Brain Fry

Lately I've been mesmerized by tv.

Did you see the Hulu commercial with Alec Baldwin they launched at the Superbowl? Yeah, that's my mushy brain he's laughing about.

While I think everyone deserves to shut it down and vegitate now and again...it's become total habit (think drug habit) for me to escape work at 7:30PM, hit the house by 8-ish, and proceed to eat my reheated leftovers while curled up on the couch in front of the tv.

Weekends? Yup. The same. I do laundry and I watch tv. Glad I have that pause button for the DVR so I can hit the laundry room, the kitchen, and the bathroom once in a while.

Turns out I'm not alone. If you google tv addiction you'd be amazed at what comes up. Everything from scientific studies with graphs and charts, to support groups, to (love this irony) tv guides and blogs about what to watch tonight. (Enable much?)

One site had a bunch of scientific evidence from 2003-2005 including the average hours per day for leisure activities - look at that spike on TV!

I can't get behind the numbers on the male/female ratio in my household because while Hubby joins me sometimes, he is not nearly as zoned out or tuned in as I am. He has the ability to get up...in the MIDDLE OF A SHOW. (WTF!)..and just say, "I'm tired, I'm off to bed." Or to go into the other room and doodle on the computer, pick up a book, run out for errands, or even head out for a hike or photo shoot.

I, however, am glued to the "boob tube". And with umpteen gazillion channels, the movie package, AND DVR'd favorites, there is never a time when I say, "there's nothing on" anymore. I have a fear that I could become a pasty-faced goggle eyed freak with a self-induced case of agoraphobia and a vocabulary consisting of only one syllable words.

This chart was downright scary...because I had started my quest for blog fodder with a half-hearted tongue in cheek story about tv addiction. Then I looked at this chart...and you know...

I'm resting firmly in Phase 2. Well, to be honest, I'm pretty much Phase 3.

They say the first step is to admit you have a problem.

This article also goes on to say if you are so far gone (Phase 3) you have to make radical changes not just to watch less TV, but to exchange your tv time for other activities. Something Phase 3-ers have a very difficult time doing. In fact, the article suggests Phase 3-ers could actually experience physiological and psychological withdrawal symptoms just like any other addict.

Great.

Maybe I have to seriously consider how to make a change here.

{think think think}

Oops. Gotta run. NCIS starts in 20 minutes.

Glimmer of Hope

Do you remember that old poster of a kitten hanging from a tree branch by its claws and the headline, "Hang in There Baby"? I'm not trying to return to my cat theme of last post, but hell, I've been thinking of that animal an awful lot lately.

Last week I attended an industry conference in New Orleans where client after client told me how they were cutting back severely and just hoping for a turnaround in 2011. So, not only have they faced the bleak picture of 2009, but have already essentially given up on 2010. As a marketing professional this is one of those times where you need to get a little corny and say - every challenge presents an equal opportunity. (Gag - such an overused phrase). But still, it is essentially true. This is the time that you need to be even more vocal about the value you provide to your clients (or your employer). More importantly, you need to actually PROVIDE value (especially in cost-saving strategies they need). Most importantly, you need to not retreat and hide under the bed. Silence denotes surrender.

That being said, it is also a time I have to make tough calls on approving training or overtime for my staff. I also watch with concern the peaks and valleys of workload rather than the steady stream we had become used to over the past 8 years. So now I am urging my staff to dig up the old wish list - the things we think are valuable but we never seem to have the time to implement. Of course, they must be NO COST wish list items, but still...

All of our firm's numbers look good so far this year, but I think the executives see a cliff quickly approaching and they are trying to be proactive in cutting waste. We have salary freezes, hiring freezes, and promotion freezes. Essentially, it is getting cold in here! As a prime example, I had a stellar review today - really beyond the norm - but since there is no money for raises and no promotions this year, it doesn't cost the firm anything to be overwhelmingly positive and I have to accept the pat on the back for its own value, I guess.

Just when I feel like I'm about to lose my grip on that little branch however... one of my unemployed friends (yes, there are several now) emailed to tell me he has accepted a new position.

A small glimmer of hope.

Purrr-fect

**Warning - if you are an animal lover in general, a cat lover specifically, this is the post for you. If not...tune out now you'll be bored to tears.**

As many of you already know - since my very popular blogging hubby announced it some time ago, we have adopted two new furry friends into our family. After 6 months of turning items dropped on the floor into the ghost of our last pet - the memorable CK Dexter Haven - we determined we were ready to take the emotional leap into pet-hood again.

We knew we did NOT want to re-create our experience with Dex - the good or the bad - but to create a new one. I begain searching on http://www.petfinder.com/ for local charities that supported pet adoption programs. I specifically skipped any cats that physically reminded me of Dex, staying well clear of black fur. And I was mostly focusing on kittens.

The best laid plans.

After talking with a dear friend who is of the highest order of all animal lovers - the kind who takes in strays and DOES NOT reject them if they get extremely ill, destroy property, attack other house pets, or any other digression - we started to consider adult cats as an option. She said that usually the kittens find homes, but many of the adults are left to live in shelters, non-permanent homes, or worst of all be put to sleep because they are no longer as cute as a kitten.

So, new plan.

We decided to wander in to our local PetSmart who offer space in their store on weekends to some pet adoption organizations. We walked up to the glass and immediately separated. Hubby made eye contact with a wildly gesticulating 12-week old grey/black tabby, while I melted at the golden eyes staring soulfully out at me from (you guessed it) a big black furry face.

We've got a live one!

Within seconds the "crazy cat ladies" as I will affectionately and not inaccurately term the women of the adoption organization, descended upon us and wanted to know what we were looking for in a pet. They quickly opened cages and placed the kitten in Hubby's arms, and the black cat in mine. Immediate purring commenced from both animals and we were hooked. We placed them on the floor together where they...inspected?...one another. The kitten, being young, foolish and rambunctious, immediately leaped on the black cat until a warning hiss sent her scurrying. Still, they seemed compatible enough, and we were ready.

Red tape and paperwork.

I sat down at the table and began the paperwork. The adoption application that had to be filled out were 6 pages long! We had to pass a kind of fit test to ensure we were appropriate to adopt. They asked for references, commitment to spay but NOT declaw, commitment to not set limits on how much we would spend for vet care in event of illness, commitment to not allow the cats outdoors, etc. etc. etc. The paperwork warned of serious screening of references, imminent home visits, and retrieval of the pets should the home be considered unsuitable. In addition, we had to meet with the woman currently fostering the black cat as she required preapproval.

Crazy cat ladies indeed.

