One of Those Nights...

Just one of those nights when I could've used a hug. Nothing wrong...things are alright...just needed a hug. However, I was cheered up by hearing John Stewart exclaim, "For fuck's sake!" on The Daily Show. And I enjoyed the interview with Bill Maher...I'll have to see if Mom is up for going to see Religulous. I could see that being a damn fun time with some of my posse in tow.

And on a side note, I really wish Times New Roman didn't exist as a font.

"Would You Rather?" - It's Funny How Things Change...

From Zobmondo:
Would you rather... always lose OR never play?

Not so long ago, I would've said I would rather always win, so I would never play. What's the point of playing if you never win? Now, I would have to say I'd rather always lose. I'm not sure if the fundamental shift in thinking is just from growing up or if it's something deeper. I enjoy challenge. I enjoy mastering things, but I enjoy trying even more. Once I master something, I don't lose interest quickly - I enjoy mastering things over and over again, and trying to make things a little more difficult to stretch my head a bit. Maybe that's why I love cooking and baking so much - I take comfort in both repeatability and improvement, and I've figured out how to make food better over the years. I'm not a master chef by any stretch, but I do make the best chocolate chip cookies ever. I love Sudoku - same premise over and over, but the skill sets evolve and the problem solving becomes more interesting as the puzzles increase in difficulty. I'm okay with being frustrated at things that ultimately don't matter. There's a part of me that likes getting lost when I'm trying to get somewhere on time. I know - livin' on the edge, but sometimes the simple little things can be the most thrilling.

Highly, highly suggestive...

I was in a funk on Thursday. I was definitely cranky, and I couldn't decide if I wanted to go to the comedy club. And that's strange for me - usually if someone mentions the comedy club, I'm one of the first to clear my schedule. But I just wasn't sure I was in the mood. After making some Kraft Mac & Cheese for dinner, I finally decided that since I was still so cranky, I really needed to go to the comedy club.

And that's where Flip Orley comes in. Connxtions billed him as a hypnotist / comedian. I didn't go with the intention of being hypnotized, but his spiel convinced me. He reassured us that we wouldn't be removing clothes or making animal noises, and that we would remember everything and be aware the entire time. So, I looked at Angela and Alex, and at the same time we threw out the infamous, "If you go up there, I'll go, too." And we actually did. But I'm pretty sure I was the only one up there who really ended up hypnotized.

At first, I was sure it wasn't working. Flip took us through a typical relaxation technique, having us focus on a crystal ball he was holding up. He had us do a few things, like raise our hands to tell him our name and, with our eyes closed, hold our right arm straight out with our hands in fists and the ability to keep our arm straight no matter what force was applied to it. Shortly thereafter, it started to get interesting. I went through feeling like I was being goosed every time Flip touched his forehead and giggling about it, holding a glass of water and not being able to drink it, and being completely offended every time he said "Ladies and Gentlemen," while telling him to apologize for being so mean to the audience.

Every time Flip counted from three to one, and had us close our eyes, I felt my chin drop to my chest and my hands unclasp. The most telling were my feet - they were crossed when I had my eyes open, but as soon as I closed my eyes, I felt that my feet were too heavy to keep crossed. I would position them on the outsides of my feet, with my soles facing each other and my sandals practically falling off, while slumped in the chair. I was aware the entire time, and it was a very surreal and fun experience. Runs With Spatula snapped a few pictures on Angela's camera, and each showed how completely under I really was.

I haven't laughed so hard in a long time - my cheeks hurt for hours afterward. I did feel like a circus freak after, as we had a drink at the bar in the comedy club, and I felt many people staring at me from across the room. The emcee for the evening came up and chatted with us on his way out, and commented on how entertaining I was. I am seriously reconsidering a career as a professional laugher.

I did experience a little sense of pride for being open enough to the experience to get so much out of it. I highly recommend giving it a try - as long as I get to be in the audience!

Seriously, PETA...WTF?

PETA wrote a letter to Ben & Jerry's encouraging them to switch from using cow milk to human milk. PETA's position is that a Swiss restauranteur has pledged to switch to 75% human milk, so Ben & Jerry's should, too. Now, you all know how much I love the lefties. But I see a few problems with this:

1. Ben & Jerry's is pretty granola-hippie to begin with. Yes, they get their cow milk from a cooperative creamery. They do not use milk from cows given the recombinant bovine growth hormone (rBGH). I'm sure they seem like a likely candidate to begin milking women to make Cherry Garcia. But PETA, pick on someone who's not doing any good! Both Ben and Jerry are reportedly trying to do what's right for their company, employees and community - the epitome of good corporate citizens.

