"Here it Comes"

Have you noticed? The trees are finally bare. I thought this was one of the most beautiful autumns ..."fallgasm"...and it seemed to last for the longest time. But now, the November winds are here blowing all the dead leaves in every direction, laying down insulation for the coming winter. I can't wait for the first snowfall; I hope it's the one where I wake up in the middle of the night to look out the window, see it quiely coming down, shrouding everything in a sparkly white frost.....and I realize it's Sunday....I can enjoy it. Cocoa and pancakes for breakfast (I know, I have to inject food into every scenario); get up early, put on all my winter gear and go out and roll around in it like I used to when I was 7....take a walk around my now unrecognizable neighborhood. Snow adds a fresh perspective just when things are getting stagnant. And as annoying as it is to move around and move through, I am grateful for that. Because I know it won't be too long before the days start to get longer, the sultry nights return and I forget how cozy I felt curled up under layers of blankets in bed on a snowy Sunday morning.

How to Spend a Saturday Night...

In about 30 minutes, I get to go to the grocery store and I'm so excited!! I mean that sincerely! I enjoy wandering around the grocery store. There's so much to see. For instance, Vanilla Lavender, Gardenia & Pear Blossom, Chamomile & Lemon Verbena...no, not herbal teas. Fabric softener. That's right. Fabric softener. And they look so smooth and creamy, I almost feel like putting them in my coffee...except, I don't really drink coffee. But don't they sound delicious!! Here's some more! Rose & Violet, Water Lilly & Jasmine, Turquoise Frost, Pink Opal, Amethyst Mist....mmmmmm.....fabric softener....I want to buy every single one of them!!! They make me look forward to doing laundry!! And I do also enjoy doing laundry. For the longest time, I lived in an apartment with no washer & dryer; that's right; I had to go to the
l a u n d r y m a t. UGH!! I don't know why but for some reason, I found that rather depressing. But where I live now, there's facilities downstairs so it's almost as good as having my own. I've had my own numerous times but sh*t happens and ya make due with what is. So, in just a few minutes, I'll cruise the aisles of the grocery store, reading labels, planning meals and enjoy deciding which fabric softener flavor I want to sample this time. It's the little things that keep life soft.....

Farm Aid

Thru some cosmic chance, I got to go to Farm Aid last weekend. I got there just after 1 and stayed until Willie Nelson played his last note on a guitar that looked like it had seen more than it's share. Highlights include: the New Orleans style brass band that greeted concert goers at the entrance of the Comcast Center (or Tweeter Center or Great Woods, whatever the hell they're calling it these days); naturally raised pork smothered in barbeque sauce sizzling on giant grills (please forgive me Chrissie Hynde); roasted corn on the cob dripping in butter; watching and listening to Arlo Guthrie with his son and grandson on stage in the sunshine; a fully bearded, powerful, humble and acoustic Steve Earl; the legendary Jerry Lee Lewis pounding the piano keys at dinner time; pumpkin whoopie pies; fresh apples, peaches & raspberries; Chrissie Hynde, Martin Chambers and their new, younger Pretenders rippin' it up 1978 style; Tim Reynolds stunning guitar work; a full packed house of people from everywhere; enormous refried bean and brown rice burritos; John Mellencamp's exquisitely polished band and John's lingering rebellious attitude towards the establishment; Willie and his new found Brazilian Beat band; Willie and his old, comfortable, down home band; and my number one highlight: Neil Young....from the start of his set until he put his feedback ridden guitar down at the end of his rendition of "A Day in the Life". What a day it was.