After about 15 minutes in walks the woman fostering the cat we wished to adopt. Complete with pink sweatshirt with sequined kitties, stretch pants, big Edith Head black plastic framed glasses, and jet black dyed hair down to her waist, she was a sight to behold. She gave us her own little pre-screening once over and pronounced us acceptable and then took us on a whirlwind tour of the store to pick out just the right food, toys, litter, and accoutrements to make our house perfect for the Queen. She also indicated that both cat and kitten might leap up on our table to be fed since she was currently fostering NINE cats and SIX dogs and she had to feed the cats on her dining room table so the dogs didn't eat their food. Ok, I love cats, but yuck. I really don't want something that licks its own butt and genitals eating off my dining room table.

The Queen and the Princess.

The Queen, who was christened Yasmine before we got her (we call her Yazzy or Yazmatazz) is only a little over 1 year old, and weighs twice what Dexter ever weighed. In short, she's a porker. And, despite my declarations to stay away from black cats, she is JET black.

She LOVES getting attention from us - but in typical cat fashion she has specific boundaries and restrictions. She wants to be petted, but does not want to be in our laps. She will allow herself to be carried, but not held. She does NOT like her belly to be touched, but arches her back and sticks her ass up in the air so we can pay attention to her lower back area - petted, scratched, patted, whatever we like all the time. She also is very fond of being our morning wake-up call and likes to crawl on our pillows and bat our faces at about 4AM. Maybe she will finally succeed in turning me into a morning person. And she does not feel that we deserve or should expect any privacy while in the bathroom. She wants IN. NOW.

The Princess, who was originally named Daphne and we re-named Penny, is a pistol. She likes to be in our faces (literally) and has discovered one of Dex's favorite resting places, wrapped around my laptop with the double heat source of sunspots and laptop motor fans.

She is a typical kitten - everywhere at once - up down and over - and using her claws to go vertical at every opportunity. She loves to crawl up the chairs we have in our home office, which have a tapestry like fabric that she can really hook into. I can't say the chairs (or I) are quite so happy about it. She will not leave Yaz alone. Ever. Ever. Ever. She likes to bat at Yaz until Yaz gets to a point where she either engages in a full out throw-down or runs away with the little kitten chasing her. I can't express how funny it is to see the big lumbering fat black cat being chased up and down the stairs by the skinny sleek little tabby. Rarely it turns the other way, which is almost as funny as Penny tends to turn at the last minute and jump about 4 feet straight up in the air always catching Yaz by surprise.

Our new family unit.

It's been an interesting transition again - having just become accustomed to life without an animal, to take in two new and strange creatures. I think it's going to work out.

But that commitment to not declaw? That's still up for debate.

Only in New Orleans...

...would the Ritz Carlton mini-bar be stocked casually with these:

Hangover Relief
The Power is in the Fizz!

The Ritz Carlton (complete with lion logo) Intimacy Kit

2 condoms, 2 obstetrical towelettes, 1 package of lubricating jelly

Enough said.

iTunes - Skewing the Database

So in my master's program at Mville, we often discuss the interactive function of today's marketing-purchase-data record cycle. If you order a book on Amazon it automatically categorizes your purchase and starts to recommend books of similar topic, style, author, etc. It immediately tells you what other books were purchased in combination with your selection by other shoppers. Powerful algorithms are cranking away in the background advising you like an expert on the next chick lit book you'll love, or the classic author you have neglected, or the book on knitting (which must be related to a gift purchase, because god knows you don't knit).

Today I skewed my iTunes profile. I made my very first purchase. My iTunes library to date has been completely constructed by transferring our bizarre CD collection into the computer. But yesterday I switched away from NPR/CBS depressing economy news and sought ear candy with WPLJ - long lived pop-rock radio station complete with extremely annoying morning team of idiots. They had brought into the studio a young british singer I'd never heard of - Lily Allen. Her music was pop with attitude, and probably way to young for me, but it was new, fun, and I enjoyed it. Her voice was a little smoky and her slight cockney accent came through as she sang.

So today, I did it. I hit the purchase button on iTunes and purchased the entire album for $9.99.

As it downloaded I noticed a little red box to the side...what does that say?

Oh dear. EXPLICIT.

I started looking at the song titles.

Oh dear. One is titled F**K You.

Hmmmm.

So you can just guess what kind of recommendations I'm getting from the iTunes Store "Genius" now.

But I have to admit. I like that F**K You song. It's a bouncy little rendition that makes me smile. And with the news these days (another friend called me for help with his resume, having just lost his job), a little F**K You song goes a long way.

Abe & Charlie

So it's quite the date on the calendar - celebrating the birth of Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin.







Old Abe would be 200 years old today, if it wasn't for that assassination thing. Oh, and that natural inability for humans to live that long too.


I recently got to see the Lincoln Memorial in person for the first time. It was an amazing sight to see. But if you've ever been there you'll notice it's not like in the movies when a contemplative moment can be spent gazing into the alabaster face of Mr. Lincoln, solemnly reading his words, considering the historic ramifications of his life. No, it is a mob scene with a gazillion school kids on their annual trip, screaming babies, and generations of Americans in bad tourist outfits trying to hit 22 sites in an hour.


Still...if you can shut all that out and just consider the vision he must have had and the strength, and the fortitude, and the brilliance, to do what he did...say what he did...and plant the seeds that he did...its so humbling. It really makes you wonder how history chooses to find the souls who can leave their mark in such meaningful ways. And do these remarkable individuals know what impact they will have 200 years later?


Those seeds Lincoln planted have grown slowly and unsteadily, but they are gradually bearing fruit. And while we still have a long way to go, we can proudly declare we've come far...all following in the footsteps of this great man.

----

And then there's Charlie - known to some of you as Charles Darwin - a man who still causes angst and strife among the hords of faithful and blind who cannot conceive of an alternative meaning to 'God created the world in 7 days'.


If Darwin had done nothing else but piss off the religious fanatics of the world, I would worship HIM as if a god. But in reality his brilliance did not stop there, but in laying the groundwork for understanding of who and what we are, how we have survived thus far, and the very essence of us - in the discovery of genes. While Darwin probably had no concept that genes would someday be discovered and hold the truth and key to our ultimate survival, he certainly understood that the characteristics that genes play a role in developing created our ability to be "fit" enough for the world.


It makes so much sense that I cannot believe that anyone disputes it.


---

If I weren't so afraid of losing my job and not finding one again before I starved and had to move me, my hubby, and my two kitties to a nice little Whirlpool box in the alley, I'd quit my job tomorrow. What would I do? I would do nothing but read books about Abe Lincoln and locate fossils to mail to school board members who want to subvert children's education by eliminating evolution in science classes and teaching creationism.

