My Ram is a scolding ram! Baaaaaaaaa!!!

"You've got needs -- but so does everybody else! It's one of those days in which you can get a lot farther by smiling and asking how people are doing than by simply reaching for whatever you want." Especially if you come home at 3:50am and the question is posed, "Where ya been? Bars close at 2:00." Not ALL bars close at 2:00...and what if I'm just a selfish bitch? Then my needs would come first, right? I should have read that damn horoscope when it reared its ugly head in my inbox at 11:40pm last night! What good is a horoscope if you read it 16 hours after the fact???

So I cooked a lovely dinner of homemade pasties. It's a two hour ordeal but worth it, I find!

"There are many perfectly nice cats in the world, but every barrel has its bad apples, and it is well to heed the old adage, "Beware the bad cat bearing a grudge.."" That'll do pig, that'll do...

"I can't finish all this and sleep at the same time."

"You have to sleep. It's what keeps you pretty."

So, the other night, H tells me to come watch something on the iMAX in our living room. Thinking it's some great hockey clip, I hop to. It turns out to be a story on 60 Minutes about SLEEP. http://www.cbsnews.com/sections/i_video/main500251.shtml?id=3942130n

Leslie Stahl* is reporting on all the bad things that can happen to you if you don't sleep: heart disease, diabetes, obesity, blindness, rotten teeth, scurvy...okay, I made up those last three. We watch the whole episode, which is s longie--they actually break for commercial in the middle of the report. If you watch 60 Minutes you know this is a rare occurrence. At the end of the report, he says, "See! That's why you need to sleep more." I was speech-LESS! I HAVE TO SLEEP MORE? This coming from a guy who's sleep cycle is so f-ed up he can't fall asleep when the sun goes down? Seriously, he sleeps from 4am-10am. I don't get it. I thought he DVR'd the episode for me as if to say, "Wow, I should get more sleep," meaning HE should get more sleep. He goes on to say, "You get up at the butt-crack of dawn, play hockey or workout and then go to work then play hockey or workout until midnight." I should have looked at him and said, "Hello pot! I may be the kettle, but we're BOTH black!"

Quotes (you know I love my quotes) from the report:

• "In fact, sleep is as essential as food because they will die just about as quick from food deprivation as sleep deprivation. So, it's that necessary," [First food is fuel and now sleep is, too???]


• "Whatever the function of sleep, or the functions of sleep are, they seem to be so important that evolution is willing to put us in that place of potential danger by losing consciousness. It would be the biggest evolutionary mistake if sleep does not serve some critical function," [The scientists don't even KNOW why we need sleep and they are assuming it's an evolutionary mistake if it's not important? What is that?]


• "Sleep, we've been finding, actually can enhance your memories, so that you'll come back the next day even better than where you were the day before," [So, on the days I get 8 hours (that's what they recommend in this study) I should remember everything from yesterday. What if you're completely wasted the prior day and you get 8 hours of sleep that night? Will you remember all the crazy shit you did the night before?]


• "So, it seems to be that practice does not quite make perfect; it’s practice with a night of sleep that makes perfect," [I am going to try this tonight to prepare for my lesson tomorrow. We'll just see about that! I'll do my own damn sleep study and let you know. I'm no Leslie Stahl, but I do have a stop watch that goes tick-tick-tick-tick-tick.]


• "It's this odd notion that we all think in Western civilization that we have to stay awake to get more done. And I think that's simply not true. In fact, I think if you have a good night of sleep, what you'll find is that you can get more done than if you simply stay awake." [Adding this to my study...]
  
• "Well, the first finding, and it stunned us, was there's a cumulative impairment that develops in your ability to think fast, to react quickly, to remember things. And it starts right away," Dinges says. "A single night at four hours or five hours or even six, can in most people, begin to show affects in your attention and your memory and the speed with which you think. A second night it gets worse. A third night worse. Each day adds an additional burden or deficit to your cognitive ability." [If the detrimental effects are cumulative, doesn't one of those math properties come into effect here (what are they, again...associative, commutative, distributive, and equality??) that if you sleep for 24 hours straight, you could make up three nights of lost sleep, thus, lack of sleep is cumulative but so is a lot of sleep...]


