Belated Posting

I wrote this right after Rosh HaShanah and forgot to actually post it.....

I met an incredible two-year old this week. He’s a very blond, adventurous, fearless, ferociously smart, funny boy. He landed in DC three weeks ago and it must seem like some crazy combination of an alien planet and heaven to him. All sorts of new foods, a new language, new adults around him, cable television and lots of toys. He’s learning a lot and I’m sure teaching his mother a lot as well.

Actually, I’ve decided that she’s one of the bravest people I know. If you had asked me which of my friends were the among my bravest friends, I’m not sure who I would have put in the top five, but I’m honestly not sure I would have put Toby among them. Not that I’d have any good reason to exclude her, but I mean really, the woman doesn’t like bananas. That’s not very brave.

But after this weekend, she is absolutely number one on the list. And I’m not sure that there’s anyone between her and number 27. And I don’t know who 27 or 28 would be. (I think 29 would probably be someone I shouldn’t name publicly and who would kill me if they saw their name here – I am not that brave).

But back to Toby. First, she started the adoption process at all. The amount of paperwork, interviews, home studies and notarizations required is overwhelming. No sane person would do it. I think we may yet discover a correlation between bravery and insanity.

Then, on two different occasions, she had to travel to Russia, a country not known for being vegetarian-friendly, and at least once trip was on Aeroflot, you know the airline that use to have their smoking section on the left side of the plane and the non-smoking section on the right. Or maybe it was the other way around. In any case, on the first trip to Russia, she met a boy and had to make a decision. Yes, she knew she would have to make a decision, but knowing something is coming is nothing compared to actually having to do something about it.

And the second trip was three weeks long. And on that trip, her parents went with her. Three weeks with anyone in Russia under those stressful circumstances would have been a long time, but she also had to manage her parents during all of that. To give them a bit of credit (because I’ve met them and they are very nice people), they did offer to accompany Toby and Nate on the 18-hour train ride rather than take the two-hour flight to Moscow from their middle of no-where locale.

And then, all of the sudden and in Russian, she was decreed to be a mom. In my opinion, given the corruption in Russia, just trusting the judge was pretty brave. For all she knows, they could have also made her take home a few old statues of Lenin just to make more room in their storage facilities. If I were her, I would be wary of any large COD packages for at least the next few months.

Lastly, she let me babysit her new son. Of all the things, that’s probably the least brave, and since she chose to trust me, I did not teach him how to do “see-food”, or to say crazy things, or see how many crackers he could stuff in his mouth at one time. But Toby, for the record, next time, all bets are off.

Mimi's Straw

I'm working in DC this week. I brought a Nalgene with me, but forgot to bring a straw, and since it's got a wide mouth, I generally find that despite being an experienced drinker, I tend to get water all over myself.

So I said outloud from my cubicle, "I need a straw". Always helpful, Mimi said, "I have a straw" and she passed a green Starbucks straw over the partition.

I looked at the straw and said, "is it used". She said it was but that it had been washed.

Three days later and I'm still using the straw. The question is: who gets it next?

Triple Venti Skim Caramel Latte

I've been spending more time than I'd like to in Starbuck's over the last few weeks. For some reason, nearly every person I've met with in the last week believes it's the best place to meet. For the record, I'm not convinced it is. They don't have enough outlets. They look askance if you order a "medium coffee", and there's a lot of loud bean grinding going on.

And yet, this morning I'm in yet another Starbuck's waiting for yet another meeting. And it's fascinating to hear the drink orders. I have no idea what a Triple Venti Skim Caramel Latte is, or how expensive it was, but I sure hope it tastes good. And there's a a guy who just ordered something in a double-cup, no sleeve. He said something about it being a waste of paper. Huh?

Operation Bi Bim Bop

I decided last week that I needed to make Bi Bim Bop. This decision was prompted by the desire to eat Bi Bim Bop. Plus, I just like saying it.

It's easy enough to google it and find out what I'm talking about, but if you're feeling lazy, basically it's a bowl of rice with vegetables, meat (not in my case) and a fried egg on top that's then served with Sriracha sauce. I'm sure there's a proper way to make the rice and probably a recommended group of vegetables, but I don't think it really matters. I do think it matters that the vegetables are all put on the rice separately - in otherwords, no mixing them all together to cook. And it all tastes much better if it's made in a heavy stone or cast-iron bowl so the rice can get crispy. We have ceramic and glass bowls which don't get the rice crispy, but they do make for a nice presentation.

