Holidays are upon me...cannot excape...

Each year brings less enthusiasm, less time, less interest on my part to participate in the Christmas hubbub. This year I have accomplished a new personal best. No cards; have not even tried to find the boxes of cards I always buy on sale in January and squirrel away for the next season. What the haps?
I want only to be a funnel, for nice interesting gifts that come to me; I rejoice in re-gifting them.
I enjoy other people's trees.

Las Vegas Ladies

Back from my first trip to Las Vegas. Something to say about the people who stand along the sidewalk in groups, and snap cards, slapping them against the huge pile in one hand, offering a naughty naked lady card to passersby. The first group I walked past did not offer me any; why would they, no-one was taking the cards. Then I got the idea that it would be a generous gesture to take some of their cards. That way they could get rid of them, which is the point, I think. And I would keep them long enough to put into the recycle bin at home. Free stuff, free fun...a good deed.

Someone pays them to hand them out. No foul there, everybody has to make a living. So next group I passed I stuck my hand out and took as many as they could shove at me, saying thank you, thank you, and lastly, thank you very much. I did this a couple more times as I passed other groups of men and women holding enormous piles of these cards. Naughty, half naked ladies; Las Vegas Ladies for various prices. Introductions guaranteed.

I heard a little sniff and a comment behind me one of these times, so I just turned and said I thought I'd help them out and take a few. Lady behind me did not get it. Oh well. Maybe I'm a lesbo. Or maybe I feel sorry of the maybenotlegal immigrants and the tedious job of pressing these cards into the hands of passersby. It was amusing.

When I got home I had collected 60-70 cards with very few duplicates. The prices on the back of each card included a price for 1, 2, or 3 girls. One card said "Lydia - she is a real girl" Not sure what the others could be. And strangely enough they all had little twinkling stars in strategic places. Word!

Las Tres Amigas

So much to say and then really nothing that can be said about this brief moment. Rave came back for a few hours; just long enough to get cleaned up and loved up. Then she got watered, well fed and was sleeping all sprawled out on the floor. Just as sweet and innocent as when she left.

So why is she digging out of her new yard? The new owner does not seem to be able to keep track of her and won't let her in the house. We were called to come get her by someone who found her running loose. So we did and checked her out and called the new owner and said to call us because we had Rave and she had run away again, and we wanted to talk about placing her somewhere else.

Later that night the Sunnyvale cops banged on our door. They banged loudly and rang the bell like they do when they think you are a criminal. They took Rave away from us and gave her back to her new owner, who had somehow convinced them that WE HAD STOLEN RAVE FROM HER YARD!

Unfortunate. Unbearably sad for us. We wanted Rave to have a good new home and it seemed that we had found someone who really wanted a dog for her son and had a big fenced in yard.

But now, we want her back. I'm sick about the whole affair. I even offered a couple hundred dollars to buy Rave back. Even if it seemed like ransom. The new owner gave my daughter a few dollars and we gave her Rave and all the expensive doggy equipment to take care of her. Because we just wanted her to have a good loving home and the attention she needs.

Now, I just want another chance to place her with someone who will take better care of her. I fear for her safety. The breeder also wants her back. We pray that Rave will dig out again soon and somehow be found by someone who will get back in touch with us or the breeder so we can find her a better home. Since her new owner cannot be reasoned with, I depend on Rave to do her thing. She is smart and she will find her way to a better home one way or another.

We are looking for her at shelters and on Craigslist. The cops told us we cannot go anywhere near her new home, since they believe we are trying to steal her. I believe everyone will get what they deserve in the end. Just a matter of time, so hang on Rave and dig out soon! Run away Rave and we will come find you.

Horse Therapy

"Equine Facilitated Psychotherapy" at Taylor Made Farms, San Martin, CA, just south of Morgan Hill. I'll be there one day each week for the foreseeable future. Horse Therapy flickr set.

See: NAHRA - "North American Riding for the Handicapped Association"

EFMHA - "Equine Facilitated Mental Health Association"

For lonely horses. For CASA volunteers.

The pumpkin patches are therapeutic, the cornfields are therapeutic, the boarding stable with 100+ horses is therapeutic. Everything except the commute back home in rush-hour traffic is therapeutic, for me.