Julie's Travel Tips

Flying nowadays is always an interesting experience, don't ya think? I recently made two trips out west. The lotion issue had me all stressed out; I mean, how much shampoo and conditioner will they allow me to bring on the plane before I'll be suspected of being a "terrorist"? And I feel so much safer now that all liquids and lotions have to be in those plastic freezer bags. phew. And of course I'm feeling really secure knowing we all have to take our shoes off and run them thru the special x ray machine cos there's nothing I personally enjoy more than walking around the filthy airport in my bare feet. But...at least it makes us all safer. And may I ask, why do the airlines not load the planes from the rear forward? Get rid of that "first class" bull sh*t, make the fares the same for everyone, put the people with children and those who need "assistance" in the rear of the plane (did I tell you my mother once brought a cane with her so she could board earlier than everyone else? No, she didn't need it and yes, I wish I were making this up); then you wouldn't have people standing in the aisles, jamming their "carry on" luggage, with their 32 ounces of liquid safely stored in plastic baggies, into the overhead bins while you're standing there waiting with someone else's "carry on" luggage jammed up your........
just a thought.

MUST HAVE!

Have you ever seen something you just had to have. I'm talkin' the kind of "thing" you daydream about owning for years. It was about five years ago at the Home Show that I saw it. I watched the demonstration....the vegetables, the fruit...whole apples....cantelope, seeds and all....entire carrots...pulverized into a flavorful, chocked full of vitimans elixir. I must have it!!! HOW MUCH DID YOU SAY IT COSTS? I COULD BUY A NEW COUCH FOR THAT PRICE or take an all inclusive trip to the Dominican Republic! Still, I fantasized about possesing that machine. Oh the healthy concoctions I would make! I'd get my five to seven fruits and vegetables out of the way each and every morning, all in one glass!! But how do I justify spending that amount of money on....a blender. But not just ANY blender...THIS is a VITAMIX!! The most powerful blender in the Universe. And it basically cleans itself! I'd love to tell you I saved and saved for the past five years to finally buy that blender but the truth is....I put it on my credit card. Now, I know what you're thinking, "Julie, you really need to get a life" or "it's people like you, Julie, who are ruining our nation's credit" or "how the hell much did you pay for that blender?". OK, I don't know what you're thinking but I can tell you, I'M no longer thinking about that blender....I'M using it every single day and if I'd bought it five years ago, I'D PROBABLY HAVE IT PAID OFF BY NOW!!!

Ripped...

You're in the doctor's office, thumbing through one of their magazines; you initially picked up that particular magazine because the cover touted "great summer recipes", complete with delicious, appetizing pictures on the cover! You're flipping through the pages quickly because soon they'll call your name and you'll have to put the magazine back on the table and go wait another twentiy minutes in the examining room wearing that stylish paper robe open in the back...what's this? where are the recipes? here's the pictures of the arugula salad with the grapefruit sections, the blackberry sangria, garlic herbed bread....but where are the recipes??? Some idiot ripped them out!! That idiot....is me....I ripped the recipes out of the magazine in the doctor's office. And to top it off, there's a slight possibility I won't even make the damn arugula salad...or the sangria....hopefully I'll give the bread a shot as it's only four ingredients: butter, garlic, herbs and a loaf of french bread. Yes, I took the magazine in the other waiting room and while I was sitting there in my paper robe, I ripped the recipes out of the magazine and stuffed them in my purse. I mean, how often do I even have the time to look through a magazine? Not to mention how impressed my company would be if I whipped out a beautiful arugula salad with grapefruit sections (because I have company so often...yea). I must have five hundred recipes I've clipped, ripped and snipped from newspapers and magazines THAT I'VE NEVER MADE!! I could probably dedicate the rest of my life to preparing the dishes from my recipe collection and still have a shoebox full! Now, please tell me I'm not the only one dreaming about enough time to experiment in the kitchen?...or sit leisurely on a porch swing reading "Shakey"?....or curl up on the couch watching the entire X File television series on DVD?....or organize my desk?.....clean out my purse?....yes, the recipes I pinched...are still in there...

Communication Breakdown

OMG! LOL Look at us!! Learning a new language (rudimentary as it is). Text-speak! Why do we Americans only speak one language? English. When you leave this country to visit another country, they seem to know AT LEAST two; their native tongue and another language...like, English. Why is it not mandatory that Americans learn at least two other languages. The key to every relationship is communication (isn't it?) and I have learned (the hard way sometimes) that the world does not revolve around me. I'm amused at the people who demand "in America YOU MUST SPEAK ENGLISH". America is a melting pot, welcoming all cultures (I thought...Statue of Liberty and all that?). So why don't we embrace all languages, maybe even learn to speak one or two more? So we can communicate better with everyone? I mean, WTF?