We had brown rice, so that's what I used. I steamed carrots, sauteed mushrooms, fake meat and cucumber (yes, cucumber) and of course, all separately, and then added sprouts. Spinach probably would have been good too, but I forgot I had any until after the fact. I fried up an egg (you have to leave the yolk runny) added a serious amount of hot sauce (Sriracha is mildly addictive).

Yum.

Note to Self

Before buying an 18 pound watermelon - check to see if husband will eat any.

What I Learned Last Week

I learned an unexpected lesson last week. I learned that it is possible to eat too much macaroni and cheese. If someone would have asked me two weeks ago if it was possible, I would have said that theoretically, it might be possible but that I couldn't realistically understand how it could be done.

And then we spent last week at camp - at a camp with good food. The dairy meals were excellent and the vegetarian options during the meat meals were pretty good too. And the best part was that they served mac 'n cheese twice during my five days there. The first time it was excellent. I've never thought of mac 'n cheese as being flawless, but this was. They clearly started with a roux, and while I have no idea what they did next, I'm pretty sure it included really good cheese. The second time it was very good, but not excellent. I think I ate too much in the pursuit of finding an excellent portion. I did not. But I did learn an unexpected lesson.

The Front of the Plane

When I fly internationally, I always sit in coach. It's never been an option to move into business class. I've been lucky the last few flights to even have a window seat.

And when I fly domestically, it's usually from the Midwest to somewhere on the East Coast. Nothing usually more than about 90 minutes or so. And then, really, you can sit anywhere in the plane. I hate sitting in the back because I don't have the patience to wait for everyone else to get off, but really, you can sit anywhere for less than two hours, even squished in a middle seat between two sumo wrestlers.

Lately though, I've been trying to work down my AirTran credits. I flew a lot last year, almost all on AirTran and my credits are starting to expire. It only takes four credits to upgrade to business class and I think I've done that for most of my last five or six flights. It's a little bit of a waste for a short flight, but it's use them or lose them, and I figure they were given to me to use.

So what I've learned is that while I can definitely sit in coach and have no issues doing so, it's still nicer to sit in business class. The biggest differences - a bigger tray table and enough space so that you can use a computer or do some writing without sticking your elbows into the person next to you. There's probably even more leg room, but I'm short and how much leg room can a short person use?! The other good part is that there is a bathroom up front that is theoretically reserved for the 12 people sitting in the front of the plane. I'm fairly certain it is no larger than the one in the back of the plane for the other 126 people, but the idea that it's more available is a nice one.

Alas, AirTran flies from Chicago but not directly to any of the places I generally need to go. I need two more round-trips before April to get another year's worth of Elite status, which is nice to have even if I can't use it, so I'm sure I'll take at least another two trips. The question will be whether I still have enough credits left to sit in the front of the plane....

Psychological Testing at Midway Airport

I was put through an arduous experiment last week at Midway Airport that was designed to measure anxiety levels. Strangely, no one ever asked me to sign a human testing waiver.

First, at 9am on a Friday morning, the security lines were as long as I've ever seen them. And the distinctions between the Family, Casual Traveler, and Business lanes were non-existant. But the Business lane was on the right and I didn't see quite as many families in line, so I took my chances there. It didn't matter. It still took me 15 minutes for anyone to even look at my ID.

And then it's the great guessing game - which magnometer line to enter. There were too many families in most of the lines - and that always means it takes longer. Most of the lines seemed to have about 10 people waiting, which isn't horrible, just annoying. And I'm not sure why, but usually the lines on the right side of the security set up at Midway are actually faster. So I went to the right.

We were all the way against the wall and it was taking a very long time to even approach the main line of machines. Something seemed wrong. When we got to the corner of the wall, the experiment became clear. We were not being directed into the machines on the right side of the security set-up, we were being sent to the machines in the way far away right side. Seriously, there was an entire TSA conference room in between the machines that were not being used and where we were headed. There were a good 60 -75 people in line in front of me.

I remain fairly certain that the 20 minutes it took us to get to the magnometer was a sick psychological experiment designed to make us crazy. That, and the people who were in line so long they risked missing their flights and so thought it was okay to cut in front of the rest of us. It was okay, because they shouldn't have to miss their flights, but the line should not have been so long as to put any of us in that situation to begin with.