This is part of my life now, so in a real sense, it is all about me. But I wonder how much am I getting into MBP syndrome?

I will ask Dr. Low.

Stay tuned.

Yes - I said Vegas!

I've got a room at the SAHARA for 4 nights in November. Next conference to support the Webmaster business model. PUBCON, sponsored by WebMasterWorld.

All organic, mostly green...emphasis on coding and content. The geeky side of an industry that has been taken over by Sales and Marketeers. Bless their pointy little heads. They have brought the mega bucks into E-commerce.

Started gambling early; let PriceLine find me a *** hotel. I booked so late...just a week ago, not much left close to the convention center. It will be an adventure. And my version of continuing education. And not the least draw...home of CSI. The original and some say the only CSI.

CSI - Las Vegas

CSI LasVegas weekend.

Not me; C went with friends. No job for her yet. I have a job.

All I got from her trip was this crummy coffee mug, and a screen saver.

So I will savor the sights until my trip to Las Vegas, planned for November.

Actually, I love the mug. And C as well, living outside the box.

Moving on out, to a shared house in San Jose.

LLUXE! - My new Etsy store for Spa therapy products

Circumstances permitting, I plan to sell my house and move to the Oregon coast. One of the legs supporting this move is my newly developed product line of handmade Lavender Luxury Spa Products for hot/cold therapy and aromatherapy. "LLUXE!"

I set up an Etsy shop: LLUXE! - Lavender Luxury Spa Therapy by IrisDragon

All made from sensuous silk-blend brocade fabrics in various weights.
Here is a Flickr set of product shots: LLUXE!

So far, I've given away many samples to friends, and they in turn have helped me make refinements and enhancements. I'm ready to sell the established line of products, if anyone wants to buy them. I started pricing them very low, almost at cost. I sold one on EBAY, but the profit margin was just one dollar. They are expensive to ship because the rice is heavy.

I have many fabrics and colors; many sewed and ready to fill to order. I purchased incredibly fragrant bulk lavender flowers from Watsonville. Is there a business model here? I'm pushing the price higher and higher. Looking for folks with disposable income and mega$$$ who enjoy luxury and appreciate unique, handmade, sensuous products. Where are you Oprah?
Stay tuned!

So now we cry

Be careful what you wish for. My friend Jan often warned me about that. My house is quiet and peaceful. There is a chance that it will still be clean tomorrow. There is no reason not to get a good night's sleep tonight. Rave is sleeping over at her new owner's house. And now we cry ourselves to sleep.

8ULL$H!7

This is what the video Ipod was made for:

http://video.google.com/videosearch?q=penn+and+teller


Penn and Teller

Question Authority!

Happy, happy, joy, joy!

This post is about John Kricfalusi and the "happy happy joy joy" song from the "Ren & Stimpy" show. I sing it because my teen aged daughter is looking for a place to live. It is possible I may get my life back soon, if she succeeds in moving out. I will help her. Oh yes, I will gladly help her!

I love her but we are going in opposite directions. She and I do not make good house mates. Yahoo! off she goes! I will miss her but that will feel good. I will be so happy to see her when she comes to visit! That will feel good.

John has an excellent blog. I knew I loved Ren and Stimpy from the first time I saw the cartoon and literally ROFLOL'd. Partly because I was living with a neurotic chihuahua, who peed inside my stereo cabinet and bit me when I tried to save him from being eaten by large ferocious Real Dog.

(more about FrogHopper)

Sleeping with my clothes on

In order to remain sane. I have taken on PJs. Not my preferred flimsy gowns or diaphanous negligees, but substantial cotton lounging pants and sport weight T shirts. There are two reasons.

One: The dog often needs to get walked between 12-1 AM, when I am in my deepest sleep. It seems I am capable of rolling out of bed, creeping downstairs, and exploding out the front door with the dog in tow, or the dog towing me.

But only if I am already dressed and ready for public viewing.

Two: my daughter's boyfriend is sleeping over most nights and I should not be sprawled on the bed with my door open...which is my usual sleeping scenario.

Now I sprawl with a light cover, and fall into bed as if I were camping. Only time I used to sleep in my clothes was camping, enabling me to crawl out of the tent and stumble through the dark to the designated tree or nearby loo.