• "But remember, we're not allowing caffeine, and we're not allowing physical activity and bright light. And for most of us, probably a day or two or so, you can get by taking these, what we call the counter measures, right? But, at some point what these studies show is the impairments get so bad, that there's little to no rescue possible without getting more sleep," [AH HA! CHEATERS!!! This damn study isn't even close to real life. What sleep deprived person doesn't use some kind of stimulant until they can catch some make up zzzz's?]

I may have to concede the sleep issue...It's not just H. My mama and Coach tell me I need more sleep, too. I'm out numbered. Funny, Miss Marley thinks by 6am every morning I've had plenty of sleep. I'm still doing my own damn sleep study, though, so stay tuned.

*Side note: H and I actually have a funny joke between us about Leslie Stahl. She did a report a few years ago about autistic savants. There was a young boy, maybe 8 or 9, who was blind and severely autistic. He was also an incredible piano player. Anyhoo, when she first met him and introduced herself to him, he said to her, in his cute little voice, "Helloooo Lez-lee." We often repeat this funny greeting randomly for no reason at all. It's really just funny to the two of us, I'm guessing. Never mind.

The Bug Blooms

Here are some rare, never-seen photos of Bug O' Death. She is wearing her very special helmet cover. (It's actually a swim cap on loan from a male teacher she works with, who is also the best player on our men's team. He wore it at a pie throwing contest at their school. I gotta say, my schools and teachers SUCKED compared to the fun things BOD does with her students!!!)

Sadly, the jackass refs wouldn't let the Bug skate with her new look. It apparently posed some kind of hazard...rubber cap, rubber flowers...someone could lose an EYE or maybe even DIE! "You'll shoot your eye out, kid!"

Which just reminded me a funny thing my youngest nephew once said to me. He was sitting next to me at his first ever hockey game...we were watching H's team. The ref made a bad call (are you seeing a THEME here, people??) and I let slip, "Come on, Jackass, let them play." Without missing a beat, the 7-year old says, "NeNe, I think he's a zebra, not a jackass."

Crazy things I've heard this week:

A man, after visiting a strip club, is SUING the stripper who gave him a lap dance. She apparently clipped his face with her 5" stiletto heal when she was swinging her leg around his head. He claims he has permanent damage. No, he didn't lose an eye or anything and as far as I could see, looked like a typical fck-nut guy who visits strip clubs. Listen, Dumbass, you are giving her $$ to sit and spin on your lap and now you're suing her? I wonder if State Farm or Geico would insure strippers for this kind of thing...

The federal project officer of one of the grants I work on called me this week and said, "What time is it there in Denver? How many hours are you ahead of me?" She's in Maryland. I wanted to say, "I'm about 90 IQ points ahead." But instead said, "Um...we're two hours behind Eastern Time, so it's 11:00 here." How do people like that have jobs? Oh, they work for the federal government.

A stingray JUMPED (or FLEW) out of the water and landed on a women's face in Florida. The woman died. She was riding in a boat with her husband. They were going about 25mph. The stingray weighed almost 60lbs. WTF? Stingray can jump or fly or whatever??? Coming from landlocked MT, I don't know much about sea life. I'm not a water lover, especially oceans. They freak me out. Give me a nice fresh water lake, any day: no sharks, no stingrays, no crazy wild sea life. Just fish and slimy weeds, and they don't taste like you're sucking on a salt lick. Yuk! And what was the husband thinking and doing while watching this rogue stingray? What would you do? Holy crap. I'd crap my shorts, that's what I'd do.

AnnaBanana is in SanFran this week and texted me this bumpersticker she saw: "George Bush is the worst president in history. How did people vote for him twice??" I'll tell you, HE CHEATED! And no, he's not a pirate, and least not the good, Johnny Depp-pirate.