Needless to say, everyone's anxiety level was higher than the security threat levels. Way beyond orange, that's for sure.

And, by the time I got through the whole line, no one asked me to sign a waiver. I'm pretty sure there's a law against this!

I Want a Lake House

I'm in Michigan spending the weekend at a friend's lake house. It's small, furnished and decorated many, many years ago, and most importantly, just sitting on the shores of a small lake.

I want one of these. Not here, but somewhere closer to where I live, where I can drive far enough to feel far away and close enough that I won't be annoyed to get in the car to drive somewhere. (Even though to get here today took 75 minutes on the El, 2 hours waiting at Midway, 37 minutes in the air, 20 minutes waiting to be picked up and then another 75 minutes driving out here.)

There's nothing to do out here unless you like swimming or boating or sitting in the sun. Fortunately, I like reading, which technically can be done anywhere, but is particularly nice when sitting along a lake. I'm sure it will also be nice tomorrow perhaps sitting on the dock or in a boat. But it will probably be nicest sitting in the shade.

The Button on my Box Won't Work

The title here is for a friend who, when I said this, told me that I could write lesbian porn with that line. For the record, what follows is not lesbian porn.

I finally stopped working around 6pm tonight and decided to finally read the morning's paper, eat dinner, and do it all in front of the television. Now, keep in mind that while we've had cable for a week, I've maybe watched all of 2 hours of television in the last six days. And I think it was mostly on the Food Network Tuesday night. (The LOST episode of Ace of Cakes and Chopped, if you were curious.)

So I sit down with the paper and my dinner and hit the "all on" power button on the remote control. The television goes on and I realize it's the Home Shopping Network. This in itself was strange because it certainly wasn't the last channel I watched, but I figured, maybe I hit some random button when I turned everything off the last time.

And then I realize that the actual cable box isn't on since the "power" light is still red, and not the blue it should be when it is on. (I almost wrote 'turned on', but I don't want to be accused of writing sordid tales.) So I press the cable button and then power. Nothing. I try this three more times. Nothing. I change the batteries in the remote control. Nothing.

All I have is the Home Shopping Network and they are selling non-down comforters made of Egyptian cotten and have a 440 thread count that really feels more like 5 or 600. And evidently they are soft enough to use without a duvet and they can be thrown in your home washer and dryer. I did find a second station that was broadcasting in Spanish. This may have been more interesting if I understood any of it.

So I got up to look at the cable box. It's actually not a cable box, it's a dvr. It's a big, shiny, silver box that has one small black panel in front with the word power that either lights up in red (off) or blue (on). The light is clearly red. I notice that there are no panels to open on the box, nor are there any buttons.

I feel like I've entered the robot-built space ship on I, Robot (a must-read if you haven't, or a re-read if you've haven't in a long time). There are no buttons on my box. It is, just a box.

So I call the cable company. After wading through voice-mail hell and then being on hold for 10 minutes, I finally reach a human being. But not a trained customer service representative. Ultimately, he tells me I can either exchange my remote control or have a technician come out. I opt for plan B. At which point I get disconnected.

Seriously?! Yes, it's true. So I call back, wade through voice-mail hell again, and am on hold for another 10 minutes and this time speak with a woman who at least hears how frustrated I am. We have a technician coming out tomorrow afternoon and she credited our account for the time we are without cable. And if I call back tomorrow, they'll credit me another day.

Post script: Ronnie got home and turned on the television. He also got the Home Shopping Network but by now they were on to selling make-up remover which I don't need (and neither does he). But he started playing with the television remote and realizes that if you punch in station numbers (as opposed to use the channel up and down buttons), we have access to cable stations. The only station number I've learned so far is Versus (75) because they are broadcasting the Tour de France. We found the channel just as Andy Schleck was beginning his time trial.

Starbucks

I'm really amazed at how much people spend on coffee drinks. For a variety of reasons, I'm working from Starbucks today. I brought in my own mug and got plain coffee.

It's a small shop, but consistantly busy this morning, and all sorts of people are walking in and ordering so many different kinds of drinks I can't figure out how they learned to order them.

They are also offering extra shots of espresso in drinks today, I'm not sure why, so listening to the staff call out the drinks has been a whole education as well.

