LMNOP

Remember a million years ago when I told you I got a huge box in the mail with a tiny bit of quilt and a boatload (ok, boxload) of batting?

Also in that box was one of the funniest books I've read in a long time: Ella Minnow Pea, by Mark Dunne. Fun!

Creating Traditions

My brother came to visit over the weekend. He moved to Boston from Florida a few months ago, and made the trip to Upstate New York to hang out with his big sister. We had a lovely time; it was a nice treat as we had not seen each other in over a year.

While he was here, he asked me an interesting question about my blog. He wanted to know why it's called "G*d's Love" instead of "God's Love". Since I frequently write my creator's name as "G*d" or "G-d" in reverance, I was surprised. Funny how you assume everyone knows what you know (or how you forget that everyone doesn't how what you do).

In any case, it's from Jewish tradition. Not writing God's name is a way to honor
God and God's holiness. Kinda like Christians writing God's name with a capital G, versus when we write about one of the Hindu gods (little g) like Shiva.

Tradition is a powerful thing, and my sister has taught me a bit about creating one's own. Having more reverence with G-d is one I created for myself.

In Memoriam

It's been a year.

Dorothy Macklin Morgan

June 27, 1941 - June 20, 2006

Open wounds stop bleeding but they are often sore for a very long time.

Six Degrees To JK Rowling

Read this, then come back.

Now that you're back-
Grayson and I went to high school together in North Carolina and now she lives in the Netherlands. Her daughter, Meghan, is a teenager and has brain cancer. She cannot do chemo and has been told that she has only weeks to live. And note that Grayson indicates that Meghan will likely be unable to read the book herself on July 21. She already has double vision nearly all the time now, and well, July 21st is nearly 2 months away.

So, how can we make this happen for Meghan?

And yes, I'm serious.

I'm working on my college contacts. Surely librarians Bibliodiva and Lisa K can help with research? Is there a way to reach Ms. Rollins?

Any ideas?

And again, I couldn't be more serious.

What Kind of Cake Are You?

I, apparently, am a chocolate one. And I'm not cutting edge. A shocker, I know.

==

You Are a Chocolate Cake

Fun, comforting, and friendly. You are a true classic, and while you're not super cutting edge, you're high quality. People love your company - and have even been known to get addicted to you.

What Kind of Cake Are You?

Writer's Almanac

Yesterday my friend MHCKnitter sent me a link to this website. Read the poem "A Twice Named Family" by Traci Dant.

It starts:
I come from a family that twice names its own.
One name for the world.
One name for home.

Read it. Then come back and share your reaction.

I'll start:
I love how it ends. The ending especially, reminds me of my group of friends, and how they so easily mesh when I throw them all together. It also reminds me of my gf (who comes from a twice named family).

BTW, I tried to get permission to reprint it, it is being formally reprinted in a journal so Ms. Dant wasn't able to give permission for it to be reprinted any place else (including my little blog).

More Goodies

This is the card that accompanied today's birthday package (#3) from my super-cool, ultra-hip (ok, silly and fun and kind and thoughtful) younger sister. It made me laugh because it's funny in general, and because, hmm, it's so me.



Inside: "There's no one quite like you. Happy Birthday!"

Her written comments included this:
"...your unique perspective on the world makes you fun indeed..."

Unique perspective? Whatever could she mean?
(Did I already confess that when I was a kid,
I wanted to change my name to Jayne Dough?)


And here's what was in today's package:



And because I wanted to show how the Naughty and Nice Ducks flashed when they lit up:

It is real? Or is it Memorex?

Sometimes I like to look at what other blogspotters are up to. This one made me laugh out loud.

I can hardly talk about what other people find fascinating, but fake wood? Of course, maybe I can talk some of my friends into getting matching track jackets...

Birthday Ducks

Ok, so my sister is a nut. I love her, but she is a nut. How do I know, you ask? Because she sent me Teddy Bear pasta for my birthday. And because today I came home to find birthday package #2 from her. There were elegant little packages of bath confetti, salts, and beads.

And these:


They are called Naughty and Nice Ducks, BTW. And they light up! Actually, they flash.


Thank you, Nicole!

====

Oh, today was my second day at my second office. Pretty tame stuff, except that one of my patients, apparently unhappy with my decision to not reline her denture the day I delivered it (and I didn't even make it; the previous guy did), hit me. And no, I am not joking; she hit me. More like a swat, like a spanking.

I am over 40, and today I got a spanking.

Happy B-Day!

The cutest thing: my mobile phone rings, with a number that I do not recognize.
voice: "Sheree?"
me: "yep."
voice: "Hold on"
Then, the most amazing serenade ever: 3 year old twin nieces of my buddy Paula sang Happy Birthday to me. Sooooooo fun!

Here are the birthday gifts Bibliodiva sent. As for Hello Kitty, don't ask. It started in May 2001 and has blown up to rival Sasquatch.

I can't wait to dive into the candy. How fun. I love Pez, but this is cooler. Did you notice that the dispenser is animated?





