"You Make Choices"

Monday, February 27, 2012
I have a very wise Uncle. He is, unsurprisingly, married to my very wise Aunt. As a couple, they are role models to the Smart Man and me, and when we grow up, we want to be just like them.

During a recent conversation, my Uncle said something that has been on my mind of late.

I've discussed before how I believe that love is not an emotion, but an act. My Uncle basically said the same thing, but in a different way. He said, "You make choices. People make choices." To his mind, those choices reflect the priorities of the people who make them, whether we want them to or not. And we're going to be judged on those priorities, again, whether we want to be or not.

I've long known that this is the case, although I occasionally need to put on my Missouri hat and remind myself that people will show me who they are. But the thing that's been on my mind recently is how we sometimes find ourselves surprised by the natural consequences of our priorities and choices. It's simply true that when we choose an act, we choose the consequences of that act. So when I treat others with consideration and kindness, when I prioritize them in my life and act accordingly, I'm choosing to nurture a mutually supportive relationship and can reasonably expect reciprocity. But if I choose not to do those things, well, then I can only reasonably expect to be treated in kind.

I tend to be reclusive, so making sure I prioritize the people in my life with whom I choose to be connected is sometimes challenging for me. But I try to keep this thing at the top of the mind, because I know I can be neglectful when I live inside my head too much. It's important to me that I be the kind of friend, the kind of family member, who prioritizes others, so I try to make that choice. Of course I'm not always successful...but I'm trying, and when I fail, I do my best to make amends and work harder in the future.

It's also true that reciprocity waxes and wanes over the course of long relationships. Sometimes people need more support and attention, sometimes they need less. That ebb and flow is part of what's required when you enter into relationships with other people, and caring adults learn to manage it. But it's still all about making informed choices, accepting the consequences of those choices, and recognizing the choices of others.

I've decided that from now on, I'm choosing to recommit myself to those people who have committed themselves to me. It's no less than I - and they - deserve. And those who choose not to commit themselves to me will no longer be living rent-free inside my head. I have the power to choose - and I will.

2011 Flower Pr0n - Hawai'i!

Sunday, February 26, 2012


If you call here again, I'm going to track you down and cut you.

Friday, February 24, 2012
I know I said I was going to be scarce around here for a bit, but the Smart Sailor is out with a buddy, and this IS REALLY STARTING TO STAND ON MY LAST NERVE.

Our home telephone number has been on the Federal Do Not Call list since July 1, 2003, and each year, I verify the registration. Our phone number is on this list because (surprise!) we don't want those annoying telemarketers interrupting our days and nights with whatever promotion they think I can't live without. We never - never - donate money or purchase products or services over the phone. Never. So calling here is always a waste of time, for both the caller and for us.

But over the last couple of months, the number of businesses who have been calling the Big Yellow House trying to shill their cheap crap has increased significantly. And I've had enough. I've gone from saying "no thank you" and hanging up, to saying "we're on the federal "Do Not Call" list, so calling here is a violation of federal law" and hanging up, to getting all the details of the violating company so I can then inform them that I'm reporting a violation of the "Do Not Call" list to the federal government.

I don't have much sympathy for these jokers, and I'm not interested in their lame excuses. Remaining compliant with the "Do Not Call" registry is just not that fucking hard. Please note that designing these solutions is what I do for a living - I know, know, what is required to be compliant, and your company either just doesn't give a good goddamn, or is too cheap to comply with the law, or possibly both. And telling me that your database hasn't been updated with my "do  not call" status yet is just sad and pathetic. I've been on the list non-stop for almost nine years. Are you honestly trying to claim that your company hasn't updated their database in nine fucking years? And if so, why in the Hell would I want to do business with you?

STOP CALLING MY HOUSE. OR I WILL TRACK YOU DOWN AND CUT YOU.

Other Fish to Fry

Thursday, February 23, 2012
I'm taking the rest of the week off to spend some time with the Smart Sailor. I'm sure you'll understand my lack of original and pithy content until he leaves.