Me to the 19 year old Starbucks barista, "Hi. Can I get a grande decaf?" She looked at me for 20 seconds straight. Then finally said, "Um...like, coffee?" I said, "Um...like, yes, coffee. You know, drip coffee. The brown stuff you brew into those big pots?" She pondered this for another 20-some-odd-seconds and said, "Uh, we don't have coffee." No explanation. No reason. Okay then. I've got nothing. So many things come to mind, like, "Sweetie you are too young to have fried your brain smoking so much pot," or "Oh, is this Starbucks Guitar Repair & Maintenance? I thought it was the coffee shop," or "REALLY? You've run out of beans? Holy shit, it's Armageddon! RUN FOR THE HILLS!" I walked across the street to the REAL Starbucks and got my cup o' joe. Good thing there's one on every block!

Look Ma, TRIPLETS!!!

Born: T1 (triplet on the right)-November 3, 2007 (replaced January 5, 2008 & January 28, 2008)
T2 (triplet in the middle)-March 5, 2008
T3 (triplet on the left)-March 11, 2008
It's a strange gestation period for skates.

Weight: 5lbs/pair in box
Size: 5D

Total cost, pre-surgical repair: $490
Estimated surgical cost: $270

Since I've learned (x3) from T1 that the eyelets are deformed, I'm going to do a preventative procedure on T2 & T3. And now we wait for reconstructive surgery. We're going with a specialist in St. Paul, MN.


Deformed.
But I don't discriminate: T1 is treated just like T2 & T3.

Lovey Lu-Lu and the Sock Fetish

This is my sweet Lovey Lu Bird, Daisy:

She's a 4 1/2 year old German Shepherd mix, and she's the sweet, sweet, protector of my world. She oversees all the doings at our house. We adopted her on her last day at doggie-death-camp (aka Denver Municipal Shelter). She was a stray. She was malnourished and very, very sick. Didn't take long to nurse her back to health: 40 treats and 200 kisses a day will do that!

She potty-trained herself = ZERO accidents in the house (and she lived on the street her whole pup-life, pre-adoption), crate-trained with ease (although she did growl like a mad-dog in the mornings when she wanted out), she was top in her obedience class (she was very good at correcting the hyper beagle when he got out of control), and she never, ever chewed on anything that wasn't "hers."

She used to guard our garbage. Whenever we'd take the trash out, she'd come over and guard it and us, like she trained at Loomis Fargo. Seriously, the Queen, Herself, couldn't ask for better security detail. Now she hoards our socks. Four years into living together, you think you know a dog, and it's just now that her sock fetish has reared its ugly head.

This is her latest sock collection. No sock is safe. No location is sacred. She actually noses her way into H's hamper and pulls out the socks! Turn your back for two seconds...your sock is history, baby. I guess it could be worse, she could like underwear or Danskos.

And randomly, she'll chew you a nice little hole in the end of your sock, just in case you need...a hole...in the end of your...sock.

We used to fight it. We'd find her with her paws on top of the sock, head down over it in protect mode, and we'd take it away from her. We'd tell her it's not her sock and give her one of the many, many approved dog toys scattered throughout the house. She never growls or snaps. She just looks very disappointed when you take away her latest acquisition. Now, we just let her keep them. Dogs live, what, 10-15 years? I can live without a couple socks for the next 6-11 years, knowing she was a happy, happy sock-loving pooch.

As proof: this is about half of the "approved" dog toy pile. I pile them on the bed, Miss Marley scatters them throughout the house...it's a great game!

We are very lucky that Marley realizes that the socks are Daisy's so we don't have to mediate any disputes over hosiery.

Aries forecast of the day:

So this was what greeted me in my inbox this morning,

"Some days are just less exciting than others and you know deep down that's a good thing. Everyone needs to recharge and refuel every now and then and you're no exception -- so stick to the schedule!"


I think I heard this at least twice today, IN PERSON, once from Coach and once from my Boss. That's just down-right freaky! It's like that damn ram is spying on me. Remember, I don't buy in to that crap, but I think I'm ready to throw a dollar in the pot. Maybe I should have bought a lottery ticket last Saturday...