Website Usability Review and SEO Audit

*:-:¦:-·:*Website Usability Review and SEO Audit*:-:¦:-·:*

posted on Craigslist:

"Does your Website need attention? I'll audit your site first for Usability issues, and then for Search Engine Optimization. I'll examine your site's Information Architecture and coding. The product you will receive is a report with general advice and specific recommendations.

I charge $50/hour, minimum $100.00 per site. We can talk SEM in general terms. I'm building a portfolio of successfully transformed customer sites, so my rate is low right now. My audit is neutral, objective, and based on the most current info and established best practices. I take a very green, natural, thoughtful approach.

Why hire me? I am an experienced "bug magnet"! I have no agenda other than improving your Web presence. I'll review your meta tags, examine your copy, and be all over your navigation. If I cannot find anything to improve, I'll tell you that. I'm happy to share a sample report, so you can preview what you might expect.

Prelim evaluation and estimate provided."

The question is, is this a business model that could sustain me if I move to Oregon?
hummmm

You are too big to be Jesus

Birthday gift! It is party time. The big 50. Lots of balloons, singing helium balloons, Tweety singing happy birthday helium balloon was my favorite, but there were 5-6 others. Yummy appetizers and wonderful food. Fish...what kind of fish? Oh, one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish. Lots of fun-loving folks. We discussed movies, fast cars, new bright yellow boats, high school yearbook messages, the fate of Pluto. Planet or not a planet. What if your horoscope was based on Pluto's influence? Now what?

Shall we sing along with Oklahoma or Rocky Horror. Lets do the Time Warp again, or maybe just watch. Not enough for some but way too much for others. They do not make cult classics like they used to. "Snakes on a Plane" Please! Give me Rocky so big on a giant HD flatscreen, I can see Tim Curry's 5 o'clock shadow under his makeup.

Then there was a guy who was considering a part in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat. Someone suggested he play Moses...his striking jock image, type cast...but no, he said, I want to play Jesus, then the question skips around the laughter...you are too big to play Jesus. How do we know? I mean I agree...too big, too craggy, too cut.

And I am to big to play Mary: too flabby, too immodest, too profane. and to old to be the next Shirley Temple. I'm 50 too, no 54...too old. But I so enjoyed being there for someone else, turning 50, throwing herself a big party with a chocolate fountain, build your own cocktail bar, and then find your way home in the dark.>

Driftwood horse

Munch, munch, no wonder I'm so skinny and dried up. Only one meager weed is within my reach. I have many brothers and sisters around the world. Funny, it must be genetic; skinny, bony, looks like driftwood that has been turned to bronze for sculptures that last.

Echoes of August. Hot, dry, clear blue sky after Marine layer burns off in California. Long summer working for that hourly wage. Not clear why any more. A say, "get as much as you can from this gig", who knows what is next. Could be worse. Could be a bronze cast of a driftwood horse. I so relate to the site, the sight, driving out the back way from the hourly gig...hot dry August, in California. I love it. Days get shorter. Evenings are cool. We all feel like moving around again.

Going to the frogs

Slipped out of a hammock yesterday; just a graceless plop, but reminiscent of the graceless dismounts I executed when learning to ski, and reaching the end of the T lift, in Vermont. The hammock was up Calaveras county way, near Big Trees and Murphys' Shakespeare at the local winery, where they pour really full plastic cups of their wonderful Cab. But the bouquet was slightly spoiled by the fumes of bug spray that necessarily save the evening from turning into a feeding frenzy for the bugs.

Shared the lake swimming with ducks, all females for some reason. The water was warm at the surface but cold if you dropped your feet down, and filled with grass that got tangled in your toes. Very clear and clean but still, showered thoroughly after swimming around for an hour or so. So quiet and peaceful, we paddled out past the platforms and toward the far end where no one else hung out. Lake swimming, have not done that since the late 70's.

We drove up early in the morning so practically flew past highways that are often clogged with Bay Area traffic. Driving home today was not so pleasurable. Plus, had to face the end of the weekend. Plus, seemed like someone had a wild party at my townhouse while I was gone.

Whatever. I was having a wild time working on a laser cut limited edition wood jigsaw puzzle and gazing at the starry sky between the tall trees. Little brown bats buzzed us. Who knew I should not have slept well at all last night. Time for my princess to move it on out. I'm not happy living with her anymore. I am only happy when I'm away.