2. PETA's letter states that cows would have a better life if they weren't forced to get pregnant, give birth and be milked for several years. Wouldn't a woman's life be better, too, if she weren't subjected to what a cow goes through? Save the cows; punish the women. I'm sure you are all now picturing postpartum women on all fours in a barn having automatic milkers hooked up to their very full breasts...now let me ask you, PETA - are they smiling? I think not. I'll admit I believe people rank higher in the hierarchy of life. I know it's unpopular, because many of you have told me it is, but if I have a chance to save my nephew or his dog, I'm saving my nephew. He can get a new dog later. And those of you who would choose the opposite may want to consider re-evaluating what's really important, and consider if you truly understand what a human connection actually is (that's the nicest way I could say that!).

3. Now, consider the math. On average, a woman produces 800 mL of milk daily. Less than one liter in one day. A cow can produce around 5 gallons per day. Let me do the conversion for you: that's almost 19,000 mL. Divide that by 800 mL, and you would need (rounding up, of course) 24 lactating women to replace one cow. Yep, 24. Does that sound reasonable?

4. Finally, let's talk quality control. Let's assume that the taste of the milk is impacted by the subject's diet. I'm pretty sure the cows are fed uniform, strict diets. Who is going to dictate to postpartum women what to eat? Seriously? And frankly, I wouldn't be the first person to stand in their way if they wanted to deviate from their diet. However, I also don't want my Chubby Hubby ice cream compromised by Jolene's curry craving or Maggie's garlic fix.

PETA, I agree that animals should be treated ethically. But don't you think people should be, too?

NPR and Ear Porn

I was driving to the Novi-Farmington area on Saturday, and happened to listen to NPR for part of the drive. I normally listen to music - CDs from Lansing until Brighton, and Detroit radio from Brighton to Novi. But I heard a little teaser that kept me tuned to NPR - it was about Q-Tips, and why it feels "soooo good" to clean your ears. Now, this normally might pique my interest a bit, but I would likely have gotten bored of listening to commercials and would've turned the station and would've forgotten to turn it back to NPR in time for the Q-Tip story. But the teaser indicated the radio personality really, REALLY liked shoving Q-Tips in her ears...maybe a little too much. I felt a little dirty just listening to the teaser. And I became interested in the scientific explanation for the joy one experiences when cleaning one's ears. My guess: nerve endings in the ear somehow connect to the "pleasure centers" in the brain, perhaps releasing endorphines...or something along those lines. And so I kept listening.

I'll be the first to admit that I clean my ears with Q-Tips every morning and every time after I swim. I keep it contained to the outer ear, and usually use the Q-Tip to absorb water that may be in my ears. That being said, I've not derived any intense pleasure from said cleaning. Maybe I've had poor penetration - perhaps I haven't shoved the Q-Tip in quite far enough into the ear canal to experience the exquisite joy the radio host seems to experience, as she asked the otologist why it felt "soooo goood" to stick that little cotton-covered stick in there several times.

The otologist went on to explain that there are in fact many nerve endings in the ear that connect to other parts of the body. He described how during the Roman orgies (not just the sex, but food, too), it was common to have vomitoriums, and a way to induce vomiting was to tickle the ear canal with a feather (ewww...). Obviously, once the Romans emptied their stomachs, they went back for more! But never once did the otologist actually explain why it seems to feel "soooo goood" to shove a Q-Tip in your ear. There was no discussion of neuropathways, pleasure centers, electrical stimuli, endorphines...just a little talk about Romans vomiting. Well, NPR, it's going to be very difficult to believe your teasers in the future!

Joe's Gizzard City

Sweet Jesus. If I can survive a "meal" at Joe's, nothing will kill me. It's all fried. Except the beer, which is lovingly served in Mason jars. Runs With Spatula arranged a trip to Joe's, the only Gizzard City in the world, located in scenic Potterville, MI. After eating there, I can see why there's not a need for a gizzard stand in every town. Certainly, you shouldn't eat there more than once a year if you're healthy. If you have a history of cardiac incidences, you shouldn't even go near Potterville, for fear of not being able to resist the pull of everything you can imagine being deep-fried.