And, they are raking in the cash. My drink was less than $2, and because I'm using my Starbucks card I get free refills (although I have yet to test that theory). But everyone else is spending a lot of money - the largest size macchiato (I have no idea what that is) is $4, and that's just the plain one. I've heard a lot of those coming through the line so far this morning.

And, if I didn't have so much work to get done, I'd be able to focus more on the people-watching.

And it's not even 7:30am!

I just set up our wireless network. It's actually fairly simple, but if you don't know how to do it, it doesn't matter whether it's simple or not. And, as a reward for setting it up, it works.

This means I can work from home and not jump from Panera to Starbucks, back to Panera and then to the laundromat (yes, the laundromat around the corner from us boasts wireless access).

Our cable television is also now working. To be fair, all I had to do was let Bernard into the house - I didn't actually have to set that up! I have probably not watched television in any kind of intentional way in almost two months. Maybe more. Without LOST, there's really no point, anyway.

But... the Tour de France is on, and that is my sport of choice. And save for about 45 minutes at a friends house the other day, I've seen none of the coverage. So if you call this week and we don't answer, we're watching le Tour.

My Laptop

My work computer is a relatively new laptop. Two weeks ago, I found the blue screen of death, shut my computer down and it then refused to boot back up.

Thankfully, I was headed to DC the next week and the folks in IT worked their magic and now my computer works. Except when it doesn't.

It turns out that they fixed my hard drive but had been testing random batteries and left me with one that has no life. Literally. If I unplug my power cord, I have 5 minutes of life before everything shuts down. Before, I had 2+ hours. Needless to say, this makes access to outlets imperative at a coffeeshop.

We're having cable and internet installed in our new place tomorrow. Until now, we've been borrowing wireless access from our neighbor, Kevin. We've never met Kevin, and truth be told, we don't know if Kevin is his name, his dog's name, or the name of their favorite band. We're not picky though and as long as Kevin allows his network to be shared, we're happy. Until we're not.

Last night and today, Kevin's network is visible but not accessible. I'm not sure what we did to offend him, nor do I know how to find him were I want to apologize (which I am not, just for the record). But it has made working from home more difficult than anticipated.

So this morning I went to a coffee shop to get some work done. I plugged in (again, access to an outlet is still an imperative) and got nothing. Well, that's not exactly true. I got a message that said there was nothing available to boot up. It had been working just fine several hours before and I couldn't believe that the IT magic was already losing it's shine.

I rebooted. Nothing. I rebooted again. Nothing. Not even the blue screen of death. Nothing. Just a message that said I was SOL.

So I unplugged my computer, put the cord in my backpack and started to put the laptop in it's padded compartment. Where it hit something at the bottom. The only think I ever keep in that section is the laptop, so I couldn't figure out how I had that drastically misplaced my phone charger or sun glasses. But you never know, so I reached my hand into the padded section and pulled out... the hard drive.

Yes, the hard drive had fallen out of my laptop. Which meant that the message I'd received about having nothing to boot up, was actually correct. Who knew?!

And now things are working fine, in case you were wondering.

Obstructed View

Fireworks tonight began at 9:15 at the lake front. So at 8:30 or so, we set out for the beach. We were clearly not the only ones with that idea. There were hundreds of people streaming east. At least we knew we were going the right direction!

We got to the park and decided walk two more blocks up to the beach. There were people with blankets and chairs set up all the way to the water. And there were a good number of boats in the water. There's the tiniest of boardwalks that runs from the street to the water, and we decided to find a place to sit there rather than the sand. Again, we were clearly not the only ones with that idea.

By 9:25 the fireworks started and from the first blast, we knew we were in trouble. There was a tree line between us and the beach where the fireworks were being launched. The bursts went mostly over the trees, but not the huge, very tall tree that was in the middle. So mainly we saw funky colors behind the enormous tree, heard the booms, and occasionally saw the higher bursts or the ones that were just a little to the left or right of the biggest tree. Almost all of us had the same problem, so at least we didn't feel dumb individually...

Waiting for Kenny Y.

I put an ad on craigslist today to get rid of our wardrobe boxes and whatever other boxes we managed to empty. I've gotten 18 or so calls. The first one said he'd pick boxes up at 5:30pm. He said he's shipping off to Iraq for two years in an administrative position but he needs boxes for him and his younger "boys".

He just left with two wardrobe boxes, about 60 smaller boxes, and 6 large bags of packing material. His name is Kenny. He is tall and bald and when I asked what branch of the service he's in he said, "the marines... the only real branch."