Books and linen and flip-flops...oh my

This was Cherokee; I stopped on the way to my friend's, on the way up to visit her one last time. She is on her way to Ruidoso, NM. I helped her get started. Packing box after box; actually mostly empty cases formerly packed with exotic beer.
She said fill them so they all weigh the same; couple books, some linen, topped off with a pair or two of flip-flops. New flip-flops, old flip-flops, certain styles in a variety of colors, most very girlie and fun.
Labels, I marked them with a Sharpie, piled the boxes up on the front deck, in one corner. Just a small dent in the contents of her house, that needed to be packed, but it was a start and that is what needed to get done.
We needed to get started. Same with my job hunt. I finally got started. Now I ask everyone I meet. Just needed a jump start.

No more camp coffee in the morning

Little things mean so much and add pleasure and value to life. At work, at the office, we have long suffered from camp coffee syndrome. Another symptom of sad life clinging to a sinking ship. Too cheap to find and buy the correct sized coffee filters, we carefully made coffee with little tiny filters sized for half the volume of grounds as must be used to make passable coffee using the restaurant style coffee makers. Pre-measured hot water flows rapidly through inadequate sized filter overflowing the grounds into the coffee pot and leaving the coffee drinkers to pick the grounds from between their teeth before going to meetings.

This tradition has finally been put to rest. The pleasure and happy satisfaction of confidently making and pouring fresh Peet's coffee for the all important first cup at 5 AM makes all the difference in the world to me. I could work here forever now. If they would only make me an offer...

Last visit with Dr.Low

She said "You are saying all the right words. You need to work on acting on your own best advice"
I say...good trick

She said "Take 24: delay acting on your impulses. Wait 24 hours before acting on any obsession"
I say...OK another game I can play with myself

She said "Practice doing the right thing. Start fresh each day"
I say...I like to think that way...it fits my psyche

She said "Save yourself!"
I say...but what about all the other souls I'm trying to save

She said "You are overfed...food will not rescue you"
I ask...no more calming myself with carbs?

She said "Who do you think you are...god?"
I say...well no but, I have learned how to survive and I believe I can teach others

She said "Be focused on the dog...you will learn about yourself"
I say...amen.

How do you spell god? I spell it Cesar.

Cesar Millan is my hero. Who else could bring religious fervor to a cold atheist soul. He is my new best friend and the savior of my relationship with Rave. I may finally learn how to parent from watching the "Dog Whisperer" on NTGEO/National Geographic Channel. I recently changed my satellite network pkg so that channel is included and dropped HBO. Nothing on HBO in the next few months...(no new Sopranos, nor Bill Maher, nor Carnivale). I look forward to the Closer, but I worship Cesar.

His shows are a series of one or two miracles each half hour. He has clarity and knows how to demonstrate sane behavior. It looks like well rehearsed fakery. After getting sucked into the first show, I went downstairs and tried something simple on Rave. She knew immediately what was the haps. It was cool. Suddenly, I had learned a new language...dog. No more screaming; barking has been replaced by gentle persuasion. A look or not looking, a touch or a gesture...it just works.

I am usually calm but now I practice solid calm and open aware. And Rave knows it. So does my daughter. It so works on people. In fact that is Cesar's tagline. "He rehabilitates dogs and trains people." That is exactly what I need. I was never taught how to parent and I have always known I was not a good parent. I'm a good person and I've got by on my merits and morals, loosely defined and constantly evolving as they are.

Now I learn how to behave. I am learning how to behave like the leader of the pack. I am confident in my role. I know who I am and how to talk and walk. I make my expectations clear and correct when I need to give feedback. Late in life to be learning the basics but surely not too late. Practice, lots of practice and patience. I'll never be perfect but I can see improvement daily. That is rewarding and inspirational. I love Rave and I love C. I can tell they love me too. We are all learning manners and how to communicate. I do not know how to spell g o d but I do know how to spell dog (whisperer).

Letter to Orma Carls on Mother's Day 2006

Hi Mom,

You and Amie seemed very happy to be together last time I saw you. I hope you like the Mardi Gras beads I sent you for Mother's day this year. It has been a very strange time since last May, for me and for you. Too bad there is not room by your bed for the yellow roses I usually send. Will you miss them or had they become a burden?

