Now Here’s Something Interesting

According to this New York Times Interactive whatever-it-is, white, women, aged 24-44, college educated have an unemployment rate of 3.6% compared to 8.6% for all people. I wonder how accurate these numbers are as my library goes into yet another round of cuts, 30% to be exact, rather than the previously identified 7.5%.

My Life as a Johnny Cash Song

I love the Man in Black. I just never thought my life would be one of his songs. I have been trying to pinpoint when things started to go south. My guess is 2007. I had the prospect of a trip to Africa to keep me distracted but I did start to notice in 2008. It wasn’t until I returned that the slide into a JC song got real. That’s when the shit approached the fan, pardon my French. Here’s why. After months of stress, layoff rumors and multiple interviews with no offers, I did get laid off, managing to keep my job only because people I liked and respected left for greener pastures. My business fell off a cliff. I had financial woes. I was diagnosed with Meniere’s disease. I decided to sell my house. My dad died. My dog died. My house sold and now I have <shudder> to move. And I ain’t got no man. OK, that last part is the last thing on my mind right now but, hey, that’s life in a JC song. At least I never picked cotton or shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.

The Hits, They Keep Coming

I’m sad to report that my dog, DOG, took a turn for the worse today. This morning when Ruby and Winnie (yes, I’m watching Jeremy’s extremely irritating dog) went out early this morning DOG did not move. I thought maybe it was early, he didn’t need to go out. But he still hadn’t moved an hour later. When I tried to help him get up he yelped. I called Kristin then my mom when Kris didn’t pick up, in tears to the point Mom couldn’t understand me. My mother called Brandon and Gina. G told me to try to give him water. I put a bowl in front of him but he was lying on his side with no way to get a drink without moving. He didn’t seem that interested anyway and seemed slightly put out when I dribbled water on his muzzle. I lay on the floor with him and put the phone to his ear so Gina could say her goodbye. While I was out of the room, he pooped, got into a different position and spilled the water. I encouraged him to stand up which he finally did. Keep in mind, he’d been lying in that same position for at least two hours, probably longer since I don’t know that he wasn’t lying that way all night. He had a hard time walking and was very shaky but he did go outside. I coaxed him back into my office so that I could work and also keep an eye on him. Kris got my messages and stopped by on her way to work. She examined him (she really has learned a lot about vet care volunteering for the Humane Society) and said to keep an eye on him, give him the aspirin (I had already done that), put a hot towel on his back leg and give him a doggie massage later. We agreed that I’d keep an eye on him and if he is the same she’ll come with me on Saturday. This gives me a few extra hours with him.

He spent the day in my office lounging on his pillow. Ruby curled next to him, a first but I think she was more interested in lying on the fleece I laid over his pillow than in cuddling with him in the last minutes of his life. I wanted to take a picture but the second I picked up my camera he got up and moved over the cement area by the door. He sometimes likes to lay there. It was weird, though, because he didn’t get up and move like dogs will do. He looked disoriented and seemed to be trying to go into the shelf that holds my golf shoes, not that he’d fit. He finally got himself levered on the ground and seemed comfortable there.

This afternoon someone stopped by to look at my house which is for sale. This person did not bother making an appointment, a mistake. Jeremy’s (extremely irritating) dog barked the whole five minutes she was here. And also, DOG roused himself sufficiently to crap on the floor right in front of her. I don’t think she’s gonna make an offer.

Oh, and did I mention that it’s exactly two weeks from the day my dad died?

Digging on the Eagles… of Death Metal

When I’m working, especially on something repetitive, the optimal situation is listening the music. Total silence is like riding in a car; instant narcolepsy. Anyone who has ever been on a car trip with me knows what that’s like. I can drive for hours and be wide awake, especially with a Coke from McDonalds. Put me in the passenger seat and it’s lights out. Same with repetitive work.

Since a nap is not an option when I’m working (I really do need to get paid, you know) I have an ever-changing array of songs, albums and/or bands that occupy a space in my brain that lets me hear the music and not be distracted by it. Right now, it’s a band called The Eagles of Death Metal. DW picks it constantly when we’re on the Teen Desk. Now it’s all I can listen to. It is my repetitive work listening pleasure. How can you not love a band with lyrics like, “I want you so hard, I want you so good,” and “You be my sugar I’ll be your cherry cola”?

No Weddings, Just a Funeral

My father has died and I am Idaho for his funeral.

It feels dramatic to write the words. My father and I were not close but we did try. Our efforts didn’t take but there was effort. I took up golf so we’d have something to talk about. He liked to fish, too, but golf was much more reasonable for me.