Really, these people need a bonk on the head.

Instead I'll have to settle for marking the date on my calendar and thanking Abe for starting us down the path to a better world (if only he had tackled gay rights too)...and thanking Charlie for upending the ridiculous and showing us light and reason. Oh, and creating the premise for Survivor.

Do the Math

I do way too much thinking when I'm driving. Really I should be paying attention to the road, but the drive to/from work is so automatic my mind wanders and wanders and wanders.

Tonight I was thinking about the economy...again...and getting freaked out...again. All I had to hear was that the stock market dropped almost 400 points...again...and my mind started spinning...again.

So I started to do the math. Assume there are about 200 million adults in the U.S. population between the ages of 15-64. Then conservatively assume that of those 200 million 50% are actively earning money. So we're down to 100 million potential spenders. Then assume only 50% of them have dispensable income available to them...another conservative figure I would think. So now we are down to 50 million.

Then, assume 50 million people represent say 30 million households - assuming some partnerships, marriages, co-habitation, multi-adult family households, etc. So how much could each of those households spend to equal the $800 billion that equates to our pending stimulus bill?


$27,000 U.S. greenbacks folks...per household.


Now I would consider our household (luckily) still one of those 30 million. But here's the thing. We just bought a car in December for, you guessed it, $27,000. Granted it is financed for a few years, but essentially it has been spent. So, I think we've done our part.

Now since this $800 billion is actually the SECOND stimulus package of this amount to be put in place, you can double that household bill of $27k. And just imagine the hangover THAT will create for all of us when the tax bill comes due. So, before they start adding up number three, I think the rest of you 29,999,999 housholds need to get out there and help out this sickly and sad economy. Buy a car. Buy a coat. Hell, buy lunch. Just get out there and open those fists.

(and in the background I hear my Dad..."save your money!")

This math is making me tired.

The Unwillingness to Say No

In all of the "profiles" I've done through various team building activities at work, and through all the 360 reviews, etc. there has been one major and consistent flaw pointed out in my personality - I'm just the girl who can't say no. (at least at work)

I'm too accommodating. I'm too easy on my clients. I don't stop to ask "Should" we do this? I just pause and think "How can" we do this.

And so here I sit at 9:30PM at night, having once again, bent over backwards to take care of a client. The client (my client = internal staff, project manager) called in a panic with edits to a series of technical figures. He called at 5PM. The designer who created the files had left to pick up her son from day care and he needed edits made by 10PM tonight. What??? a 10PM client deadline? WTF?

But, I didn't question. I truly assume that when people contact you in a panic at 5PM with a 10PM deadline they have exhausted all options to push this until the morning. I tracked down the designer in her car, asked her to please log in from home and make the edits. She was good enough to do it. We worked together (through a couple of crashes, some bad handwriting on edits, and two totally unexplained marks that we had to track people down to explain) and were getting the last edits done at 9:30 when one of the team members IM'd me to say they were going to forward the file to the client without the figures since the edits weren't done and we could finish in the morning.

WHAT???????

We had an option for doing the edits in the morning?????

I'm feeling used and abused. And worse, I passed that along to the designer who is at home with a 5 year old and having to ignore his needs to take care of this.

I think I've learned this lesson before, and it hasn't stuck. Maybe this time?

Extreme Green

Ok - I stole this from Nicole's Blog 60 piggies...isn't this the coolest thing ever?



I cannot think of anything that I would love more than stepping out of my shower onto this bath mat. It's living moss! Especially now, in this neverending winter we are having. It's like summer shade in your house. It's the green roof technique brought inside!



Of course on the site that it was featured on, there were all kinds of naysayers - germs, dying moss, not right for homes with pets, etc. etc. etc. But hopefully the kinks will be worked out and it will be an option someday. My toes will be very excited.

Old Fashioned

I learned something new about teenagers recently. Many of them no longer know how to read or write in cursive!

In the computer era we have managed to completely obliterate the art of hand-written communication. While watching MK open her Bat Mitzvah loot, I was astonished that as she opened each card and we asked, "Who is it from MK? What did they write?" She repeatedly responded, (in a wail), "I don't know! I can't read it!" It wasn't that the handwriting was particularly hard to read, it was that it was written in cursive.

She can only read PRINT!

It's official. The age of email and text messages has taken us one step further toward being unable to communicate without technology.

I had come to terms with the fact that as the years go by I will receive fewer and fewer letters in the mail, and I will send fewer and fewer myself. Email and I are friends, and I'm a fast typist, so even when I was writing letters, I often typed them and printed from the computer. But I also appreciated the beauty of cursive and often selected a font that looked like handwriting to personalize my messages.

But no longer. Now I must print. In ugly block letters.

I predict soon all fonts will have to be sans serif - removing all remnants of artistry in case it actually makes it too difficult for our next generation to read. Italics will be permanently banned as totally unreadable. And forget seeing calligraphy on your wedding invitations any longer. It is already the norm to see computer address labels on them. Next you will receive e-vites with an rsvp to an email account.

In discussing this travesty with friends, they talked of how no generation in the future will find ribbon-bound letters in a trunk and be able to slowly read their grandparent's love story. Items like these will be relegated to museums and future generations will think- how odd it was to have to use a pen and paper to send messages. You'll need a PhD to interpret the beautiful cursive handwritten notes and museum display cases will include electronic translations of the message.

How strange life is. How quickly it moves.

So, bye-bye fountain pen.

Hello arthritic thumbs and texting.

Damn. I feel so old fashioned.

Hello, my name is Wenderina, and I'm a West Wing Junkie

As I look at that title, I suddenly realize the play on words. Since the the creator of this show, Aaron Sorkin, has had his difficulties with pharmaceuticals...but what I truly mean to portray is my love of this man's incredible writing.

Lately, I've been watching several episodes of West Wing a day. This happened by chance as I did not realize what setting the DVR to tape "All episodes on this channel in any time slot" would bring me. MANY many many episodes of the West Wing. I was a devotee of this series the entire time it was on the air, and was truly sorry to see it go. I felt there could have been a continuing series with a new administration, the actors they added only served to enhance and deepen the writing. But alas, there are those pesky ratings.

Granted, most episodes were extremely idealistic and spoke of a White House that actually operated with high-minded goals, integrity, and related mostly to those of us who lean to the left. But Aaron Sorkin's greatest moments were often when he presented the opposing arguments, introduced a conservative, a dissent, a new point of view that caused the lefties like me to pause a moment and either re-commit to our original position, engage in a healthy debate, or allow ourselves to realize there was possibly more than one way to meet a challenge. Aaron Sorkin introduced memorable characters who were proclaimed Republicans (the enemy) and in no way were they moderate. They were dedicated to the ideals of that party just as the Democrats were dedicated to theirs. Sometimes they (gasp) were given positions right there in the White House. But most significantly, they were dedicated and brilliant individuals.