We passed several appetizers among the six of us who seem to have a whole lot of confidence in our arteries and robust digestive tracts. I found the gizzards and Sweet Corn Nuggets to be particularly delicious and addicting. For a main course, I moved on to the small unfried section of the menu for a steak sandwich, which hit the spot. Runs With Spatula, Sheryl and I split a dessert combo. I think there were about seven different batter-fried creations, but I would've been happy with just the Nutter Butters and the Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. Seriously, the whole experience was disgusting...but so, so good.

And just a side note - the service was fantastic. Our waitress was very patient, helpful and accomodating. She even questioned how much we tipped her (a little over 20% on a rather large tab altogether), and was concerned that the food went to our heads, impairing our mathematical abilities. We told her it was dead on, and that we appreciated her great service.

All in all, it was a great evening - good but disgusting food, great service, and even better company! We'll see how the fried-food hangover treats me tomorrow!

Things I Learned This Weekend...

I went to Lapeer this weekend to spend time with my family to honor my uncle who died in July. The entire Michigan contingent was there - all 18 of us. We were just missing my aunt and her husband (it's hard to call him my uncle - he's husband #3, and I think I've met him maybe twice since 1996, when my grandparents died), who live in Las Vegas.

So, what did I learn? First and foremost, if I never go to another funeral, I'll be a happier person. My family opted not to go through the torture of a funeral service, and instead decided to pick a date everyone could commit to and just spend some time together. We went out to dinner (yeay - nobody had to cook!) at a fantastic seafood restaurant, and followed it up with game night at my cousin Debbie's house. We got to spend time as a family, reminiscing, looking at pictures, playing games, talking...instead of trying to entertain well-wishers and sympathizers while in the prime of our grief. What a concept! I also learned that pretty much everyone's wishes are to continue this new tradition, and to avoid funerals altogether. My aunt asked how I felt about not having funerals for mom and dad (assuming they go first), and I told her it was a relief. I think my past funeral experiences made the grief process much more difficult and raw.

I also learned that mom's love is unconditional, especially when I decide to flip out and melt down, and all of this even before our memorial celebration. I knew her love was unconditional to begin with, but forcing her to prove it made me realize again that she's more than happy to walk the walk, for which I'm grateful.

I also realized new empathy for my cousin, Lynn. I'm not the only one in my family to seriously question our Catholic upbringing. She has stuck with the religion, unlike my siblings and I. We had an interesting discussion about the upcoming election, and lack of separation between church / religion and the political process. I found it interesting that Lynn brought up religious freedom as one of the reasons for the founding of our country. She recognizes this as being important, but doesn't seem to be able to realize that she has that same freedom. My aunt and uncle chose for her to be Catholic, but that doesn't mean she has to continue on that path. I know her belief in God is strong, and she seems to want to have a church where she feels at peace, but she hasn't looked beyond Catholic churches to find this comfort and community she seems to be longing for. I really look forward to talking to her about this more in the future, as religion seems to come up at every get-together. I think I want to challenge her to pick a new church with a different religion to try every few months to see if a little spiritual exploration will help. Yes, I know - this is all coming from the owner of Jeez-Its, Lookin' Good for Jesus lip balm, and a Jesus action figure - not exactly holy relics by any stretch. But I really do respect her beliefs, and wish for her to find what she seems to want so badly.

All in all, it was an emotionally draining few days...I'm glad they're over, but I know I'll be replaying this in my head for a while...

Yup, I Read.

I'm a cyclical reader. Summertime is when I tend to catch up on books I've been meaning to read (namely those on my own bookshelves). So here's a quick synopsis of a few of my literary adventures:

Moose by Stephanie Klein
Were you fat as a child? Do you have mom-issues? If not, you may really find it difficult to relate to this memoir. It's about a woman's journey at fat camp. She takes some poetic license and condenses several summer's trips into one. She covers everything from attending diet meetings at a very young age to romance at fat camp to a brush with bulimia to having her obstetrician tell her to gain 50 pounds or lose her in-utero twins. She delves into issues with her mother's lack of love and affection. I'm so used to reading novels where most issues like this are wrapped up in a neat little bow and resolved at the end, and found I had to remind myself that that's not the case with memoirs. This was an interesting read. I entered into it thinking, "I've been fat all my life, I should be able to relate to this," but found I really didn't. I've never been bulimic, I have a great relationship with my mom, and food's not my enemy (though I may benefit from believing it is...). If anything, it reminded me that I often find I feel like the great outlier.

Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea by Chelsea Handler
There's nothing quite like a camping trip with a Chelsea Handler book. Like when I read Wanda Sykes' book, since I watch Chelsea, as I was reading the book, I could hear her voice in my head. Not in a schizophrenic way, but more like she was telling me the stories herself. The book is a collection of essays, ranging in experiences in childhood (lying about starring in a movie with Goldie Hawn) to adulthood (smoking pot in Costa Rica to be able to deal with her father, who she took there on a two-week vacation). It's a light, easy read - easy to pick up and put down and pick back up again. It's not earth-shattering, and it's not a classic by any stretch, but it was enjoyable. I found myself laughing out loud more than once, and will probably make time to read it again.

A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore
This was recommended to me by one of my friends who doesn't read very much. I attribute that to Bucky working on her Master's, which she finished last year. I think when you work full-time and go to school at least part-time, it's hard to want to read much outside of that. But one of her friends turned her onto Christopher Moore, and I dare say I wouldn't want to stand between her and one of his books - I've never seen her read so voraciously! She finished this book before the end of our first camping trip, and she passed it along to me. I took it to England with me, and finished it while I was there. I don't want to reveal much about the book, because you really should just read it - it was good enough that I've already purchased as a gift for my sister-in-law. It's dark, disturbing, and plays with the supernatural, including Death, quite a bit. It's snarky. It's hilarious. And it would make a great movie.

But Enough About Me: How a Small-Town Girl Went from Shag Carpet to the Red Carpet by Jancee Dunn
Jancee writes for, among other things, Rolling Stone. This book is a memoir (anyone see a theme here!?) about how she got there, and her experiences once she did. Jancee stumbles upon her dream job while at a crazy party in New Jersey. She talks about how to interview celebrities successfully (never at a restaurant, and go to movies being filmed on location if possible), some of her favorite interviews (no shock - Dolly Parton!), and introduces readers to her not-so-dysfunctional-but-still-interesting family. There is the often-included quest-for-love story, as well. After reading it, I felt the urge to look at some back issues of Rolling Stone to read her articles...but I haven't quite gotten there yet!

Love is a Mixed Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time by Rob Sheffield
This is another memoir by another Rolling Stone writer, and frequent personality on E! and VH-1; I couldn't resist this book. I so related to a lot of the music Rob references in the book, and appreciate the idea of personal soundtracks at different points in your life. The book chronicles Rob finding his true love, settling into marriage, only to have his wife die very suddenly, in his arms. He walks the readers through his grief process, and his pain is almost palpable. It's short and quick, but not so light.

In progress:
1984 by George Orwell
I first read this in 8th grade English with Mrs. So-and-so...I think her last name started with an A, but I'm not about to go digging through a box in a closet to find my old yearbook. So Sara, when you read this, let me know what the heck her name was! I remember vividly reading this book the first time around, and though I didn't finish this in time for book club, I've resolved to finish it by the end of the year. It's not going to take me the 6 or 7 years I've been reading Solzhenitsyn's Cancer Ward (does it count if you haven't picked the book up in at least 3 or 4 of those years?). I've been enjoying rediscovering this one...

Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books by Azar Nafisi
I've been reading this on and off since the beginning of summer. It's deep to the point of being subterranean, and I can only handle so much at a time. So far, I find the author a bit repetitive and disjointed. I'm probably about 2/3 done, so we'll see what the rest has to offer...

Things I've Been Meaning to Blog About: Rori Raye

Somehow, I ended up on an email list for Rori Raye, author of the "Have the Relationship You Want" e-newsletter. I honestly don't know how I could've possibly signed up for this (or perhaps I didn't - my friend Sara ended up on the Republican National Committee mailing list, and certainly didn't sign up for it, and now she can't get her name off of it), but after reading it a few times, I find that there's no way I can unsubscribe. Rori Raye is the Sarah Palin of relationship advice, and it's a train wreck from which I can't tear myself away.