I was able to get a flight to Idaho. Fortunately I did not have to “take advantage” of Delta’s bereavement rate which was more even than last-minute fares online. Not sure the point, other than the fee to change the ticket is waived. But if you’ve got a date for a funeral, I can’t see the point. Funeral dates are not moving targets.

But anyway, I made it to Idaho. The funeral is Wednesday, August 5. Two days before my birthday and one day after my sister Tiff’s birthday. Dad made all his own arrangements so I haven’t had anything to do.

For friends who have wondered, I’m doing well. There are sad moments that hit me at odd times but for the most part, it doesn’t feel different. Even though I’m back home. My visits with Dad have always been sporadic. My mom raised me so she gets the right to drag me all over the place on visits, I guess. This time is no different.

My First Fan Letter

I’m so excited. I wrote my first fan letter. * And I heard back! It was to HRH Jill Conner Brown of Sweet Potato Queen fame. She’s the author, actually. My giddines is similar to that which I described someplace else on this blog were I ever to encounter one of the Palomar-Hernandez brothers. I had to write this particular letter for two reasons. First, because I enjoyed the latest book, American Thighs, and can’t wait for the audio. I listen to the other audio I have when I’m in a crabby mood. The second reason, I noticed the publisher used the same artwork as another favorite book, Welcome to Temptation by Jennifer Cruisie. I got my copy, which I still have, on Oxford Street in London ona visit to Darah in about 2002. Also, the charactors make a porn movie and one title is “Fleshy Thighs”. It’s a good book, I recommend it. I’m probably a nudge for pointing it out but I don’t care.

* So it was an email. What’s your point?

Create TV

I made it just under the wire for the digital television conversion which happened yesterday. In keeping with my tradition of keeping things until they absolutely croak, I will not be getting a new television when the one I’ve had since 1999 still gives a good picture. I got the converter and rabbit ears a few weeks ago from Amazon. It was delivered the day before Kristin went to Chicago. So it sat, exactly as I had unpacked it, until she got back. Although I’m a whizz at software, I’m hopeless at hardware. Without her help (Who am I kidding? She did it all while I watched.) everything would probably still be sitting, unhooked, where I left it after getting frustrated. Now it’s hooked up and I can watch limited TV. I get about 3 channels that I would actually watch. The rest seems to be religious crap or in Spanish. I don’t get ABC but I can live with that since they put almost everything online. What I miss the most is HGTV and E!. A totally acceptable substitute for HGTV is Create TV, PBS’s answer to HGTV, FoodNetwork and the Travel Channel. They have well-known hosts (Katie Brown, Sarah Molton, Ming Si). I have already developed a crush on Rick Bayless. He does a show called Mexico: One Plate at a Time. He’s in Chicago, I think, which strikes me as ironic, but he rides a scooter. How hot is that?

Quitters as Economic Indicators

I just read the best article. According to this article, regular economist types and such august personage as Alan Greenspan keep track of when men replace their quitters.* You read that right. It seems that when you put off replacing your tatty underpants, well, that says something about the economy. This is the type of stuff you just can’t make up and also makes me glad to be a human being.

* Quitters defined as underpants with elastic that has given up the fight. May also be threadbare and have holes in strategic places.

Game Night

Went to Game Night at Kat’s house on Saturday. Great fun. We played Uno, Rock Band (Lissa and I did a kick-ass version of “Crazy Train”. The game gave us 80%, probably because I know the words from way back and not because we’re great singers. Kris and Wendy got boo’ed twice.), Trivial Pursuit and Fact or Crap. I must buy that game. Good snacks, too. One of the things I love about Kat is we have the same taste for food. She breaded and oven-baked pickles. So tasty. My contribution was a sangria-like drink from a recipe I found in a magazine. You take cheap red wine, cut it with apple juice and float some fruit in there. Since it can’t compete with real sangria, I decided henceforth it will be called vino tinto. Emphasis on the “veeeno” and “teeento”. It’s really good, though, and because it’s cut with juice you can drink that much more.

I Made Bread

That’s right. I made my first loaf of bread. It’s cooling right now but I cut myself a big peice. It’s from a very basic white bread recipe so it tastes, surprisingly, like plain white bread. With butter it’s tasty. I got the recipe from my new favorite cookbook The No-Salt, Lowest-Sodium Cookbook bye Donald A Gazzinga.
First, I gathered all the ingredients, bowls and measuring accoutement:

Next I followed the recipe. Here’s what the dough looks like:

Here’s the final product before I cut myself a big hunk:


Now that I feel more comfortable in my ability to produce a loaf of bread that doesn’t taste like crap, I’m up for experimentation. I saw something on YouTube for Mushroom Stuffed Bread…