The most memorable for me was the introduction of a Republican lawyer who lambasted the position of the current administration on Sunday morning talk shows - a beautiful blonde woman (now seen on CSI Miami, quite the intellectual step down) who found herself offered a job as a White House counsel. Her Republican friends sat around a table and laughed at the offer, ridiculed the Democrats, and insulted the administration. Far from joining in, this woman stopped and made a grand statement:



As Aaron Sorkin concluded the series, he determined the Democrats would once again win the next election, but he also positioned the losing Republican candidate as the next Secretary of State. Very pie in the sky. Who would believe that partisan politics could take the back seat to putting the best minds to work together in politics?

This weekend I was reminded of this and the feelings Aaron Sorkin inspired in me, and how he actually made me think that there could be some positive sides to politics, that there may be some people out there who actually live to serve the country, that there might be a better way of governing than what we experience in the dirty pages of the media. I was at a friend's home and they were discussing the country's obsession and almost blind euphoric worship of the new president. They are staunch supporters of him and his position, but they fear that this worship is unhealthy. Similarly, another blog I read posted something similar and found herself hosting comments that equally attacked her position or claimed to support it, but instead were actually virulently hateful of the new administration and their positions. I prefer to think of the new administration as a potential that Aaron Sorkin was more prophetic in his writing than idealistic.



But I also caution the world to temper their hope and admiration with a dose of reality. To believe that, as we saw in West Wing, holding too tightly to a single position without healthy debate and respect for the potential good ideas that can be posed by others is detrimental. And to know and understand that this president, like those who have gone before him, may fall down as often as he soars.

In the meantime, pick up some West Wing on cable or on DVD and enjoy the extraordinary human potential, the idealist views, the honorable debate, the struggle for answers to the world's toughest problems, and the inspiring writing behind it all.

Thank you Mr. Sorkin, and your excellent writing staff.

Shiksa in the Temple!

So - last week was THE Bat Mitzvah.





We arrived and got the word from my sister-in-law that we had a reading to do.


This. was. news. to. me.


Now I'm not shy about public speaking. Despite having avoided it for much of my earlier years, at some point something clicked in my brain, and now I couldn't care less. However, most of my speaking is in business environments where I know my topic, my environment, and my audience. A temple where people talk about...you know...God and stuff, is NOT my comfort zone. But I love my niece and decided to go with the flow.


The flow, however, did not include rehearsal, a program, or any other guidelines except a little crib sheet of what we were to say (English responses or translations of Hebrew phrases) and that we should listen for a part of the service where a specific phrase was said.


Been to a Bat Mitzvah lately? There is a book. You start on page 121 or some such and it goes for 2 hours.


TWO. WHOLE. HOURS.

Are we in the first 30 minutes, I wondered? the second? the end? No one could seem to answer me. The result was hubby and I were two of the most avid listeners in the joint that day... waiting with bated breath for the phrase to arise. We thought we had a general idea about it, but they occasionally skipped sections, or something that looked like a reading became a chant with repeating verse, etc. We were a little lost.


Finally the phrase was spoken and we dutifully rose, as if on a well-rehearsed cue, and made our way to the altar (is it an altar in temple?) See this picture below? This picture was taken on Thursday BEFORE the event. I can assure you that the Rabbi was not in attendance or I would not be touching the Torah....not a Shiksa like me!








I had reviwed the reading in advance with hubby and split the sections so that I minimized my "God" stuff. I tried to stick with phrases about spirit, humanity, community, etc. I don't think they would have liked me to go off script and say something about organized religion being the death of humanity and morality in the world.


Luckily, despite my non-believer status, the roof did not crash down upon us.


Thinking back upon my 13-year old self, I cannot imagine a greater torture than having to learn to read another language and then to conduct a service for two hours in front of family, friends, and relative strangers (or strange relatives) in that language. Yet MK took it all in stride. In fact, she reveled in it. Her Hebrew was nearly flawless and she was praised by all in attendance as having performed one of the most flawless Bat Mitzvah celebrations ever (this to the groans and exclamations of many 30-40 year olds in the audience who felt they were being maligned and discounted in the family memory for their less stellar performances.)



The day stretched before us in an unending observation and celebration of this special day. The reception was a cacophony of noise and sounds heightened by the screaming of 13-year old girls, the awkwardness of 13-year old boys, and the unique opportunity to sit among strangers who somehow are related to you and were grouped at your table by some interesting formula of 10.

If you've ever had the desire to return to your junior high school for one more dance...go to a Bar/Bat Mitzvah. Most of the same rules apply, except you no longer know the music (who are the Jonas Brothers and why do ALL the girls scream when they are mentioned?) and you need a little alcohol to get you on the dance floor at all.



All in all, the event was a success, and even when less than 24 hours later the proud and tearful parents who had delivered such moving speeches about their wonderful daughter, her strength and independence, her sense of right and wrong, and her grace under pressure dissolved into the typical parental screams of "MK - I don't CARE what you THINK! You will DO AS I SAY!!!", we all still remained friends in the end.


And the dress you say? Well, I went with the blue velvet because the theme of the evening was "BROADWAY", the star of the evening was a knock-out in a strapless gown, and god knows you need a little drama with that.

And to tell you the truth - just look at that darlin' girl...I can put all my religious misgivings, my fashion ineptness, and my musical tastes out of my mind, just to spend a day with that glowing smile.

Happy Birthday Dad

Today is my Dad's birthday. He would have been 83. I miss him every day, but the 6 years since he passed have gone by in a blur, and the new normal has set in. I've been wondering lately what he would think of the world today and trying to fill in his side of the conversation.



Dad, what do you think about this economy?
Save your money.


















Dad, isn't this just amazing, we have elected and sworn in the first black president of the United States.
Those boys have come a long way since I was a kid.














Dad, they just can't seem to find peace in the Middle East.
Wipe it off the face of the earth and forget about it.


Dad, I'm worried about keeping my job. No company can guarantee work anymore.
Work hard. Do your part. You can't do anything else...oh..except save your money.





Dad, what do you think of what's on tv these days?
Boob tube. Too much filth...too much blood and guts...I prefer a good Tom Clancy novel.


Dad, I just turned 42 and this is your 83rd birthday...how has this happened?
Beats the hell out of me kiddo.


