Google It!

When I started college, very few students had a “fancy” (one with a screen showing more than three lines) word processor let alone a personal computer. There were only two computer labs on campus – a Mac lab and a PC lab. By the time I graduated, several more had been added, with at least one per dorm (still only one Mac lab, though). Fast forward to present day, I not only have a work laptop I bring home every night, but a family laptop in the living room, desktop in a designated computer room, a machine in my brother’s room and various PC parts scattered throughout the spare room. This much of a change in only 13 years’ time.

But it is not just a change of possessions, it is a revolution of how I live my life – and not necessarily always a good one. In my early twenties, I just sang the wrong words to Even Flow without caring. Now, I immediately look-up the lyrics on my phone while stopped at a red light (I still cannot remember the correct words). Over a one day period, I decided to give up the Internet for personal use. In that time, I realized how truly addicted I was to looking up random information and the unnecessary importance to be in the know.

To start, I didn’t even make it 30 minutes into my day. I worried about not commenting back on a comment to a post I made about jewelry. I actually logged on at 5:30 a.m. to post a reply. Really, is it discourteous not to return a Facebook comment? I of course had to go without something else for a short period to make amends and serve my penance. Damn those e-mail alerts on FB activity! I almost panicked thinking that a future FB friend would find me bad-mannered if I did not immediately accept his friend request. Yet, I did refrain, but not after contemplating alternatives to accepting the request without actually logging in myself.

Over the course of this day, I lost track of how many times my first thought was “to look it up online.” More importantly, the bits of knowledge I could not live without were in themselves not important. Lyrics to a Disturbed song, American Idol contestant names, nutritional value of my Starbucks’ smoothie (long after I had ingested it). I was going to have to watch the news, on T.V., to see what was going on in the world rather than keying in a URL. And by news, I mean the Daily 10 on E!. Also, I had to listen to the same two CDs all day rather than streaming music. Oh the agony!

So what have I come away with after this? Well for one, I cannot get Kris Allen’s version of Heartless out of my head. Mainly, I questioned how something so not critical to my well being embodies such vital importance. There is plenty of important reasons for using the World Wide Web. I can pay my bills online, learn how to store my dahlia for the winter, keep in touch for family and friends, view the Heath Care Bill and more. But what I really learned, is that I use the Internet for frivolous time wasting. In essence, having everything in the world at my fingertips and a few clicks away has agitated and fed my ADHD.

Now if you excuse me, I need to look up Allen’s live performance of Kanye West’s hit on Youtube.

Internet Sensation

As everyone knows, I love my cats. I think they are some of the most beautiful things in this world – especially my Sasha. I am not alone. Anyone of you reading this that has been to my house – you always go right to him. Heck, even my father-in-law loves him. Despite his allergic reaction to cats, he always stops to pet him. His gorgeous eyes, soft fur and the way he craves to be petted screams attention whore. So now, the whole world will get to see him.

As a long time fan of the internet show Cute with Chris (CWC), I finally sent in a picture of Sasha. And damn, they posted it the very next day. For those wondering, I did try to get Marco on there, but they just did not go for it. I am hoping the whole world will come to adore my kitty. So far, the comments posted are not showing much love. I think it is because of his name and the photo title. Well in the United States, I have never heard of a man named Sasha – except the wife-beating actor from Step-By-Step. It is a common male name in Europe. But with international fame must come some scrutiny from a jealous public. Fortunately Sasha is strong enough to take it and not let it get to him.

So please visit CWC and if you like, comment about my kitty. However please be advised that if it is not kind in nature, I will have to torture you. I want him to be as famous as the skate boarding dog or the 44-pound kitty lost in New Jersey. And you think my cats are fat!

BTW, the kitty in my profile pic is Marco – so he has been on the Net for a while.

Fond Memories

What Were We Thinking??

Following a blog link a friend sent (so I could watch SNL mock Sen. Bobby Byrd, D-W.Va.), I came across a picture of a shark's tooth necklace. A seemingly unimportant item, it immediately flooded my mind with a high school memory.

This particular flashback involves my closest friend, Patti. And like any story I tell involving her, it is probably only really funny to us. What makes the memory even better for me is that if i even mention seeing a picture of shark's tooth, she will bring up this particular story, too.

One day after parking the car, we were walking down the hill to school. Typically, we cut through a covered walkway between the cathedral and the Catholic elementary school adjacent to the high school. As we walked along, Patti looks down and says, "Look a shark's tooth?!?" She was excited, yet puzzled. Because of the early morning hour and minimal light coming in through the short passage, I could not see it clearly. So, we were both curious as to why a shark's tooth would be lying here miles upon miles away from any saltwater. But, it quickly dawned on us, it probably fell off of a necklace. Obviously, everyone wears a shark's tooth necklace. The it souvenir number one when you go to the beach (forget sand dollars and iron-on decal fringed t-shirts).