Case in point: "Doggie Treat Voice." Apparently, if I'm "frustrated, upset and angry" because my man is "totally clueless" or he's "depriving of affection, attention and happiness ON PURPOSE," I should use the "Doggie Treat" voice. The quick version I could glean from this is that if you find that you're not getting what you want from your man, you should:
1. Make your request
2. Evaluate his responsiveness
3. If said request is ignored or remains unfulfilled, assess your request for your tone (if he said this to you, how would you take it?)
4. Modify the manner in which you make your request in order to achieve your desired outcome, with apparently no regard to his wants or needs

This is a surprisingly neutral assessment for me to make, given that this "tool" is presented as follows:
1. Men can sense complaint from a mile away
2. Men tune you out if you complain
2.1 If you complain, the man has "the power" in the relationship

Upon identifying the above issue, stop and realize:
3. You are the man's reward for making you happy
4. You, woman, must retake "the power," assuming you ever had it to begin with

Once you realize this:
5. Your tone will change (as shown by: "your voice is the sound of a dog owner holding a delicious doggie treat and saying "Here, Boy...."")
6. Your man will respond, because men are like dogs in the following ways (yes, I swear this is in the article):
a. Dogs work for treats
b. Dogs work for pats on the head and tummy rubs
c. "Dogs hear words, but what they listen to is their SENSE of WHO HAS THE POWER."
d. "They KNOW that the creature with the food has the Power."

And finally, my favorite quote:
"And guess what - YOU are the food for your man."

Well, I guess that's true if you're lucky! (Yes, my mind is happily residing in the gutter - please don't encourage it to find another home! The gutter is well-decorated, and has a nice, homey feel to it!)

Can you see why I can't stop reading this tripe?

Things I've Been Meaning to Blog About: The Sock

I had a particular conversation with Sara a few weeks ago that went a little like this:

Carrie: So what's going on?

Sara: I'm looking for the remote for the DVD player so Kim (Sara's sister-in-law, who was visiting from Minnesota) can watch a movie.

Carrie: No idea where it is?

Sara: No...it's probably with all of the other remotes we lose.

Carrie: Maybe the cat is revolting and took it.

Sara: I don't think so - no opposable thumbs.

Carrie: True. Maybe it's with the infamous sock that disappears somewhere between the washer and the dryer.

Sara: The mismatched sock? Yeah, we have a pile of those, too!

Carrie: Sometimes I feel like a mismatched sock.

Sara: Really?

Carrie: Yeah. Maybe not a mismatched sock, but a sock missing its mate. Maybe I got lost somewhere between the washer and dryer.

Sara: I think your sock mate will show up. What kind of sock would you be?

Carrie: Definitely not a toe sock. I hate having things between my toes. It creeps me out. And not a tube sock.

Sara: Well, you wouldn't be a slouchy sock. How about leg warmers? They're almost like socks, but not really since they don't have feet. Do you remember the crazy colors?

Carrie: And the sparkles. I don't know. I was never fond of leg warmers.

Sara: Hmmm.

Carrie: Yeah, I have no idea what kind of sock I would be. Weird.

I've Caught Up

I did not watch any of the Democratic National Convention. And having missed out on media for almost a week, and walking back to hear of Sarah Palin being named as John McCain's running mate, I was inspired to watch the Republican National Convention happenings this evening. I missed the early speeches, as I was recommitting to water aerobics (yes, I know at least one or two of you is thinking "sea cows" right now, and probably feeling guilty about it, but don't, since I put that thought in your heads, and it's a hard thought to banish) with Jaimie and Felicity, and didn't get home until just before 10pm. That did put me in front of the television in time to see Guiliani, Palin, the roll call of the states, and the opportunity to catch some of the aftermath coverage by C-SPAN.

I am happy to report that I am still quite relaxed after my recent vacation. As such, I was easily able to avoid being irascible, and took the tact that I would simply sit back and chuckle, and enjoy the circus unfolding before me. Giuliani portrayed the usual smugness I expect from him, and I found myself shaking my head, thinking "what a schmuck," especially when he began talking about September 11 and the democrats' lack of acknowledgement of the events that day and the ensuing "war on terror."

Then, it was on to Palin. Sexist, perhaps? I enjoyed her introduction of her family, particularly the way she attempted to ingratiate herself to the convention by insisting her family is just like mine. I'm pretty sure that's not the case. I have to say that at 33, I am my parents' last hold-out for an out-of-wedlock pregnancy. Mom & Dad - there's still time! I'll try to get working on that... I also enjoyed the pledge to cut taxes without addressing the infamous war-induced deficit. But my all time favorite part of her speech was when she likened herself (and other hockey moms) to a dog. Seriously, as an independent woman and a feminist, I implore you, Sarah, to avoid referring to my sisters as bitches.