Of course, even if you don't, it's pretty certain that I'm not going to care much - I haven't seen my son in over a year, and his next stop is half-way around the world. Priorities. I have some.

Have a nice week, Hot Chicks and Smart Men.

Dude...Ew...Gross

Monday, February 20, 2012
Have you seen the Geico commercial where the pudgy middle aged guy hires the local Middle School girls to call him to task when he eats something that's not so healthful?


 

That cracks me up. And reminds me that our friends have a role to play in holding us accountable for our choices and helping us to live a better life. After discussing this with the Mechanicky Gal and the Superlative Stacey, I've decided to call this the "Dude...ew...gross" rule. 

It's a rule that I've lived by for a great many years, of course. When the Mechanicky Gal was making less than fabulous decisions, I gave her the moral equivalent of "Dude..ew...gross." When I had my head planted firmly up my butt, she provided me with the same service: "Dude...ew...gross." 

Don't get me wrong - it's not like we're posting photos of our poor decisions on Facebook or YouTube - we have the ability to be kind with one another while still remaining honest, and these things are said with complete love and affection. But sometimes you need someone to call shenanigans on your emotional (and other) bullshit. And that someone needs to be a person with whom you have minimal emotional baggage. Because let's be honest - when your Mom gives you the "Dude...ew...gross" treatment, most people's reaction consists of the completely mature and rational "You're not the boss of me!"

So the Mechanicky Gal tells me that a woman of my age and fitness level should really be able to touch my toes without bending my knees, so why don't you do some yoga? And I take it in the spirit it was intended, examine my behavior, and make a change if it's warranted.* And when I tell Stacey that letting go of our anger is for our own good rather than the shitbirds', she gives it some thought before finding her own way.

The "Dude...ew...gross" rule. Trust me - this shit works. And you won't ever need to hire the local mean girls.

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*It was. I'm now doing three "Sun Salutations" a day in order to increase my flexibility.

2012 Flower Pr0n - Hawai'i!

Sunday, February 19, 2012


My Cup Runneth Over

Saturday, February 18, 2012
Thursday evening the Smart Sailor arrived here in Parker for two weeks of home leave before moving on to points West for his first non-training duty assignment.

Friday evening the Smart Man returned home after two weeks in another state for professional training as a result of a recent promotion.

Life is good.

Fitness, Food and Fat Nerds

Thursday, February 16, 2012
So my pal Rachael over at 4.5 Millions Years of Wonder posted a blog entry yesterday about how engaging in an exercise routine is all about finding something fun to do. She posits that nerds in general will always find something better to do rather than exercise if they don't enjoy it.

I think Rachael has a point - people will find themselves averse to continuing the Bataan Death march that is exercise if they don't enjoy it, but I'm afraid I'm a statistical outlier in her hypothesis. Here are the facts as they relate to me personally:
  • Exercising blows. I mean, it blows HARD. I simply despise the act of exercising, and no amount of trying to make it "fun" is going to change my mind. It's boring, and sweating sucks. Although I will admit to liking how I feel after I do it.
  • All those people who say "nothing tastes as good as being thin feels" are patently full of shit. A Ding Dong tastes much better than being thin feels, and that's just food porn - don't get me started on say, a fabulous dinner at the Brown Palace. 
  • People who say that "keeping fit is hard, and staying fat is hard, so choose which hard thing you want to pursue" are also full of shit. Staying fat is easy as hell - all you have to do is sit on the couch and eat Ding-Dongs, nature's perfect food porn. You might make a case that BEING fat is hard, though, depending on what you value in terms of your self-esteem.
  • I have a love/hate relationship with food. Not eating what I want (including the aforementioned food porn) ALL THE TIME takes effort on my part, and often I get sick of thinking about it...and gain weight. And then I feel bad. Lather, rinse, repeat. As I've gotten older I've gotten better at that "moderation" thing, but it hasn't been easy, and it hasn't happened overnight.
  • I don't like "activity" in a general sense unless it involves shopping at the local Outlet Mall. So finding something I enjoy that will get me moving is problematic. I don't think watching Dr. Who, knitting, or writing for my blog gives much much of a cardiovascular workout.
And yet, I do exercise, and have done so consistently and with discipline for many years. Even though I hate it. And you want to know why?
  • I'm terrified of the Mad Cow. Studies have shown a significant decrease in risk for various forms of dementia in women who engage in aerobic exercise beginning in middle age. So I may end up being a crotchety old fat ass (Hi, Helen!), but I'll be a mentally acute crotchety old fat ass.
  • I've had clinical depression for years. I'm extremely fortunate that I'm able to control it with aerobic exercise, so I do.
  • I've recently added strength training to my regimen because I decided that there's something worthwhile in being strong, if only in preparation for the zombie apocalypse. Not to mention pushing off that whole osteoporosis thing.
I think Rachael's best point is that those of us who are not natural athletes (i.e., nerds) end up getting ostracized during our school years for not being athletic enough, and that colors how we see fitness. I don't need to be an "athlete" to be strong and fit, and now, for the first time in many, many years, I feel STRONG. And AWESOME in my strength. Because I am. In spite of my loathing for the act of exercising, getting rid of that leftover feeling from my school years has been worth it. And I guess that's enjoyable enough.