Wish you could tell me today, what it is like for you, in a way I could understand and remember later when I am sitting in a chair with a little belt on that is connected to an alarm. Hopefully, someone always notices when I try to wander off, away from home and caregivers and my special chair.

Last visit you talked to me about your mother and the house where you grew up. I think that is what you remember and where you want to be. I hope you feel safe where you are now, and cared for now, like you felt safe and cared for in your mother's arms.

A lifetime has passed for me, since I felt safe and warm in your arms. 54 years to be exact. I was one month old by your first Mother's Day. Your third baby, alive and perfect and healthy; all sweetness and potential; your number one daughter.

You were young, you married and settled down. You did everything you could to make your new family happy with you. Was there ever enough? Is this your reward? There were few rewards during all those years of caring for us, and caring for dad, sewing special dresses and knitting sweaters. I remember you taught me how to do those crafts.

So many things I still don't understand. We were always worlds apart. I felt like a changeling. Still do. Sometimes I've found older people to learn from but rarely the gift of infinite love and generosity as I have poured into my relationship with my own daughter.

You and I were together a very short time; we have been walking away from each other much longer than that. It is a bittersweet moment when I see you or think about you. I feel the loss and I mourn for what might have been our lives and our relationship if somehow we were different. And the times were different. Like today...what if we could be together as if it were 1952 again?

But my life has already happened. Your life continued on your chosen course. I think of you and about our lives, every Mother's day. I'll try with renewed commitment to be a good girl, a daughter for you to be proud of, and the best Mother I can be. I love you. I hope you hear me say that to you, somewhere in your memory.

What she said

RLG set on Flickr

RLG blog

RLG Corp Site

CC:GROLL *new news

"Endless Bummer" * new (picnic report in photos)

FaReWeLL T-SHiRT DeSiGNS *new designs added so check back

Easter egg

alt egg

Here are more pix of the results of our Easter Egg decoration party. It was Easter Simple this year. All the fun but no parade in fancy hats, or new white shoes, or enormous feast. Our friend/guest Matt, played along, and our fingers got soaked in food color. It rained all day.

Waxed paper worked. Wax crayons worked. Our paper-towels were also works of art, at the end of the session.

April Fool: I'm 54 and there is so much more

H E double toothpicks :

When I went to see my shrink I thought I wanted her to give me advice on how to save him. Although I was desperate for this advice, she told me to save myself. When I got married was it a match made in heaven or hell. Psych hell but perfectly complementary. He chose me and I choose him. Can't say no to a broken man; I liked him to be vulnerable. Looking for a battered woman? I have the baggage. I wear it with a certain amount of pride. Because I survived. Since I was 4. Always looking to save someone. So, I say again, save myself. I wish I knew how to get selfish.

Gods and Monsters:

I've always dreamed I'd rescue someone. Rescue a baby, adopt a kitten, nurse a baby rabbit to maturity. Rescue me. Stop trying to rescue others. Save yourself. Time to move on.

She 's a predator:

Rave is a dog's dog. She wants to kill my cat. She eats like a scavenger. She sleeps with complete trust and I'm happy to have her on the floor in her bed next to mine. Since someone forgets to lock the door more often than not, at night.

Beautiful mind:

Can turn ugly. In defense or is it offense? Offensive yes. But who do I offend? I'm sure I do sometimes. So what? Let it go.

Equalization theory:

Eventually you and your significant other person will continue to interact until you both feel the same about each other. Unbalanced relationships do not last. They move toward a stable state. Just like a chemical reaction. Equal love or equal hate. Steady state? Prove that.

Nothing New:

Live refurbished, recycle and re-use. Consumed too much...wasted so much time. Now there is some time left but less. Less each day. Today, it is time to get serious. Time to get back on a goal train. Travel. Learn.

Just say no:

Change your mantra! Just say non.

God Bless JohnD

Likely my brother Rick, will be the only one who remembers saying our GodBlesses ever night before bed. They started out "God Bless JohnD, granma&granpa, mom&dad, Pam, Pat, Rick, Mary, and baby Virginia..." There were more after that but that was the last time I remember saying them with feeling.