Oh, and look at the calculator and compact. Hehe.






Oh, and check out the pasta from my sister.





I know, what does it say about me that these are the gifts I get when I turn 41?

Brown Boxes

I just got home from a weekend Down State to see the gf to find 2 boxes on my doorstep. One from Bibliodiva- birthday gifts. Horray! The other from MHCKnitter, who sent me her quilt to finish. Apparently, all it needs is a backing, and, hmm, to be quilted. I haven't quilted in a while so it'll be a fun project to work on. Besides, I still owe her after loosing a hat she knit for me. Here's the one she made to replace it.





I love my friends.

Me, L, and Don Imus

Last night I received a phone call from L, a lovely lady from my church who almost always calls to remind me when it's my Sunday to usher.

It is usually a perfunctory conversation:

"Hi, Sherry? This is L. I got you down for ushers on Sunday."
"Okey dokey. Thanks, L. I'll be there."
"'k, bye."


Last night she said more:

"You wrote that article in the Envoy*? About Imus?"
"Yes Ma'am"
"Well, it was good. I liked that Imus article you wrote."
"Thank you."
"'k, bye."

*our church's newsletter


I know I'm no Spring chicken, but this woman is old. Ok, not old like my maternal grandmother, but old. Like octogenarian old. And for some reason, that makes her compliment all the more meaningful.

Maybe cuz Larry (our minister) asked me to write it, and frankly, I struggled. It's not the best thing I've ever written, but it's not as bad I'd feared.

====


Why I Care About What Don Imus Said

I am a huge fan of college basketball. NCAA Tournament time is an especially fun time for me. I get to enjoy March Madness twice as I am a fan of both the men’s and women’s games.

This year, the NCAA Women’s Basketball championship game was between the Tennessee Volunteers and the Rutgers University Scarlet Knights.

The Lady Vols are coached by the winningest coach in US college history (men’s or women’s): Pat Summit. They are the stuff legends are made of, and formidable opponents. Few female basketball players would decline an invitation to play for Summit. As a result, the Lady Vols is less of a “local” team; the young women are from all over the country- the best of the best.

The Scarlet Knights, coached by C. Vivian Stringer, “flew under the radar” all season, consistently ranked in the top 20 in both the AP and Coaches polls. They are amazing basketball players- a back-to-basics team filled with players from working-class, urban New Jersey.

Shock jock Don Imus, in discussing the game, mentioned how “lady like” the Tennessee players were- they were pretty girls, with neatly coiffed hair, painted nails, etc.. This was in comparison to the Rutgers girls, who looked “rough.” They have tattoos and looked like they’d been playing basketball- mussed hair, sweaty, etc. In Imus’ words, they looked like “nappy-headed hos.”

The young women on these basketball teams are exactly that- young women- the same ages as our own Sarah** and Kelly Smith** and Freda Jones**. And no doubt, they have the same goals: to succeed. To use what resources that are available to them to do well in the world. Most are still teenagers, and only a few are at the age of majority.

And since when do we allow our young people fair game?

In my mind, this is not a matter of someone saying that the team did not play well. It was a personal assault, based on what these young women (on both teams) looked like.

Do we all judge people based on superficial attributes? Absolutely. Do we pretend it’s a good idea? Not a chance. We admit that we do it, but we also admit that it’s not a good thing.

But maybe we don’t really mean it. Maybe we actually think it’s ok to be unkind to each other. That it’s perfectly acceptable to call someone a nasty name. And if you don’t think it’s a bad thing to call someone a whore, then the next time you’re at the bank (or the grocery store or at church), say it to someone. Just walk up and say it.

Not in a million years would you do it. Not because you’re afraid of being slapped, but because it’s not appropriate. Period. It is simply not appropriate.

I could talk about the hundreds of reasons why Imus’ words are troubling- and talk about issues of race, gender, economic disparity, and the like. But I don’t think any of that really gets at the heart of the matter. The simple, sad truth is that Imus makes his living by hurling insults. And if that weren’t bad enough, he deliberately uses the most inflammatory rhetoric to achieve his goals.

What is wrong with us that we condone such behavior?
What is wrong with us that so many of us remain unmoved by what Imus said?

We allowed a 66 year old man to hurl insults at a group of teen-aged girls just trying to get an education and play a game they love. What does that say about us?

…”Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these among me, ye have done it unto me..” -Matthew 25:40

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**I changed their names cuz maybe they don't wanna be mentioned in my blog. It's bad enough that I put them in the church newsletter without asking them. I think this would probably be too much.

Good News

This evening I received a voicemail message thanking the nurse practitioner and I for our help. Nick is resting comfortably at a local hospital while his doctors run tests to determine what happened. Both he and his wife left the message.

He mentioned that when he "came to" he saw my face smiling down at him.

Geesh, can you imagine?
You come back and see my giant bowling ball head looking down at you?

I'm glad he's ok.