Raise a glass to the band geek in your life!

I was a band geek for almost all my school years. I started in 4th grade and kept right on going through college. Mainly because my mama bought me a flute in 4th grade---I asked for a clarinet: potato/potatoe---and she said I would have to play it the rest of my life. I perdy much do what she says. She is the boss of me.

This PostSecret just cracked (tee hee!) me up. I can't say I ever went commando in my marching uni, at least in high school...but I think I marched drunk a few times in college, so it's anyone's guess if I was commando or not.

I met some of my best friends in band...good times. And band geeks (Band-O's if you went to Butte High in the 80's) like to drink, a lot, wherever they go. The chaperones used to check our luggage before band trips and SMELL all our shampoo/conditioner/water bottles, looking for alcohol. Tip: stash it in your instrument case. Doesn't work well if you play the piccolo so make friends with the tuba player.

Bands always get roped into playing for all kinds of crazy events. Our high school band played at the opening of the McDonald's in my home town. Am I the only one that finds that weird? Did then. Still do.

We also played for volleyball matches (fans and players hated us) and for wrestling matches. [I have nothing against either sport. It's just that the fans, athletes and coaches didn't really want us there. We didn't really want to be there. We already played for every football and boys/girls basketball games, and every parade in town. It was some some kind of Title IX/equal access thing in the 80's, I think.] The wrestling coach at my high school (he holds some national record for number of state titles...creepy little guy with cauliflower ears) asked us to just play the same song after each match: the theme from the 1984 Sarajevo Olympics. [This is one of my favorite Olympics. It's the one where Torvill & Dean skated to Ravel's Bolero and brought down the house with perfect 10's in artistic impression. First time ever in ice dancing. Sorry hockey mates...I'm still a figure skater at heart, and sometimes when I'm skating now in full hockey gear. Just ask Coach about my pretty flamingo leg extension. I was in figure skating back in '84, so...leave me alone. I can tell you that the Soviet hockey team defeated the Fins in 1984 for the gold. So there.] My fingers still know the notes to that damn theme song. It's one of those tunes that once it's in your head, it's not going anywhere. What is that all about? And the wrestling coach dictates the music? Weird.

My college marching band played for a dedication of a veteran's memorial. We were all SO hungover and it was a super somber event. I just remember thinking, please gawd, don't let me vomit in my sax. And being the jokesters that band geeks are, it was hard to keep a straight face with all the comments and innuendos flying around. Funny and sad at the same time.

My music career has come in handy in life. A couple years ago, my friend U1 (Ugly 1), [we have a U2 & a U3 in our circle---it's a term of endearment, I promise. I'm one of the U's. Don't go feeling all bad for the Uglies.] and I played a sax duet of the Star Spangled Banner at our state hockey tourney. I thought it might be cheesy, but we got a ton of compliments. One of the player's mother came up to us in tears about what a special moment it was. Ummmm....it's a women's REC HOCKEY LEAGUE! Weird. My team lost in the championship game in a shootout. Not weird. Just disappointing.

You can identify the Uglies because we have this sticker on our cars. Although, U2 is in Singapore and I don't think she has a car there...

Strange is as strange does.

You are not alone.

I'm definitely out there. Here.

Doing strange things.

Saying strange things.

Going to strange places. (See http://bugodeath.blogspot.com/for WrestleMania 03/16/08.)

So in this week's PostSecret, I count no less than 10 that could be mine. And yet, maybe one is...I'm not saying for sure.

Get upstairs and put your big pants on!!!

A picture, or three, is worth a thousand words...and 90lbs!!!

Seriously. Those were my shorts. I wore them LAST SUMMER!!! I think they are sz 24, maybe. Not sure. Now they are Lucky 10's. I can get both my legs into one of the legs of the big shorts.
I found them in my closet. After 40+ huge garbage bags to Goodwill, somehow, one pair remained...I just need to figure out how to tone my flabby ass and I'll be set. I hope that's not age-related, too!