John D McCarthy was my godfather, who died a young man during the Korean War. He gave me Boppy, the little sleepy dog I carry around with me to this day. Amie looked a lot like Boppy, come to think. Boppy never came to the door to greet me, but acted in my defense against my two younger brothers...hence the name Boppy cause I used him as a weapon.

Amie did not come to the door with her usual wildly enthusiastic greeting on Fri. I had to go look for her. She was not in my bed where I left her at 5:30 AM that morning. She was downstairs in a comfortable chair, on a blanket, but she didn't look up at me when I found her. She had that drunken stupor stare; I had seen that look right before she had her first medical crisis, almost three years ago to the day.

So off we went to Cherry Chase Pet Hospital; Dr Standley asked politely if she could run a liver panel and I said OK, but nothing more. C met us there and we waited for the results. The nurse even brought out a nice big fluffy towel so Amie did not have to lie on the cold metal table; a gesture that both Amie and I appreciated.

The values were off but not completely off the chart. So we took her home. On the way home she and I decided it was time to let her go. Earlier she clenched her teeth when I tried to force water. So I listened to that. I remembered transporting Ouzo the cat, at age 18 and asking him if he wanted to fight any more. He mewed back at me with a spark in his eyes, so we kept on fighting. Amie was a limp little rag in my lap; she seemed too tired to fight any more.

She slipped into a comma while we were all taking a short nap. During the night she came out of it, but she was blind and probably deaf by then. She had become zombie puppet Amie...swimming around back in the womb. We made her comfortable, and waited, and watched, and talked, and cried.

What if she goes on like this until next week? What if she is in pain? Maybe I can sneak her into the office if I put her in my purse... Or what if she seems to be suffering and it is Sunday and there are no Vets to help us? Why won't they give me a euthanasia shot to take home? Amie only weighs 4-5 lbs...No C said, what if you lost it or used it on a baby? right, of course...what if...

Amie went through her process very quickly. C kept taking her pulse and breathing rate as she had been trained to do at Banfield. Amie was slowing down, hour by hour, like a coiled spring...gently relaxing. And like a wind up toys sometimes do, she would suddenly roll her head and make swimming motions with her paws in the air, then settle back down. If she stopped in an awkward position, we returned her to a more comfortable position, back in her little bed.

She was cold, so she kept her sweater on, but I took her collar off when we got back from the vet's. Now I wear it as a bracelet. I moved her into the sun for a while so she might feel the warmth, and opened the window so she might hear the familiar sounds of the neighborhood, and the mocking birds singing. Or not...

I held her on my lap as she passed. I thought I could feel little vibrations, faint rushes of energy leaving her body, for some time after she had stopped breathing. Then C helped me wrap her in a piece of silk I had cut for this purpose, and we put Amie in a plastic bin. Then C took her to work and signed her up for cremation service.

Amie has waited patiently in her pretty peach sweater, wrapped in an aqua silk brocade shroud then zipped into a body bag, in the dead animal fridge, for pick-up today. Soon she will be home with us again, in a tiny marble urn.

God bless Amie. Small dog, very big heart. She had a lot to say in life; our house is very quiet now.

Amie: Sept 24, 2000 - March 18, 2006

Amie: small dog, very big heart. This is her last portrait; see more at Pictures of Amie, a Papillon dog. .

Two tickets to Paradise

I am still in a trance. We had a really great time at Cirque du Soleil! In the fine tradition of doing things the "A" way, when C's boss would not let her off till 3:15 for the 4:00 pm show, I gassed up her car and picked her up from the vet's office. She changed out of her scrubs discretely in the passenger seat,while we inched along in rush hour traffic on 101 South. We got stuck in the worst grid-lock right at the site, because it was shift change time and every cop-car in San Jose was either coming or going from the cop-shop right next to the tents. Tents for the Cirque were located down the street from the main jail and the cop-shop and the court buildings.

What a mess; cop-cars making all sort of illegal turns; even gunning it right at us. I think they had had enough of the 10 week run...this was the last week of the show in SJ. Funny stuff really but we had to park at the civic center and hot foot it back to the Cirque.

We got there just after 4:00 but too late...someone had planted themselves in our PRIMO seats. We had to watch from the top of the ramp until the end of the first act so the usher could clear them out. Then we were just four rows back on the isle. So perfect! Right along the main entrance for performers and right where you could look up and see all the wires and mechanisms.