Valentine's, Boobies and Planned Parenthood

Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Today is Valentine's Day. A day to recognize and celebrate those we love.

Today I have an appointment to get my annual Mammogram, which will be covered by my excellent health insurance.

And today I made a contribution to Planned Parenthood's general fund.

In my mind, these things just naturally follow each other.

Why my ladybrain should prevent my serving in a combat role

Monday, February 13, 2012
"I think that could be a very compromising situation, where people naturally may do things that may not be in the interest of the mission because of other types of emotions that are involved. It already happens, of course, with the camaraderie of men in combat, but I think it would be even more unique if women were in combat." - Rick Santorum, Cankerous Choad and anti-feminist
I have a confession to make.
Rick's absolutely correct. My ladybrain does, in fact, make me completely unsuitable for the military life: 
  • It prevented me from learning the both the technical and military skills that were required for me to be an effective Radioman.*
  • It prevented me from maintaining good order and discipline in my division.*
  • It prevented me from waking up every morning with an attitude that my current rank would be my last rank, and behaving appropriately to ensure my sailors and ship always received my best efforts.*
  • It prevented me from planning my pregnancy to ensure the needs of my family and the needs of the Navy would conflict to the smallest extent possible.*  **
  • It prevented me from making considered and defensible decisions about my sailors and my duties, even in high stress situations.*
  • It prevented me from achieving the required qualifications for my billet and rank, including the Enlisted Surface Warfare Specialist.*
  • It negatively affected my male shipmates' ability to perform their duties, because they were too concerned about me, delicate flower that I am.*
I propose a scientific experiment. Let's put Rick Santorum in a cage fight with any active duty military woman who is currently serving in a combat role - any service - and see how their ladybrain affects the outcome. Yeah.  

________________
*Not intended to be a factual statement.

**Why, yes, my birth control was in fact provided and paid for by the U.S. taxpayer, the entire time I was on active duty. Horrors! Communism! Socialism! Stalinism! Violation of Freedom of Religion!

Free Shit Friday Winner...

Sunday, February 12, 2012
...of the snap together Trebuchette is Thordr, with a random number of 20. 

Thordr, I'll get that in the mail when I damn well feel like it. As evidenced by the tardiness of the last trebuchette delivery.

2012 Flower Pr0n - Hawai'i!

Saturday, February 11, 2012


Free Shit Friday - Mechanicky Edition

Friday, February 10, 2012




The Mechanicky Gal is here! So to celebrate, I'm giving away another Snap Together Trebuchette from E&M Labs, makers of Siege Toys.

Because it's mechanicky, you see.

Da rules.

Completely Out of Control

Thursday, February 9, 2012
The Mechanicky Gal is coming! She's coming tonight!