So with out further delay, Patti attempted to pick it up. Well, it turns out it was a slug. She screamed, I laughed, and we both ran into school. I know no one else is bowled over laughing at this story right now, but it does bring HUGE smiles to our faces.

By the way, we both have shark tooth necklaces (well at least had, not sure where mine ended up).

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

I am apparently a terrible wife. My husband has jokingly been telling friends and family that I tired to kill him. Well, maybe my inaction could have killed him, but it was not intentional.

Last Friday, my husband was apparently going into anaphylactic shock. Fortunately due to unrelated sinus issues, he had taken Benadryl prior to the onset of the severe allergic reaction causing it to slow the process. I am a bad wife because when Donnie first mentioned that he may be in anaphylactic shock, I shrugged him off. “You would know if you were going into anaphylactic shock,” I sniped considering that he had once been rushed to the ER because of it. He him-hawed for at least 30 minutes about whether or not he should go to the emergency room or if he in fact was having a severe allergic reaction. “If we go to the hospital and you just have a sinus pressure, I am never letting you live this down,” I sniped again.

Well, he was suffering from a severe allergic reaction and was given more Benadryl and steroids at the ER in order to combat it. According to the physician’s assistant on call (no one sees a real doctor anymore), the at-home Benadryl really helped calm the situation. Rather than closing off his windpipe all together, his throat was only a little swollen and his face slightly puffy. Two hours later, he was able to leave breathing clearly.

I know anyone not knowing my husband well would think I am an all out bitch for not taking his medical concerns seriously. However those who do know my husband well know he overreacts to everything. I have been scared many times thinking he was having a heart attack only for him to state (long after he writhed in pain for a while) that he had a leg cramp. Not only does he over dramatize the pain (which he seems to have a low threshold for anyway), he also does not respond to multiple requests of “What’s wrong?”. No, he just hopes around groaning in pain and not responding or being vague about what is happening. I don’t want to call 911 because he stepped on a tack.

My favorite is when he “gets” whatever you just had. I once complained about horrible cramps (which were caused by menstruation) for him to come to me a day later with the same symptoms and indicating he caught what I had. And, I am not the only one to witness this behavior. It is an on running joke with his best friend. Good thing Donnie is a good sport about this.

So when he started with his “I can’t breathe, I think I am going into anaphylactic shock” Friday night, it was hard for me to accept that it was not trumped up. I know Donnie is the sickly kid and is very susceptible to colds and such (which I do feel bad for him), but I am sometimes cynical about his condition (plus I am just cynical in general) due to the drama. Because he cries wolf, I know I will not take him seriously when it matters (i.e. Friday night). I had joked with a friend recently that his epitaph will note how he died because no one took his illness seriously.

I would like to think that after Friday’s shocker, I would listen more closely the next time he has an ailment. But I probably won’t. I most likely will dismiss him choking for burning his tongue. Like I said I am a terrible wife.

Yankee Doodle, Not Dandy for Normal Folks

I want to be rich and famous. Hell, just give me the famous! It is not fair to the rest of the world needs reservations two years in advance to get into trendy restaurants and pay for their own meals. It is also not fair that regular folks not only have to pay full price, worse yet scalper rates, for tickets to hot sporting events if they are even lucky enough to get them.

Though a HUGE sports fan, the difference in lifestyles between athletes and the rest of us is just an injustice. However, it only gets worse when it comes to stage and screen (or no go reason other than I’m rich) celebrities. As a slap on the face to every die hard New York Yankees fan, Billy Crystal will get the opportunity to play in an exhibition game the day before his 60th birthday. Now, Crystal is an avid baseball fan and has grown up loving the Yanks. But be honest, if he was just a regular schmuck, this would not be happening.

The ultimate fan fantasy is coming true all because of Crystal’s celebrity status. Regular folks would have to pay thousands of dollars to wear the pinstripes at a fantasy camp and have the benefit of some farm leaguers showing them how to bunt and throw rather than an active player. And though preseason is a chance for the young kids to shine, Crystal will get to train with the entire team. And no doubt, he will get a high-five from Jeter if Crystal happens to make contact with the ball. Or maybe a good luck slap-on-the-back from A-Rod before exiting the dugout when Crystal is next on deck. He might even get to share a cycle with Giambi. (OK, that was a bit much).

Crystal isn’t the first person to get special treatment in the sporting world because of who he is. Isn’t Spike a permanent fixture in the Knicks’ locker room? I am not denouncing celebrities as sports fans, but because of their social status they get treatment most of couldn’t even pay for if we won the lottery.