I got your password right here

so, I went on line this weekend to print my paycheck; I have direct deposit but I still print my check because, god forbid, I like to have a paper copy. well, you know how every so often you're asked to change your password "for security reasons"? I knew the day would eventually come after changing it, yet again, when I would forget what I chose and sure enough, I did. I have absolutely no idea what I picked for my password to get my paycheck. brilliant.

Then today, I get into work and there's this long missive from our IT department detailing new rules for passwords to get into the computer; apparently we'll now be required to change them.... frequently....and.....they are to be complex. are you f'n kidding me. I am so done with passwords. I detest them. soon I will have a thousand page file in my desk at home filled with passwords to each and every thing I need a password for. may I? my atm, my voice mail at home, my voice mail at work, to get into every computer I use, to get my paycheck, my credit card(s), any kind of on line account......AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! How's THIS for a password?
g0 f@(< y8R$=lf! yea, I know, not very complex....

No Parking on the Dance Floor

In my humble opinion, it's obvious special parking spaces need to be allotted for people with disabilities; however, having a baby is not, I repeat, not a disability, it is a privilege and therefore you will park where you can find a spot JUST LIKE I HAD TO WHEN MY KIDS WERE BABIES!!!

What's with the "parking for customers with infants" space at the grocery store? How about "parking for customers just running in for a pint of Ben & Jerry's" or "parking for customers who've eaten too much Ben & Jerry's"; "parking for customers who didn't realize the temperature was gonna drop 20 degrees by the end of the day and wore the wrong coat" or maybe "parking for customers with sore quads from doing too many squats"; I know: "parking for customers who need to use the bathroom NOW"! and what about "parking for customers who end up buying too much and have to load all those grocery bags in the car"; "parking for people too lazy to walk an extra 20 steps to the automatic door"? DEMAND YOUR RIGHTS!!!

They're Really Rockin' in Boston

Paul Perry & I had this conversation the other day: if an entertainer is past their prime, should they still be "entertaining"? We agreed, yes, if they still enjoy it, why not.

I went to see Chuck Berry at Berklee a few Sunday nights ago. I've always maintained Chuck is the king of rock and roll...sorry Elvis fans...but it's Chuck...and Little Richard that, in my opinion, ushered in the best era EVA!

The loose, raucous, wild, loud, sexual, sensual, freeing sound of rock and roll....and you know it when you're in it's presence. There are a lot of artists that some people attempt to convince us are rock and roll that are not rock and roll. Keith Richards, Grace Slick, Tom Petty, John Lennon: rock and roll......Madonna, Michael Jackson: not.

So why are the latter in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame? Good question. Regardless, Chuck Berry, at 81 years of age, put on a great show. His guitar playing and vocals sounded as rich and frisky as ever. Though nowhere near his prime, it was a joy to hear and see rock and roll incarnate and I hope he plays until he moves on to his next assignment.

Long live rock.

Yum!

What part of my brain decided it was a good idea to eat a generous portion of brownie and warm peanut butter cookie combo topped with vanilla ice cream last night.... and can I remove it? Their will never be enough yoga classes or bike rides to make up for THAT concoction!! And of course I woke up in the middle of the night feeling nauseous. I knew that would happen.... I ate it anyway. I have dessert every evening after dinner. I think it's more of a habit than the fact that I really want something sweet. If I don't have dessert, it feels like I've left something undone...god forbid. Yea, and there I was in Stop & Shop yesterday, comparing the calories and fat content in yogurt so I could purchase the one with the least amount of each then zipping down to the candy aisle and scooping up TWO, yes, TWO containers of milk chocolate covered dried cherries, my newest paramour. What in the hell is wrong with me? I'm a fairly intelligent woman but when it comes to dessert, I lose all common sense. I still think I can eat like I did when I was 8. Well, I suppose as long as I don't start thinking I can party like I did when I was 18...