When I met him at the front door he said he'd just been putting in a playground at a synagogue. I never would have pegged him as a member of the tribe, but as it turns out, he's got dual citizenship with Israel and is also a colonel in the Israeli army.

Ten minutes of chatting as we loaded boxes, part of a life story, and he drove off...

Packing (and unpacking) should be a four-letter word

If for no other reason, I will never move again. Forget that I have already made that promise to my husband - I will never move again.

IF.... you have a month to leisurely pack and go through things and make sure you don't actually bring things that you haven't used in the last 10 years but who knows, you might want tomorrow, then packing probably isn't so bad. And even if you do decide to bring things that are still in their original packaging from many, many years ago that you (or someone you live with) thought you absolutely needed and couldn't live without but clearly you could, unpacking them and figuring out where they go is a problem.

Enough said.

Summer in Milwaukee

We're known for our summers here in Milwaukee. Everyone is outside, all the time. Biking, walking, going to Summerfest, playing volleyball on the beach, going to festivals - it's just a really nice time to live in Milwaukee.

But today, not so much. It's raining, which does happen sometimes, but it's also in the low 60s, which is just not acceptable weather when it's also raining at the end of June. And since we are moving, we have packed every coat, jacket and long sleeve shirt because, hey - it's summer in Milwaukee, we won't need those things until Labor Day weekend.

Evidently I was wrong....

The Perils of Packing

There are oft unreported perils of packing. We all know about the strained muscles from lifting and bending. We know that the metal thing that tears the tape off the role is sharper than it needs to be. And we always remember just a little too late that boxes really shouldn't be stacked more than three boxes high.

No, I'm talking about the peril of discovering a previously unknown hoarding disorder. And the problem is I'm not sure if it's my disorder or Ronnie's, although I'm pretty confident I could make a good guess.

I've just packed three boxes of bathroom stuff. I thought I would fill one box and was surprised when I needed most of a second. Then I remembered we have a 2nd bathroom complete with it's own closet. (I didn't forget we had the second bathroom, I just don't generally pay attention to the closet.)

We have a lot of Q-tips. And a lot of tubes of toothpaste. And so much dental floss that we could probably make enough ropes to help dozens of prisoners escape their lot. Maybe even a score of prisoners. Yes, I found that much dental floss. We have half a dozen Ace bandages. We also have a lot of bandaids, but it doesn't look as overwhelming as it did because I stuffed a lot of them into just one box. We have enough Cold-eez to help a small town get over their colds.

There were also two blow dryers. I think the last time I blew my hair dry was 10 years ago. Seriously. There were three large sun screens (all different brands and SPFs), four large moisterizers (all different brands, all unscented), and a dozen bars of Lever soap (again, Costco).

We will have two bathrooms in the new place, but only a small linen closet. It's going to be interesting to see where we store things and what we forget about when we finish the current tube of toothpaste or the last inch of dental floss....

It's too hot.

It's too hot.

Last summer, Milwaukee never hit 90 degrees. Now we're in it two days in a row. It's hard to concentrate, and even my poor laptop is feeling the effects. The internal fan is running way too often. In fact, today I went to the public library to work. I got there about 1:30pm and was very clearly not the only person who had that idea.

Plus, the heat and constant sweating makes packing difficult. As if I wasn't sweating enough, now I've got to do physical labor?

Tomorrow might be a tiny bit better. They're predicting a high of 86. My hope is that 6 degrees will make a huge difference. Or at least I'll pretend that it does.

The Man at My Table

The last few days, I've walked to the coffee shop and there's been a man sitting at my table. Which means I have to sit somewhere else. And I know better than to sit at someone else's table, so at least two of the past several days I've wound up at the tilted table. The legs are fine and it doesn't wobble, but the top is on crooked. It's too hard to read the paper. It just doesn't feel right. Plus, I'd rather sit at a square table than a round table....

But this morning, I got there at 5:40am, just 10 minutes after they open. One of the other regulars was already there. My table was empty. People slowly filed in over the next 20 minutes and then, he was there. The man who has routinely been taking over my regular space. He arrived at 6:00am and left at 6:30am. He started to sit at the tilted table, and then moved. See, even interlopers like him don't like that table.

I'm pretty sure he was wondering who was sitting at his table....