So, what do we regular folks get? - jacked up ticket prices and autographs at $40 a pop. In a way having Crystal sign for one game does make sense. How else do you get fans in the seats for an exhibition game, especially one against the pathetic Pittsburgh Pirates? Of course Bud Selig approves. Baseball is in a slump. Even the superstar status of A-Rod and Jeter is not enough to make Americans fall in love again with this nation’s pastime. Sure you have your diehards, but maybe gimmicks are what the sport needs. What better way to shrug off a year of steroid scandal then with a comedian in the outfield?

When Shopping Goes Bad

On Sunday, my hubby and I started the day in a good mood. We were getting things done around the house, the sun was shining, and I even prepared a store list, complete with meals for the entire week. We had such a good feeling because our plans for the day were moving along. For once, we were on the ball. All we needed to do was hit the store.

And, that is where it all fell apart. I was optimistic as we pulled into the parking lot. Store list in hand, I was prepared to get what we needed so we could get home. Tonight we would dine on a new chicken and veggie dish (cooking at our home has been rare in the past several weeks), catch up on our DVR recordings and have an enjoyable Sunday evening – one with out fretting over a wasted weekend and what we did not accomplish.

Heck, I was still content as I walked through the automatic doors and grabbed a buggy. It was when I entered the next stage of the store, leaving the alcove of the shopping cart return, that I was struck by the Wal-Mart Syndrome (WMS).

WMS is a disease that strikes when you enter the discount retailer during peak and are overcome with anxiety. My thoughtfully categorized shopping list was now written in a foreign language. My somewhat intelligent mind could not comprehend what canned goods were, let alone make a decision on dark or light red kidney beans. And to top it off, there was a sudden tension between my spouse and me that made me want to bite his head off for asking where he could find bouillon cubes.

Feeling this darkness invading my heart, I quickly divided up the lists. I could see in my husband’s eye and tell by his short tone that he too was infected. We might be able to survive if we could quickly escape this store from hell.

One-by-one, we checked items off of the list and booked it to the registers -- typically a nightmare situation, but we got lucky. There was a lane open, no wait. Boom, boom, boom we loaded the conveyer belt, paid for our groceries and snatched up our bags. Once inside the sanctuary of our truck, we started to calm a little.

I wish I could blame the hordes of aggressive shoppers on a beautiful spring day after a long hard winter, but other than the last two weeks, it has been mild. And, two weeks of some snow does not constitute cabin fever. For the most part, only a few more folks than usual were enticed by the warmer weather to vacate their homes. No, it is the iniquity that is Wal-Mart that brings out this disease. I am not sure if it is the store itself or the type of shoppers it attracts (and not necessarily the amount).

Despite all of that mental turmoil, I will continue to patron that place, hoping each time I am not eaten alive. To be honest, I would swim through the River Styx if I could save a buck.

Life Lessons

Inspiring People

So many people come and go in life that we rarely take time to consider the impact one person can leave on you. Everyone can probably name a teacher that lit their academic path -- maybe even a family member that provided motivation. But, I think it is all of the small encounters that make us who we are. It is the tiny things we take away from brief meetings that truly inspire us.

Whenever I think about people that have played significant roles in my lie, I find it hard to pinpoint what those folks have told me about life that I try to live by. A lot has to do with my poor memory (despite no drug use or repeated blows to the head, well maybe a few blows to the head). Most of it; however, can be traced back to emulating people’s actions more than thinking about those actions.

My grandfather, for instance, was a wonderful man -- kind and generous, soft spoken yet intimidating when needed and well respected. Did he ever give me words of wisdom, not that I can recall. I do, though, look at how he lived his life, wanting to follow similar characteristics. And of course, I had an encouraging seventh-grade English teacher who fostered my writing. Though I do not do it as a profession (at least not the way I had intended), it will always be one of my greatest passions.

What started me on this thought process of inspiring people was a simple gesture of gratitude by a former co-worker. As a wonderful surprise today, I received a gift at work. The random items, which gave me both a big laugh and feeling of warmth, reminded me of what a talented and dynamic woman our firm was loosing. She was smart and knew what was important in life. She kept a level and humorous head despite hairy and mind-boggling situations. She regularly demonstrated her appreciation of others through her words and gestures. Above all else, she balanced doing a great job at work with being a great mother and wife at home. These traits did not go unnoticed either. Several partners, including the department chair, begged for her to reconsider.

Granted, I only saw the sides of her that can be relayed via e-mail, phone and rare in-person meetings (she worked on the other side of the country). There may have been times where she ran around screaming her head off (which I do not doubt, because my current place of employment will illicit that behavior). But what I did see, I admired.

I hope that by taking the time to reflect on her commendable character, it will help me remember her. However, I know it will only prolong it a little at best. But what will stick with me is how my behavior and attitude changes because of knowing her. Maybe I will come home on time or a little early to see my family rather than get snippy with them when they are upset that I am still at work. If anything, I will smile whenever I use one of her great farewell gifts and hope that one day I leave as positive an impression on someone as she did.