That's right - it's going to be a fun filled weekend full of junk food, spa attendence and shopping.* And here is the initial haul from the grocery. Please note that other alcoholic beverages are out of frame, as they are chilling in the refrigerator.


Yes, we are completely out of control. Especially since I apparently forgot to purchase Mojito ingredients and we'll have to make an additional stop on the way home from the airport.

______________

*Except for the part where The Mechanicky Gal and I both have managed to contract some sort of bug. Stupid biology.

Finally!

Wednesday, February 8, 2012
I suspect I may be entering menopause. We will now pause so the gentlemen can run, run, run away.

I'll spare you the gory details of my symptoms, but I have to say, it's about bloody time. I've been struggling with my reproductive health for years, which has included such delights as crippling back pain, chronic anemia, and occasional insanity.

I asked my GYN to schedule a hysterectomy, but she narrow-mindedly informed me that it wasn't yet necessary and put me on mild HRT to stop my periods. But now symptoms are reappearing, and I feel like calling her and demanding, "Now? How about now? Will you rip it out NOW?"

Sista from Another Mista The Mechanicky Gal tells me that I can now blame ALL MY PROBLEMS on menopause. EVERY SINGLE ONE. Shredded tires. Sudden death. Forgetfulness. An inability to exhibit any kind of patience.

I know some women dread menopause, and consider it a burden to be managed. Me? I've been looking forward to this shit for years, years, and CAN'T WAIT.

Fitbit Review and other Fitness-Related Geekery

Tuesday, February 7, 2012
I tend towards a bit of OCD, especially as it relates to fitness and diet. I'm pretty conscientious about recording what I eat, how much I exercise, and how those things affect my body.

So when the website I use to manage those things (www.myfitnesspal.com) announced that they would now integrate with Fitbit, I decided to buy one and give it a whirl.

The device itself if very unobtrusive, and slides right onto my bra with no discomfort. This totally works for me, as I am at an age where bra usage is never, ever optional. I have no idea how secure it is when clipped to pants or a belt, although it did come with a little belt clip.

What it is
  • It's an excellent pedometer. It not only counts the number of steps you take, but also the number of stairs you climb, and reports on everything. For someone like me who loves, loves, loves to examine and manage data, this is very appealing.
  • It's a good tool to determine your daily caloric needs (exclusive of targeted aerobic exercise - more on that later). By wearing it all the time, even while sleeping, I get a much better idea of how many calories I burn on a daily basis, since it monitors and reports on my actual incidental activity. For me, this tends to be far more accurate than the Harris Benedict Equation.
  • If you need help managing your sleep, this might be helpful. After eleven years of chronic insomnia, I tend to be hyper-aware of my sleep patterns, but if you're tired and don't know why, this might help.
The Sleep Tracker from a rare night of excellent, uninterrupted sleep.
The Sleep Tracker from a more typical night.
 What it isn't
  • It's not a heart rate monitor. If your preferred aerobic activity involves anything but walking or running, this product will not give you an accurate representation of your activity. That's not necessarily a criticism - it's not what the device was designed for. But if you want an accurate measurement of what's going on with your body when you engage in non-impact aerobic exercise or strength training, you'll need to invest in a heart rate monitor, as well. Don't count on the integrated calorie counters in the machines you use, or the database values. I use the Polar FT4, but there are many affordable, accurate choices.
  • I think the food tracking component of the Fitbit website is inferior to the one I use over at MyFitnessPal. The main reason for this opinion is that MFP offers a Mobile App (rather than a mobile website), and I find the app much more user friendly and manageable. I like the daily activity reports over at Fitbit better than the ones over at MFP, though:



All in all, a worthwhile investment.