Getting hot and sweaty... YOGA!

Mention the word yoga to anyone and the response is automatically "Oh, I couldn't do that....I'm not flexible enough" and then something about yoga being a "mostly female activity" and then I throw my head back in laughter!!! I began toying with yoga over two years ago...Bikram Yoga...the one "practiced" in the "hot" room. Yea, it's hot. Well over 100 degrees...with humidity of course; twenty six postures...and they all suck...every one of them...sucks. But here's the thing, once you start going, you can't stop. And I can't for the life of me figure out why. The same twenty six postures. You spend an hour and a half, ninety minutes, watching yourself contort your body back and forth, side to side, balancing, stretching, bending, breathing, sweating...lots of sweating. At first I was a little freaked out by the sound of dripping sweat from the guy next to me...then I realized, it was me who was dripping. And, yes, there are more women than men in the class; scantily clad women...people of all shapes, sizes and ages and let me tell ya, I wouldn't want to mess with any of them cos if you can stay in a sweltering room with twenty plus people all with mats and towels and perspiration flying for ninety minutes doing things with your body that you never thought possible, well, there's just no telling what could happen if you crossed one of them...probably nothing as yoga has an odd calming affect that seems to last thru the day....hmm...what is it about yoga? It's not at all like ordinary exercising. Your body does change...and so does your mind. It's a personal pilgrimage every time you practice...yes, practice, because it seems no matter how many years you "practice", you never get "there"...oh, you'll notice you'll get deeper into the poses but, like life, it's the journey. And there's no way you can do yoga without being in the present moment. At the conclusion of the class, you really feel like you accomplished something...a miracle? Without doubt, every one of us in the room during class is having our own internal dialogue. Mine goes something like this: "breathe? really....how in the hell am I supposed to do that with my body folded over, my hands behind my calves and my ass up in the air! My forehead on my knee while looking at my stomach? would you mind if I wiped the sweat out of my eyes....I can't see my stom...oh gawd....look at my stomach....sit down even more than I already am? but I'll fall...ok, are you happy now, I just lost my balance and fell..." But yet, I'll be back, tomorrow morning, 6 am class, cos if I take too much time to rationalize it, I won't go...why would I?

*ok, I may have been a tad harsh on the yoga so let me just add this: you will never enjoy a drink of ice cold water or a long hot shower as much as you will after a Bikram Yoga class. That in and of itself is worth the 90 minutes of suffering. And your body will change for the better. And your mind will be stronger and more focused. You will feel fabulous. There.

TV!

What's with the tv's everywhere? In the grocery store check out line? Hanging from the ceilings in the mall? In the bathroom at a fast-food restaurant on the interstate? Do we really need this all encompassing info-tainment? Yes, big brother is here. Big brother is there. Big brother is everywhere. I bet within the next decade your television will be able to watch YOU! To make sure you're conforming; dressing in the assigned style, drinking the designated beverage, taking your prescribed medications that keep you just numb enough so you can't think for yourself.....so you can't protest.... no thoughts or feelings of your own...unable to express yourself without permission....keeping you just alive enough to mate and work....like a drone...wait a minute...HEY.....WHAT THE......STOP WATCHING ME!!!!

How hard is it to use the blinkers in your car?

How hard is it to use the blinkers in your car? I'm just asking. I mean, basically, you have a thought, "I'm going to be making a turn up ahead." Then, if I'm correct, you would use your left fingers and flick the stick protruding out of the left side of your steering wheel, either up, for "right turn" or down for "left turn"....a quick "flick"....your tail lights, blink blink blink, alerting other drivers as to which way your car will be turning and, if I'm not mistaken, once you've actually taken the turn, when the steering wheel has straightened back out, doesn't the blinker automatically shut off?

Isn't that the way it works?

Because if it is, well, that seems relatively simple; easy enough for any moron to do....and then other drivers will know your intentions....unless of course you want to continue to keep it a secret...

Don't UFO's ever come east?