I am discombobulated. I slept fitfully last night.

And this morning: in a church pew, a nurse practitioner and I performed CPR on an 85 year old man who collapsed during the sermon. He "came back" but it was disquieting for us all.

Knee, or Just a Jerk?

I was asked to write an article discussing my opinion about Don Imus' remarks about the Rutgers Scarlet Knights. Mind you, I wasn't asked as a result of how vocal I'd been in my opinion, but because I'm a brown grrl. Now before you get your knickers in a twist, the asker is my minister. Larry is a middle class white guy, and I think his motivation had to do with our particular congregation and how they'd receive remarks from him. He's what some might call, hmm, a "knee jerk liberal." You know, the kind of guy who understands white and male privilege; the kind of person who understands how oppression against one group feeds oppression of another.

The congregation mostly "gets" this, I think. But sometimes, hearing something from someone besides Larry is good for them- even if they say exactly what he would've said.

Fast forward, then, to me writing about Imus. Surprisingly enough, most of my thoughts were not so much about racism, but about that this guy is 66 years old, and he picked on a group of accomplished athletes, most of whom aren't even 21. Gimme a break. How pathetic is that?

Exhausted

Ok, so not only do I have a great job, I have one that I'm fitting into pretty well. Of course, adjusting to the hours isn't so easy. In fact, the hours are kicking my behind.

I nearly fell asleep driving home this evening. Yesterday too. And Last Friday I came home from work and almost immediately I dozed off. And, I wanna tell you- I honest-to-goodness slept. So much so that when I called my sister to check in with her (she wasn't feeling well), I fell asleep while talking to her.

And to those of you who are rolling your eyes and thinking "what's new?": NO, this wasn't my usual "sheree says stupid things when she nods off" but "sheree woke up to hear her voice and realized she had no idea what she'd said." How horrible is that?

So, I think I gotta get more sleep. I'm gonna have dinner in a few minutes (it's 6.20pm), and plan to be in bed at 9pm. I'd go now but I'm afraid I'll wake up at 2am and not be able to get back to sleep.

====
As for the job itself: it's good! I'm settling in, finding my way. I think we might have even hired me an assistant! Woo-hoo!

Say What?!

Take a look at these.



How sad is my life?
When I was 2, I looked like Jim Belushi.
6 years ago I looked like Samuel L. Jackson. And I still do, I guess.

That's just wrong.

Of course, there is another way to look at this.
And let this serve as a warning to my friends:
I look like Mary Poppins, Laura Croft, and the Queen of Daytime TV.
Talk about superpowers!



And yeah, I'm amazed that 2 people actually showed up on both: Gabrielle Union and Rosario Dawson, although apparently I looked more like them when I was younger.

First Day, No Jitters

Today was fabulous. Ok, it was fine. The people were friendly and helpful, and they even let me have the day to "settle in." I did some hygiene exams, including a very cheerful 5 year old. Tomorrow will be a heavier load, if only because at least emergency patient is on my schedule. It'll take time to "build my practice," but I am both excited and hopeful.

Oh, and I ordered scrubs, some supplies, and a filing cabinet. My desk doesn't have any drawers and I wanted some. Some now I'm gonna have a lovely little faux woodgrain cabinet (2 drawers & 1 filing box) to match my faux woodgrain desk. All that, AND I got to start work an hour late. Wish me luck tomorrow, when I have to be there at my "regular" start time of 7am. And no, that's not a typo.

Vacation Redux

So the gf and I took our first "real" vacation together in February. The week of Valentine's Day, no less. We had a blast.

The Ship
BIG. Talk about a sea of humanity. I never got around to ice skating, although we did watch people climb the rock wall. Not my cup of tea, you understand... The pool was fun, even if all of Albany could fit into it. The "adult" pool was more to my liking: no kids, quieter grown-ups. And for some reason, no photos.




Belize City, Belize

The only place we "shopped," if you can call it that. No, we didn't shop at these places, but how fun they?


Costa Maya, Mexico

We were lazy, just went into the little touristy town. Pretty water.
Cool colors, huh? Maybe I'll convince Shirley to paint her house that color...



GeorgeTown, Grand Cayman

There is a neighborhood in GeorgeTown called Hell. You know we had to go! So now I can honestly say that I've been to Hell and back!



There are jewelry stores galore in the Caribbean. Imagine my surprise when the gf tells me that there's one store we just have to visit. Too funny! Can you see the price of those bracelets? $450?! Are they kidding me? I'll just stick to my Avon pendant!



Just for the record, we went to Cozumel, Mexico too, but we spent that day sitting on the beach. Guess who didn't take very many pictures?

Easter Sunday

printed in the church bulletin this morning:

"I believe that deep, life-changing Christian belief is based not upon arguments and reasons, but upon encounter with the risen Christ. We believe simply because he comes to us and gives us that which we cannot give ourselves- a reason to believe, a way to go on, a path out of doubt toward faith."

-The Reverend Wiliam H. Willimon