Things I (Re) Learned this Weekend

Monday, February 6, 2012
When a congregant from a Southern Baptist Church passes away, the organizational structure of the church goes into action to support the family like a well-oiled machine. This just reinforced my opinion that while I will never be able to wrap my head around the belief systems of people of faith, churches themselves are often institutions that have value from a community and support perspective. And I'm very glad that they will be there for my Uncle once the extended family has all gone home.
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I'm really, really grateful that my extended family consists of people who are anxious to support and help one another when we need it most.
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Toward the end of my Auntie's life, I became closer to her through the technology that is social networking. This makes me happy.
______________

Some people are just broken. When that's the case, the only thing for it is to forgive them the hurt their fundamental character flaw caused me, cut them from my life, and mourn the loss of the relationship.*
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My Auntie was an amazing, wonderful human being, and me and my family are still struggling with the fundamental unfairness of her early death. It's hard to understand why the universe would choose her when there are so many heinous fucksticks around who would be so much more deserving. While my intellect realizes such railing is counterproductive and has no basis in reality, it's hard to manage the emotional reaction.
______________

While I recognize that Christians believe that my Auntie's faith means that she'll receive an eternal reward, I'm happier reflecting on her remembrance as a wonderful human being due to her acts in this world. My Auntie rocked, and that's good enough for me.
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It makes me happy to have told stories and laughed until my stomach and head hurt following my Auntie's service. I'm quite sure she would have heartily approved.
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My Hot Cousins should not be allowed out without adult supervision. Yes, I am looking at you, Nanny Weezah and Escalator Girl.
______________

This is my Auntie's youngest grandchild and his fabulous mother. The youngster decided this weekend that "walking" was his new favorite method of locomotion, which reminded me that while I spent a lot of this weekend hating the circle of life, it's also the natural order of things.



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*This revelation had nothing to do with my Auntie's funeral or anyone who attended. It was an epiphany that occurred on the plane coming home.

Remembering my Auntie

Wednesday, February 1, 2012
The last time I saw her - our family reunion last year.
I can't believe you're gone.

I suppose that's always the case when someone passes away suddenly and without warning. The shock of the event hits the observers like a punch in the stomach, leaving us gasping, in pain, uncertain what to do in order to get our breath back.

So we cry, and in the tradition of our family, we cry together, because no one cries alone in our presence.

By most measures, you led a perfectly ordinary life. You married young, selecting your mate wisely and well the first time out of the gate (unlike most of the women in our family). You quickly had two children. You moved often, depending on your husband's military assignment. You participated in your community wherever you went. You gained your own professional skills.

But you were anything but ordinary.

No one told a story like you. The lines around your eyes and mouth were a testament to how often you laughed, and how joyfully. You lived a life of service, volunteering to help in your sons' school activities, teaching vacation bible school, visiting the old folks at the nursing home. You relished your role as a Grandma, rejoicing in each expansion to your family.

I remember how angry you were after 9/11. I couldn't understand it at first, until I thought about it. After a lifetime of your husband's deployments to the very region that spawned the terrorists, you saw the loss of life on that day as a loss to your family. And family meant everything to you.

Your faith was a cornerstone in your life. You took the lessons of your church to heart, trying to live your life generously, with compassion, and love. You were never sanctimonious about it, and you never made me feel like you loved me less because I didn't share your belief.

Do you remember when you told me that it's better to be kind than truthful? I do, and while I still struggle with that lesson, I try to remember it and follow your example.

Do you remember when I told you that I thought your kids had grown into fine men, and you told me that the credit was theirs and not yours? I do, and I apply that lesson with my own kids.

Do you remember when you won one of the prizes in my Summer Reading Program? You were so excited to have WON, and your enthusiasm reminded me that even the smallest victories can enhance our daily lives.

With your example, you taught me that people of good conscience can disagree about even the most fundamental things, but still remain partners in this life, supporting and loving one another as members of the same tribe. 

My heart is breaking for your family. Your husband, my beloved Uncle, married you when he was 19 years old. He's never really been an adult without you by his side, and I imagine how lost and alone he must be feeling. My cousins, both decent and good men, have lost their mother, and their children their Grandmother.

I don't know what happens to us when we die. Really, no one knows for sure. But I hope desperately that wherever you are, your light continues to shine, and you can experience peace in knowing that you've left this world in better shape than your found it. But I'm selfish enough to want you to have stayed in this world longer. We're a poorer place without you, and I will love and miss you, all the days of my life.