Dad, I love you and miss you. I'm sorry if work and life kept me away from you too much in the later years of your life.
I love and miss you too and we all need to live our own lives. I'm proud of you and that hubby of yours. You did ok.

Fist-Bumps All Round

Everyone and their brother will be posting about the inauguration of our NEW president today. From the Chief Justice's faux pas in swearing him in, to the color of the new first lady's dress, and it will be extensively reported that President Obama was inspiring in his speech and how the greatest takeaway most of us could have was his encouragement to put away childish things (i.e., grow up) and take responsibility for our own actions. It will also be extensively reported that his daughters were adorable in J. Crew and gave him the thumbs up on his activities to date.

But what about poor Dubya? After eight excruciating years, he retires as the least popular president since the measurements began. I am glad that the cameras and microphones did not pick up the rampant boos which reporters claimed were a part of the crowds on the mall. It's classier to just tip our hats and say, "Goodbye, Mr. President" and be thankful his term of office is over and be hopeful we can recover from the mess we now inherit.

Here's hoping that we each find a way to take up our part to help our new president in the days ahead. Because while it is convenient to use the 43rd president as a scapegoat and blame him for most of our ills today, it is for sure that one man alone didn't take us here...and it's for sure that one man alone won't get us out.

Get ready America. The Obama's have come to town. It's time for ALL of us to serve.

In Flight

A small bird just flew in and landed on the seat across from me. INSIDE the airport. Might be better living arrangements than outside. We are in Newark after all.

Thinking of Dexter

In July we lost our pet of nearly 18 years, a little black kitty named Dexter (or C.K. Dexter Haven - from the Philadephia Story. I've been thinking of him a lot the last few weeks. I've stumbled on some pictures recently, and others that I know have recently lost pets and it brings the feeling back.

Hubby and I were always adamant that we not be called Dexter's Mom and Dad...I never really understood why people did that. But yet, he was a child of ours in many ways, totally dependent on us for his care and feeding, subject to our moods and whims, and a part of our emotional health.

They say that pets can lengthen your life, lower your blood pressure, reduce your stress, and provide you with comfort simply by allowing you to stroke their fur, walk them around the block, listen to them purr or snore. I believe it. After his death, our house felt so very very empty at first that it was almost unbearable. It actually no longer felt like a welcome place to be. It was uncomfortable and silent. You see, Dex was antisocial with everyone except us. With us, he couldn't get enough. He always wanted to be with us - he loved parking on my desk - often wrapping his body around my laptop, enjoying the heat from it and watching my fingers on the keys.

But time changes things, and you adjust to the new normal. I think over the past six months we have stopped seeing him in every shadow on the floor, stopped waiting for him to come around the corner, ceased feeling a phantom jumping on the bed when one of us moves a certain way. There are moments, however, when I just cannot believe that crazy animal is gone. When I walk in the door at night, I feel it. For nearly 18 years I would walk in and he would run to greet me, and my greeting to him would be, "Hello Monster." Because he was a monster in so many ways. A bit of a sociopath honestly. But he was our sociopath.

It's funny to realize that our little Dexter witnessed our early years of marriage, several apartments and homes, and all of the events of our 20's and our 30's, eventually seeing us both turn 40. Far from being just a bystander, they are witnesses and participants in our lives and help us mark the time on this earth. We see them grow older more rapidly than we do - almost as a precursor to our own aging, often facing illnesses that may bring more suffering than quality of life can bear. Would that someone would show us the humanity of helping us depart the world in dignity as we can help our pets when the cure is worse than the illness, or when the pain and suffering gets to be too much.

I miss Dexter. He was a good companion, and always a good source of anecdotes because of his crazy antics. I think we gave him a good home. I think he had a good life. I think he would understand and hopefully appreciate that we put him to sleep knowing his life had little joy and a lot of suffering. I wish we could have allowed him a death in his sleep at home, curled at the foot of our bed, warming his fur in a sunspot, but we didn't have control of that choice.

I've found myself checking out websites for shelters in our area...looking at cats that need a new home. I think we're almost ready to do this again. Maybe we'll even get two cats this time. One for each lap, one for each pair of feet, a duo that can keep one another company while we go about our human business.

This time, we'll have animals who will witness our 40's, 50's and maybe even as we turn 60. If they are like Dex, they will give us as much care as we give them - and will comfort us, quiet our stress, and make us laugh. They may even drive us a little crazy, destroy a few loved pieces of furniture or bedding, and frighten our guests. But they'll be OUR little monsters, just the same.

Color Correction

Another snowy Saturday, another two hours at the salon, a much better result. I got back in my regular chair (with owner) and she said, "This is way too dark and dull for you, right? Why didn't you come back right away?" Finally. Someone who gets me. No one else seemed to see the difference. Or maybe they were too polite to say, "damn, your hair looks awful."

Lesson in taking care of your loyal customers.At the end she took my photo to add to the webpage they are developing (Yes, I am that gorgeous...but the pictures may not be) and she didn't charge me for the color.

The result: Not only did I come home happy, I came home and populated three sites on the web with positive reviews of the salon.

Men may never understand that it is harder for a woman to change stylists/salons than it is to change gynecologists. A bad gyno appointment only lasts about 5 minutes, a bad hair style can last for months and the trauma for years.

Am I wrong?

THE Bat Mitzvah

My niece is 13.

This is a big enough deal for any girl - you know the whole teenage entry and stuff. But MK? she's been a teenager for years...all about the fashion, the boys, the phone calls, the texting and god knows, she has the teenage drama thing down cold.

Don't get me wrong. I love the girl dearly, but holy cats can she put on a show.

So here she is in her ideal place - the middle of the spotlight, in the starring role of her own life. Her Bat Mitzvah. THE Bat Mitzvah. And apparently, this is bigger than super sweet sixteen and a wedding all wrapped into one (at least for now).

When I turned 13? I had a slumber party. A few girlfriends arrived at my house at 6PM. We played games, watched tv, giggled incessantly, ate junk food - all in our comfy and somewhat ratty pj's. We were asleep by midnight. There was, of course, a breakfast the next day ( as I recall it was Apple Jacks and toast) and then they were gone, by 10AM.

Considering my inexperience in understanding the scale of THE Bat Mitzvah, can you blame me for thinking we should write a really big check? Turns out, that is not expected, which is good, cuz you know, there's a recession and all, but what IS expected is participation - major participation.

We will fly out for a week in San Francisco, a week full of events. We will stay in a local hotel and rent our own car. I have been informed that we must present ourselves in full dress on Thursday afternoon for formal family photography session. I have further been informed that we are to participate in the Thursday night dinner, the Friday night dinner, and Friday night temple. Then we are to present ourselves again at the temple at 8AM Saturday for more family pictures and then the actual Bat Mitzvah ceremony. Saturday night is the BIG party (and probably more photography)...think wedding reception style event - which has a Broadway Theater theme (drama, right?). Sunday AM? is the grandparent hosted brunch.

