Monday, March 17, 2014

Returning to the Quiet Revolution

I decided to blow away the cobwebs and dust off this blog.  Feel a bit like Frodo returning to the Shire after all his adventures.  Except it's not as bad for me - at least I don't have hairy feet or a round door to step through, though I do have the same question, how do you return to an old life.  Beware searching the past - you will look at your own face and see a stranger.  Gone is the solo practitioner of old, although I still do a little freelance legal work; gone is the single girl trying to avoid weirdos in Safeway; hello the happily married girl with an extra 30 lb, and severe cystic fibrosis and a half-finished novel, and somehow, still a smile on her face.

Friday, April 24, 2009

A Poem for Nancy Grace

Blonde bob like the helmet of some childhood superhero
Although it's hard to imagine this wingless, clear-eyed human Scales of Justice as anything like a child
Righteous indignation congeals behind the eyes of this people's Cassandra; wrath roils off the tongue of this TVland cyclops of the missing, the murdered and the mute.

The female murderer is Nancy's prey: every gesture, sigh, smile, frown, word, sentence and mumbling prove guilt.
Witness Nancy Grace, more than merely judge, jury and executioner, but the levying officer on the defendant's very name,
For to be renamed "the Tot Mom" is the death even of Death.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Thursday in the Park with Charlie

When I first got Charlie, I tried the Caesar Milan approach. Charlie never bought it. Instead, we have now settled into a comfortably neurotic relationship where I kiss my little cuddle-bunny's feet and Charlie luxuriates in the attention like a small tan and chocolate deity. It's just not that easy to take a deity for a walk. Like most princelings, Charlie prefers to be carried. He periodically stops, stubborn as a small mule and refuses to move on. The expression in his eyes is always one of outraged disgust, at being forced to walk along a dusty, dirty path in the park. Even his attempts to chase the squirrels are half-hearted, as if he knows a mere mortal is treating him like a dog, instead of the royalty he actually is. If only I could find a dog park where they have a red carpet. Sometimes I sense Charlie watching me as I drive, his eyes half-closed, no, not watching me. Contemplating me, in a quiet but slightly puzzled way. As if he wishes that he could share just one word of the wisdom he has in one wag of his little tail.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

I'm unemployed and starting to hate my new boss!

Yip, looking for a job sucks. People say looking for a job is a job in itself, so if that's true, my new boss is starting to really bug me. Let me think. Moody? Check. Talks about her dog all the time? Check. Talks to the dog constantly in annoying doggie-talk... poopsie-woopsie, Mommy's just going out for a second, Mommy loves you little flumpakin. Slave-driver? Check. Annoyingly perfectionist? Check? Rewrites each cover letter 10 times before sending out? Check. Pay? Lousy. Actually, haven't seen a paycheck yet. Definitely time to write a strongly worded letter to management.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

My dog has learned a new trick!

Actually, it's a variation on an old trick. When I'm at my desk working, Charlie will sometimes roll over and look all cute - his way of saying, time to pet me! Except about a year ago he would do this, and then as soon as I got up, he would race off to get a toy and get me to play with him.

Now he has started doing the same thing with wanting to being let out! He will go to the sliding glass door of my apartment, and stand there pawing the glass like he usually does when he needs to use his toilet (in his case a large section of newspapers spread out on my balcony outside). Now he goes to the door, acts like he wants to go out, and as soon as I'm half-way across the room to let him out, he rushed off to grab a toy and runs up to me with his best I'm the cutest dog in the world expression! I must admit his ploy usually works.

Turnips are the new potatoes

Yesterday I cooked with a Turnip for the first time. It should have made me feel like Old Mother Hubbard, but I was making the Minestrone soup recipe out of the new Weight Watchers cookbook. 3 points a serving, except mine would be less because I left out the potatoes. And the fabulous thing about turnips? They're like potatoes in texture, except they taste a little more oniony and they have about half the calories. Totally yum! Trust me, turnips are the new potatoes. Take that, Rachel Ray!