Ever since I heard the recent story of yet another UFO sighting, this one in Texas, I've been gazing up at the sky hoping to see one for myself. Apparently Larry King did a whole show on the Texas sighting. I didn't see the show but a friend who did, told me those who witnessed the UFO event were quite respectable and credible. There was a pretty decent sighting a year or so ago at O'Hare Airport, too.

Don't UFO's ever come east? We have an airport...and plenty of open sky...well, ok, not as open as Texas or New Mexico but, come on, Chicago? We have at least as much sky as Chicago...don't we? So, come on....I wanna see one as big as a football field! With all the little silver saucer shaped shuttle crafts...not up in New Hampshire.....right over Boston harbor....the truth is out there...I believe....and I'm waiting.

PICK UP AFTER IT

It's first thing in the morning...and I mean, first thing....still dark and deafeningly quiet...no one but the guy who delivers the Globe to the neighbors is stirring....and me and my little dog, Winnie, are out in the yard...circling, walking, sniffing, because you know how important it is to find just the right spot to squat....no, not me, HER!!

I dutifully follow behind her with a baggie. Yes, of course I pick up after my dog. Why doesn't everyone pick up after their dog? Now, if it's your own yard your dog is leaving presents on, fine. But if you live in a communal setting, pick up after your damn dog. It's that simple.

Do I sound like a crabby old lady yelling at the neighborhood dogs to "get off my lawn"? Tough. I'm not yet a homeowner; I share the yard. I have respect for where I live and the people who share the space (well, except for my very loud stereo....but I don't do it often....and definitely not too late....and it doesn't stink up the joint...and you don't have to clean it off your shoe!).

My point is just this: if you own a dog, PICK UP AFTER IT. If you walk your dog in the neighborhood, PICK UP AFTER IT. It's easy, it's responsible and if you don't, you may see ME squatting out in your yard one of these dark mornings....kidding....way too cold for that.

I'm a consumer of ridiculous proportions...

It's official. I'm a consumer of ridiculous proportions. New Years morning: Stop n' Shop - tissue aisle - 99 cents for Stop n' Shop brand...pretty enough box, but LOOK! The Kleenex brand has d e s i g n e r designs and sooooo many to choose from and the Puffs brand has h o l o g r a m s on some of their tissue boxes! I spend at least twenty minutes examining each artistic arrangement and finally decide on some fun Kleenex designs; bright, colorful gerber daisies, subtle victorian pink roses, bubbly picasso fish and a classic chess piece design (4 boxes for 5 dollars). I paid an extra dollar for pretty cardboard, yes I did....cos I'm worth it.

The place erupts with cheers and screams...

December 7th, 3:20 Friday afternoon, driving ever so slowly down Route 93/128/95 headed towards Stamford Connecticut, usually about a 3 hour ride. Today it's taking much longer and I'm feeling anxious. We have to be in NY by 10:30. The weather is not cooperating; the traffic is not cooperating; there's a Fung Wa bus being towed and we're stuck in various traffic jams from Boston to Providence to just outside where we will hop on a train into Manhattan. Five hours later, we're finally headed into the city. I'm so excited I can't stand it. I'm also so tired I can't stand it. I'm usually in bed between 8 & 9...no, I'm not kidding....and it's now past my bedtime but barring any kind of freak happenstance, we'll make BB King's Club by show time.

There's a guy sitting across from us drinking a beer on the train; as a matter of fact, there are a lot of people quietly sipping their beer as they make their way to wherever their evening will end up. We pull into Grand Central Station with enough time to grab a sausage sandwich from a street vendor. Wooo hoooo! We're in New York. We walk and eat and talk and look at all the unfamiliar sights of the city and it's not that cold out but still I wish I'd worn my hat; had I known I'd be standing in line for at least 45 minutes I wouldn't have carelessly flung it on my back seat..Don’t ya love hindsight?

So, there we are, about 200 of us, lined up on 42nd street, waiting for the doors to open for the 10:30 show. The first show is letting out. Passing comments by patrons who have seen the early show range from "he was great" to "hope he shows up" to "you wasted your money" to "he's still got it". Well, which is it?