So last night I struggled with the question all cool protestant-reared Aunts of young Jewish women must contend with: What the hell is a Bat Mitzvah, and more importantly, what the hell do I wear? AND do I have shoes to go with it?

Last week I spoke with the birthday girl herself and she was on her way to get her "gown" fitted. It seems this is one of several special outfits she will have for the various activities around this weekend. Apparently it is strapless, shimmery, and quite the fashion statement. MK then asked if I had purchased my dress yet? "No," I informed her, "I'm not buying a new dress."

MK: "Oh." (read the disappointment and disapproval dripping from that one syllable.)

Wenderina: "I have a dress already I think will be fine."

MK: "Oh," as she tries to be supportive, "well what does it look like?"

Wenderina: "It's just a basic black dress."

no response

Wenderina: "Sleeveless."

no response

Wenderina: "Scoop neck."

no response

Wenderina: "Knee length."

no response

Wenderina; "It's a classic little black dress."

no response

Wenderina: "I really like it and it was such a great deal. It's Calvin Klein."

MK: "Oh! Sounds great!"

...yeah, it's like that with MK.

So needless to say, when I saw Coldwater Creek had a super sale going on, I scrolled through the catalog to see if there was something that might better meet MK's expectations. I ordered a blue velvet "gown" with a pleated back vent and a little rhinestone pin, etc. etc. etc. Much more "special" than the Calvin Klein, despite the lesser label. It arrived yesterday and I found myself trying this new dress on, then the little black dress, then a gold dress I had worn ONCE to a friends wedding...parading them all in front of Hubby with various pashminas, jewelry choices, and shoes...

I don't know why I'm kidding myself...or Hubby, for that matter.
The answer is right in front of me.

Of course I will take them ALL.

And seek MK's approval of the right one. Because you see, MK at 13 has more fashion sense and girl genes and proper sense of drama than this 40+ year old will ever have.

Happy New Year

So...somewhere after 12/31/08, I got a little lost. Suddenly it's like halfway through January 2009. Ok. So it isn't halfway. It's only January 7th, but DAMN, that week went fast.

This week has been that typical first full week after the November/December holiday season. Suddenly everyone remembers they work for a living, they have plans that have to be finalized, travel that needs to be scheduled, and everything MUST BE DONE RIGHT NOW.

I've spent the last three days on the phone ALL DAMN DAY. And while I've got my bluetooth going with one conference call, I'm answering emails, filing documents, and scheduling the next conference call all at the same time. My work day today began at 7:30AM and will not end until approximately 9PM (ah the joys of Global business and multinational time zones). This is actually pretty typical work week activity, but in the past 6 weeks I've managed to forget that since everything is different from the week before Thanksgiving through New Years.

I can honestly say I've done more work in the past three days than in the past three weeks. And you know what the best part is? I feel like I have a good job. A secure job. A job that MUST be done. After the last two months of budget angst, economic stress, layoffs, and other not so good holiday news, it feels, well, normal.

I told this to one of the execs earlier today - that after a couple of months of dread for 2009, I suddenly feel excited about it, and he said (over)confidently, "It's going to be a GOOD year."

"I hope so." I replied.

Then he said, "Just remember Hope is NOT a strategy."

Um. ok.

Anyways, thank God for the new year.

And fingers crossed I'm not just rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.

Last Year at This Time

We were hanging with my sister and my niece (and oh yeah the guys were there too) in DC-area.

Miss you guys!

Happy New Year!

Love,

us.

Egg Roll Mania

My hubby makes KICK ASS egg rolls. So much so, that I cannot bear to eat egg roll from any Chinese restaurant anywhere. I requested this delicacy for our New Year's Eve, and it is a treat considering there will only be four of us to dine...

Normally Hubby requires at least a party of 8 to make this yummy stuff up. But I'm not quite sure if it is an effort issue, a quantity issue, or just a fear that should he make it for just us we will gorge ourselves on these fattening fried scrumptious treats every week.

So here is a step-by-step for you to enjoy.
You start with our well-worn recipe book.

And you do a lot of shopping and chopping - the Asian food aisle was my friend tonight. The cutting board and good knives were hubby's.

Then you stir-fry it all together just right.

And store the filling overnight in the fridge.

This wok? It's not dirty...it's SEASONED.

Tomorrow I'll show you the finished product. And you will SO wish you were here.

I'm in iPod touch

Alternate titles for this post:
iPod touch myself
In Touch with my iPod
Don't iPod touch
---


So I'm joining the iPod generation...but Hubby did not just get me a little Nano or some older model iPod. No, I have the new iPod touch, which near as I can tell does everything but wash windows. I really just wanted something to play my music that was more portable than my laptop, but hey, I'm not complaining.

I have had iTunes on my laptop for a while - all the songs burned from CDs I already owned, so no licensing or purchasing needed. But now I have the itch...because not only can my new iPod touch play music, it can play TV shows! Movies! books! I need some free access to these kinds of files. I'll be checking out (no pun intended) my local library website later tonight...but I know there is more out there.

I've already raided my favorite NPR website for podcasts - another new one for me (I'm so behind) - but I'm looking for some ideas on other people's favorite podcast sites....any topic, any type will do...as long as it is FREE.

I'm not looking for licensing infringement, just honest sources of free content. If you have any ideas, let me know!

I have a 6.5 hour flight (each way) coming up in 2 weeks...I'm looking for some free and portable entertainment folks. Help me out.

Holiday Reflections

Well, another year of Christmas is over. It increasingly feels like a lot of build-up for a such a brief few moments of paper-tearing, rum ball-eating, and general merriment-making.

This year's holiday seemed quieter than usual. The gatherings were smaller, the presents were fewer, the decorations were less. With family spread far and wide, and most of the kids in the family well grown, we found ourselves alone with my mom and uncle this Christmas Day, with a few cousin visits scattered around to fill in the week.

When I was growing up, there always seemed to be lots of family and noise and activity at Christmastime. This may just be a child's view however - like when you remember your childhood home as huge and yet through your adult eyes it is much smaller than your memory. Because, truly, when I think about it I realize that we rarely, if ever, spent that holiday with my own grandparents, and my siblings were forbidden to attend by their mother (Dad's first wife) due to an acrimonious divorce, and 75% of my cousins were elsewhere as well...so where all the bustle came from I have no idea.

