't feel too off-kilter.
Then I decided to have some fun, where fun means working on some writing. Just messing around. Except it was way fun, and kind of, well, stimulating. I made myself quit by 11, being a working kind of girl.
At which time my body was ready for bed, but my brain was not.

How nimbly the mind moves at night! How insightful did I become, there in the dark, peeking now and then at the clock, where the hours that are so familiar to me in the afternoon--1:00, 2:00--became something interesting to explore, here on the tired, unfamiliar side of midnight.
And what a paradox--even I as knew I should sleep, that I would pay for this alertness at alarm time--that "gleaning my teeming brain" was almost ... enjoyable. That I was almost following myself around my head.

Perhaps something in the freedom of the hours--indeed, this time set apart not for work nor chores nor socializing, just sleep, merely sleep--was enticing.

Or perhaps the bit of merlot made things seem better than they were.

Eventually, my brain caught up with my body, and thoughts turned to dreams.

Leading me eventually to, the tired side of morning! 

About January 20, 2009

Shield your eyes,

For the view from the mountaintop

Is both blinding and terrifying.

We're too close to the sun,

And too far from familiar earth.

Up here it seems we could fly,

Just lean forward and and let the

Rare air hold us aloft,

Straining our eyes to look

Over the far, hazy, hopeful horizon.