When are they gonna let us in? Will I be able to stay awake for this long awaited show? Will my feet ever thaw out? We're moving forward...slowly...eventually the club is in sight and there it is on the marquis; the reason for this ridiculous journey when it would probably have been better if I'd kept my ass in Boston, gone to bed early so I could do some sort of holiday activity that I'll be rushing around to accomplish before THE DAY....there it is: SLY & FAMILY STONE. And we're going in the building. I've been here before to see Chuck Berry...very fun. I guess we were closer than I thought because I can walk right up front. I park myself in front of the keyboards and that's where I will be for the next two hours. My feet hurt, I'm so tired I'm delirious but I'm here to see Sly & the Family Stone.

It's an interesting mix of people waiting for the show to start and after what seems like an eternity, out walks a thin, Mohawk touting, gangster dressed SLY STONE. The place erupts with cheers and screams. He begins to tell the story of how it came to be that this band of gypsies re-united and came to New York after a 33 year absence. The crowd doesn't want to hear him talk; they want to hear him sing. He invites the band to come out and take their places with their respective instruments and ever so gently launches into "sing a simple song"...everyone's screaming and raising their hands and dancing and the band segue's into "if you want me to stay" which I had COMPLETELY forgotten was one of their songs!!!! And it was about that time that I lost my mind.....the band was funky and hot and Sly's still got it....he sounded great. The rest of the show was good but in those first two songs I realized I missed seeing an incredible band growing up. So, was it worth the six hour trip, the two hour wait and staying up WAY past my bedtime? You bet it was. Would I do it again? Yes. But this time I'd wear my hat.

Against Spanking

As unpopular as this may be, I am against spanking children. I'm against hitting anyone except in obvious self defense. I didn't always think this way. I grew up in an era where if your mom told you to go pull a branch off a tree so she could whack you with it, you did it. My little brother and I were spanked with "the belt", "the switch" and ”the stick". My younger sister got "the wooden spoon". We were slapped in the mouth, had our hair pulled and just plain smacked. We didn't deserve any of it. Did we act up as children? Of course we did. We were children. Did I have a fresh mouth when I was growing up? You bet I did. But I did not deserve to be hit.

Because of the way I grew up, as a young mother, I too, thought it was ok to threaten to spank my daughter and to carry out that threat if she didn't "behave". She never deserved to be hit either but I'm sure in my unenlightened youth, she got spanked at one time or another for something. Thankfully, by the time I had my son, I was becoming a little more awake....conscious....aware....and I realized hitting a child for any reason was not something I was comfortable with.

I admit there were moments I had to leave a room to cool off; and I admit to using foul language, never in a threatening way towards my children but enough for them to know when I was really angry. If I could turn back the clock, I would do some things differently...when you know better, you do better. And a grown adult hitting a child to make them behave is not ok with me.

There are alternatives. Aren't we the only industrialized country that still legally allows adults to hit children? I'm not claiming to know the right way to raise kids but for me, hitting a child is not an option; and if I'm not mistaken, research shows it is detrimental to children and does no good whatsoever, so, again, can we get out of the sixteenth century? It used to be more acceptable for a man to hit his wife to make her "behave". Now it's called "domestic abuse". We are all becoming more aware.

Good Friends, Small Scissors and...Tweezers

So, there I was, perched in front of the only truly honest reflection of my face, with a pair of scissors stuck up my nose...

For days I'd felt like I had something hanging out of my nose and no one was telling me. I blew, I scanned my nose in my tiny pocketbook mirror, asked people "do you see anything hanging out of my nose?" Finally, I sat down, in front of my super duper, brightly lit magnifying makeup mirror at home...and there it was. A rogue nose hair long enough to qualify for overtime .

Now, this is a fairly new thing for me; hair growing in curious places and in lengths I didn't realize the random hair could grow. Now, as if fighting gravity weren't enough, I have to scan my body for deviant hairs. Thank goodness for good friends, small scissors and...tweezers.