The magic, the physicallty and super athleticism of the acrobats, and the swelling music and hypnotic melodies are enchanting. There is nothing in the universe like Cirque du Soleil. This was Cirque number 4 for me; I'm still in love.

Graduation day

Did it!

WWBD

TARA
I am Tara Riley, one of the sweetest girls in Sunnydale. I love my friends friends, nature, and white magic.


Which Character from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla


What Would Buffy Do? (not)

When things break, when people break? Try to fix them! Fight back against evil. Never give up. Carry a sharpened stick. Take kickboxing classes. Gather your friends around and rise up as a group. Look to your mentor, your watcher for support. Give your mom credit for believing in your ability to slay. Us BWWWOES will stick together. Remember the more love you put out there, the greater the net love in the universe. Clap, clap if you believe. I believe. I believe you are not just you, you are Amazing!

BWWWOES take breaks, do lunch, and never back down. Well hardly ever.

Happy Vday!

Marry me! Email me!

Banfield open

There is a new Vet in Sunnyvale. Today is opening day. Rave is their first and most popular patient. I call her Rave-on. Here are more pix of Rave. Who is that lovely young lady behind the counter? Congrats!

(Later that evening...what not to feed your puppy) doclink

Nice Day for a White Wedding

Nice day to start again. Billy Idol.

Back at RLG in a new cube. White wedding theme left over from the last occupant. She got married and moved back east. It is kinda dark and quiet and I have two old friends as neighbors. As long as none of us eat beany burritos or fight with our respective boyfriends, girlfriends, spouses, or kids on the phone...

This is pleasant. I cheerfully talk to customers and still run into people from my past lives at Bird Library, Syracuse University or Melville Library, SUNY Stony Brook, or Green Library, Stanford University or even Bancroft Library, at UC Berkeley. As a short timer, part-time temp, I know I am not trapped. I don't go to any meetings. I come in very early (6 am), do productive work, and leave. Life is good. I see my old friends and sometimes wait around long enough...take a nap or whatever...and go out to lunch. It is a good three month long gig.

New desk is still cluttered

But it is mine. All my clutter. This is my new corner office. Three phones. Three soon to be four computers. Wireless home network. Klimt 2006 wall calendar. Wine glass (Merlot). TV news. 2005 taxes in one crate, 2006 taxes in another crate. MercuryWebSolutions in a crate.
COBRA, Unemployment insurance. CBEST practice test. Child Advocates. RLG is nowhere to be seen in this image...because 6AM to 11AM M-F, that is all they get. When I am in my home office I work for MercuryWebSolutions and take care of personal business.

Chat of course; lots of business and personal chat. Knitting; still have a half dozen crazy boas started. Gifts; not made yet, so not ready to be sent. Books; a line of books to read. Dog; sleeping or begging for a walk.

Tomorrow is an important anniversary. Sometimes I try to take the day off to contemplate what I've done with my life. Not as much as I might have but way more than I ever dreamed.

Pam Cam number one

This is a Google Earth view of my cul-de-sac in Sunnyvale, CA 94089

HamCam#2 is also Pam Cam number one. There I am far below in Santa Clara valley, looking up toward Mt Hamilton observatory, waving madly at you! This gives a birds-eye view of Silicon Valley, and real-time info about weather and daylight. "Most of what has become the megalopolis known as the Bay Area and Silicon Valley was a rural patchwork of farms, orchards, ranches, and sleepy towns", in the late 1800s. Now, at night, it is a sea of glowing lights.

Something special about January 1

Today is roasted fresh hen turkey day. January 1, 2006. Same day, 1980, I got married in Marin County, CA. See happy couple a few years later. No way to predict what this New Year's Day might bring. National hangover day? That seems poetically just.

Just like that day in 1980, it is raining and has been raining for days. Raining too hard to cook a turkey outside on the Weber grill. So she is stuffed with onion wedges and garlic cloves and lemon pepper, and rubbed with olive oil, shoved easily into my new black sealed- top oven, I so rarely use.

I like to think about how I got here and certainly getting married that day was a significant decision along the way. Always will be a special day, New Year's Day, for me.