But it was never just four of us before...so, we will either continue to adjust to very small and quiet gatherings - or change up the equation to include different family and friends to gather a critical mass together next year.

I'm already conspiring with a favorite cousin for Thanksgiving 2009 at her house. Her home is bustling with family - and will definitely provide us with the opportunity for more socializing than a group of four surrounding a huge turkey. For Christmas 2009, I started floating the idea of switching our usual plans around. Since it takes some people longer than other (yes you Mom) to consider new plans, it's important to start NOW.

Next, I'll start to tackle the family gift giving activities. We got some awesome gifts this year...but our house is beginning to bust at the seams. And every time I go home, my mom has more and more heirlooms she wants me to have. I love having items of nostalgic value, but I have to make space for these items all the time. I'm hoping to institute some new ideas for next year - like giving people (and receiving) event gift certificates (services, theater, movies, dinner, hotel, B&B) rather than another thing to store or display.

Because really, we have everything we need...and more...and nearly everything we could want too.

So - in 2009, new traditions! new ideas! new budgets! new everything.

Happy New Year (almost)

Christmas Again...

It's that time again, eh....do it.

A Word from Venus

This past weekend I entered my regular salon for a routine higlight/lowlight visit. Because it was routine, I took the available stylist rather than waiting for a future date with my usual girl. When meeting this new stylist, I mentioned that I wanted a little more depth in the color. After two hours in her chair (why it took this long I have no idea, my hair is very short), she rinsed out my hair and removed the towel and to my surprise I realized my hair was now...cinnamon brown.

What. The. Hell.

Being the polite type, I kept my mouth shut. She did a horrible job of drying and styling - it looked like Sally Field from Steel Magnolias - you know the movie where her daughter references her hair as a brown football helmet?

When I finally told her I thought it was really dark she offered to spend another hour (which I did not have) adding more highlights. Instead I paid my $100 (ugh) and headed out for last minute Christmas shopping.

Let me just make a note here. Heading into the hell that is shopping the weekend before Christmas should NEVER follow a bad hair appointment. It was a disaster. No parking, icy parking lots, too many crazy people, long long long long cashier lines, etc. And every time I passed a mirror, my cinnamon hair gave me a jolt. Finally escaping the madness 5 hours later (2.5 of which were in line or looking for parking spaces), I stopped to pick up a sandwich and soda knowing Hubby was due to be out for his lodge dinner. I was looking forward to a few hours of total isolation.

But when I pulled into the driveway Hubby's car was there. My blood began to boil. I was totally out of patience and not fit for human consumption. I bundled up my packages and made my way into the house. Poor Hubby then became the target of all of my pent up frustration for the day. After stomping up to the bedroom with my takeout bag, I closed myself in for the evening.

Meanwhile back on Mars, Hubby was left scratching his head and reeling from the storm that just blew through the house. He retreated to the living room in horror.

A few days later, the storm was long gone, but I was talking on the phone to my Mom, preparing her for her first sighting of me as a brunette and Hubby overheard. He shouted up the stairway, "It's only a shade darker....Jeez."

We truly are from different planets.

A Question of Faith

I read a blurb on Meryl Streep recently where she was talking about faith...obviously tied to her new role in Doubt...that really spoke to me. She was able to put into words many of the thoughts I have had for the last several years.

"I've always been really, deeply interested in faith, because I think I can understand the solace that's available in the whole construct of religion," says the 59-year old actress [author's note - what the hell difference does it make how old she is?] who grew up Presbyterian. But despite being consumed with what she calls a "yearning for the ineffable, for real true certainty," Streeps has found little of that solace herself. "I really don't believe in the power of prayer, or things would have been avoided that have happened, that are awful. So it's a horrible position as an intelligent, emotional, yearning human being to sit outside of the available comfort there. But I just can't go there." So where does she find consolation in the face of aging and death? "Consolation? I'm not sure I have it. I have a belief, I guess, in the power of the aggregate human attempt. In love and hope and optimism - you know, the magic things that seem inexplicable."

The Week, Dec 26, 2008-Jan.9, 2009
As excerpted originally from article by Mick Brown in the London Daily Telegraph.

As a woman who really loves great words and phrases I'm struck dumb by her ability to express herself here. I really hope these are her true words and not a publicists well-crafted message. I find the sentence I kept returning to the most was "So it's a horrible position as an intelligent, emotional, yearning human being to sit outside the available comfort there." Those words captured my feelings exactly. And I just adore the phrase, "the power of the aggregate human attempt", which gave me a way to position my faith and hope in the human experience rather than the divine.

All that being said, I will return to church on December 24 for my annual pilgrimage and I will find I cannot contain the tears when my dear friend Cheri sings her solos of O Holy Night, Mary Did You Know, and the congregation and choir combine for the singing of Silent Night by candle light. And for just a few moments I will once again seek that solace and experience the "yearning for the ineffable".

Thank you Ms. Streep for your thoughtful words.

The Trickle Effect

TRICKLE def.
1. to flow or fall by drops, or in a small, gentle stream.
2. to come, go, or pass bit by bit, slowly, or irregularly
3. to cause to trickle.
4. a trickling flow or stream.
5. a small, slow, or irregular quantity of anything coming, going, or proceeding.

Trickle Down became a common term when paired with economics. In reviewing the definition above, I'd have to say I can see why that term came to be. I can certainly say that positive economic booms have had a small, slow, or irregular trend of coming, going, or proceeding in most of our lives.

However, current economic conditions need a new term.

DELUGE def.
1. A great flood.
2. Something that overwhelms as if by a great flood.
3. To overrun with water; inundate.
4. To overwhelm with a large number or amount; swamp.

Yup.

That's the way it feels today.

As I learned of yet another friend who has lost his job, I wonder when the flood will stop? Until then, I'll just keep treading water, and praying that the economy begins to trickle UP soon.

Overheard at Work

As always, my cubicle neighbor gives me plenty of moments of reflection...this is what I got to overhear today...

Judy: "oooh. damn. Michael?"

Michael: "Yes?"

Judy: "can you come raise me up?"

Micheal: "???"

Judy: "I'm in a hole."

Michael: "Oh...yeah..." Grunt grunt

Judy: "oh Michael, you're getting it"

Michael: Grunt Grunt

Judy:" There...there..no there...almost..."

Michael: Grunt Grunt

Judy: "Almost there...yes...yes...yes...oh Michael"

Michael: "whew, that was hard work."

Judy: "Did you hurt yourself...oh dear...let me see that."

Judy: "That's a big one....but thank you for your help."

Michael: "That's what I'm here for."

Judy: "Lovely. I'll probably need you again tomorrow!"

No lie. He was adjusting her chair. But you can see how sitting next door and hearing all this could be ... um ... amusing? ... disturbing? ... distracting? ... or all of the above.

Dear Virginia

Dear Virginia:

Yes there is a Santa Claus, but he took a beating on the Stock Market this fall so toys and gifts will be discontinued for this year and next.



He is also suffering from a lack of no universal healthcare. Therefore, he will not be risking his cholesterol with eating those cookies and whole milk as it could contribute to a health condition for which he has no coverage.

Also, since your parents are defaulting on their mortgage and also their homeowner's insurance, he feels it is unwise to climb on your roof or come down your chimney for a visit as he is not covered by workman's comp, and he can't afford to be out of work with an injury they cannot compensate him for.

For your little cousin George who is on his naughty list, Santa can't quite get his head around this clean coal idea and how that is supposed to affect his stocking contents, so don't count on George getting his just desserts.





Santa wishes he could appoint more of his elves to help in these times of need, but Santa has had a hard time getting the elves to work this year because they are spending an inordinant amount of time watching that hit series, "Little People Big World", which Santa admits is a heartwarming and fascinating reality tv series about a Little People couple and their Little and Big children and the challenges they face in the everyday world.


That pesky Rudolph is giving him trouble too, since the developing world has been paying him more money to power their internet connections and light their streets than he can pay for leading his sleigh. This has resulted in some dangerous flying in foggy weather.

And don't get Santa started on those other eight reindeer. They're eating him out of house and home and the price of corn and switchgrass since this whole biofuel movement has taken root is draining the last of his liquid assets.

Lately Santa has been trying to supplement his income with extra mall portrait sittings. It is not improving Santa's mood one bit...nor the moods of the children he meets.

Mrs. Claus sends her best to you, and hopes that your holidays are fine. She has recently completed her 9th elective plastic surgery and now looks like a cross between Joan Rivers and Nicole Kidman with a touch of Liza Minnelli for variety sake.

Mrs. Claus BEFORE:

Mrs. Claus AFTER

The bright side is Mrs. Claus has a new stream of revenue for the North Pole homestead now...ahem...the downside is she no longer feels it is her duty to make Santa eat his fill, so he looks like an emaciated scarecrow in his red suit.

All in all, Virginia, you probably want to write to someone else this Christmas. Santa has heard that Mr. Warren Buffett has only lost $16 billion and has a few billion left. Santa says there is a rumor Mr. Buffett is hearing proposals from enterprising youngsters like yourself at the local Dairy Queen.

Signed,
Wenderina

When You Know Your i-Tunes Reflect Your Personality

Well...my personality is...COMPLICATED.

Today as I surfed the internet and read blogs, and generally enjoyed some nonsense time with the computer I had my i-Tunes playing with volume on HIGH.

Editor's Note: I must be one of the last people in the world not to have an i-Pod, so the i-tunes are strictly a computer-host entertainment. I'm kind of locked to my desk.

Today, I had it on random play and it played these songs in sequence:

Styx: Mr. Roboto
Across the Universe Soundtrack: Blue Jay Way
U2: Original of the Species
Eric Clapton and Paul McCartney: Something
Elton John: Honky Cat
Ringo Starr: Honey Don't
Edwin McCain: See Off This Mountain
The Rolling Stones: Miss You
Billy Joel: Big Man on Mulberry Street
Billy Joel: I Go To Extremes
Dean Martin: I'm Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself A Letter
Norah Jones: Lonestar
Styx: Grand Illusion
The Cranberries: Waltzing Back
Sting: Englishman in New York
Edwin McCain: I Could Not Ask for More
Sting: Shape of My Heart
Harry Connick Jr: Where or When
Carly Simon: Give Me All Night
Frank Sinatra: Blue Skies
The Eagles: Peaceful Easy Feeling

Like I said...Complicated.

Top 10 Holiday Shopping Tips

Number 10. When possible shop with a buddy, and make it an event! Having a friend to chat with and to help carry bags makes the crowds easier to take. That was my plan today, but a regional ice storm had my friend stuck at home with closed roads and school for her kids.

Number 9. If you are a working woman like me, take a weekday off. The crowds are HALF what they are at night and on weekend. And the stores are usually much more organized and staffed with the full-timers who know about the sales and merchandise.

Number 8. Love thy neighbor...at the store that is. You'd be amazed what a shared smile or joke does to lighten the agony of waiting in the 10th line of the day. I gave out about 10 smiles today - and got one back in return for each effort.

Number 7. Books I say, Books! Since most bloggers I know are avid readers (and obviously writers) and surround themselves with others of that ilk, I recommend bookstores. There are so many deals to be had, and accessories are always a treat if the books don't appeal.

Number 6. STUFF TO DO! Most Americans today have too much stuff. And while I want to do my part to support the economy with my mad holiday shopping, I'm looking for restaurants, theaters, and activity spots as much, if not more, than regular stores. Why add clutter to someone's life? Add fun instead!

Number 5. God Bless the Internet. On-line shopping is such a dream...robust searchable databases for the most obscure items you can think of...what did we do without it?

Number 4. Pay Attention to that Junk Mail. I'm never good at this. But on two purchases today I got extra off because I actually read the sales flyers I normally just recycle that come to my house. $10 off any purchase over $100 at Target, Extra % off at Macy's before 12 Noon,

Number 3. COUPON CODES! I was about to press the "Purchase" button on Snapfish for my holiday cards, when I noticed a field at the bottom asking for a coupon code. On a whim, I went out to Google and searched for snapfish coupon codes. FOUND ONE! I inserted the code and Voila! 20% off! Sweet.

Number 2. Mid-Day Regroup. Go early and shop like a mad-woman. Then at mid-day, find a place to cop a squat, grab a bite, and review that list and your purchases. Take a breather. Appreciate your accomplishments. Rest your aching feet and back...maybe even drop off your bags in your car. Editor note: I take no responsibility for any potential theft from your vehicle. I had a smash and grab one holiday - not on a shopping day - and they got my gym bag and my briefcase. I was not a happy camper.

And the Number 1 Shopping Tip??? Always buy stuff that you covet.

Why? Because then as you go home and consult your list and find you have a few extras...you can pick some stuff out to keep. It makes the shopping much more fun!

I always pick up some extra gift cards too - for those EVERYONE stores, like Barnes & Noble, Target, Macy's etc. Then you've got them in your pocket for those times you run into an unexpected cousin or friend. And if the unexpected does not occur, it's like cash in your pocket for your next shopping trip. I actually had a few left from LAST CHRISTMAS that just helped fund THIS CHRISTMAS.

Happy Shopping!