Did you catch the "entertainment" at the end? Gretchen Wilson, some Cowboy guy, and some other country & western yahoo did a bizarre medley of The Star Spangled Banner and the Pledge of Allegiance, ending in a whole lot of off-key screaching at the end, which was eclipsed only by the volume of my laughter. If you turned your television off before that, you really missed out on the one short segment that seemed representative of the entire evening's events.

For me, the evening was filled with text messages back and forth with friends, two of whom suggested I must be masochistic for being so drawn to the RNC. Well, call a spade a spade, I always say. Masochistic, I am! And I enjoyed every second of the RNC this evening for the complete fucking mess it was. Thanks to John and Sarah for reaffirming my vote! See, some good can come of all of this!

Things I've Been Meaning to Blog About: Gifts From Friends

My friends love me

This I know

For my Jesus paraphrenalia

Tells me so!

It started with a trip to a baseball game. One of Angela's co-workers organized a beer bus to a Tigers' game. It sounded magical, so I immediately signed up. After we loaded onto the bus, Angela and Eric presented me with a beautiful gift - Jeez-Its. Yes, it's styled after a box of Cheez-Its, but it's better! It's a delightful book of inspirational sticky notes. Just in case I'm having a lapse in morals, I can whip out my Jeez-Its to help me question my decisions. One style has check boxes to help me reason through my choices, and include:

Would Jesus Do It? (check one of the following)

-Yes

-No

-Maybe

-Hell No

Then there is a spot to assess, Would I Do It?

-Yes

-No

-God Knows

And there is a general sticky note, with Jesus' caucasian likeness almost giving a peace sign, with a subtle WWJD? at the top.

Then, just a scant week-and-a-half later, Joel and Renee came to town from Chicago to meet up to travel to Canada. And what did Renee have in her purse for me? Lookin' Good for Jesus Virtuous Vanilla Lip Balm. It indiactes I should Get Tight With Christ and Be Worthy and Be Noticed. Plus, it's SPF 18! And the back of the package lets me know my new lip balm has the ability to Return Lips to Near Virgin Quality! Thank goodness - my lips were feeling quite heathen.

I so appreciate these treasures, and the thoughtfulness behind them! I know they will find a place of honor in my home, maybe near my Jesus Action Figure and Liberace Bobblehead. Sincere thanks to Angela, Eric, Renee and Joel!

Ahhhh...Canada!

I can't say much more than the trip was fabulous. No television, no telephone, no internet...no worries. My friend Joel's grandparents bought property on Horn Lake in Sundridge, Ontario - several hours north of Toronto, near the Georgian Bay. They built a small cabin - the 3 bedrooms have privacy walls only, meaning no ceilings. There is a living room, sun porch, and kitchen complete with a wood-burning stove and hand pump for water, as there is no running water. That's right - we use an outhouse and bathe in the rock-lined, spring-fed lake, ranked as one of Ontario's cleanest!

Our first day was gloomy at best - the sun never made a true appearance, and the temperature was on the cool side, which made it a perfect day for our chore - chopping wood. Jamey found the tree that had been cut down for us. Our duties were simple - chop & stack the wood. It sounds simple, but was quite the orchestration, despite us having this down to a science by now. The short version:

1- Using a chainsaw, cut the tree into manageable sections not more than 13.5" long (anything longer can't fit in the stove).

2- Haul said sections of tree to the splitting area near the woodpile. Yes, this means lugging and / or wheelbarrowing large sections of tree trunk through the woods - can you imagine?

3- Split the wood using an axe an / or maul.

4- Stack the wood.

I have been an integral part of the stacking team for the last two years. This year, Jamey taught me how to use the chainsaw. I felt so bad ass. I have to admit, I didn't realize what hard work using a chainsaw can be - it takes a definite technique, and great patience (not always my strong suit). I enjoyed it immensely, and I think Jamey was happy to have a bit of a break from being the lone chainsaw guy this year.

Our other adventures included overfeeding our chipmunk friends. They are very tame, to the point of hopping on our laps while looking for peanuts, which we gladly give to them. I have no idea how much food chipmunks require. I do, in my heart of hearts, believe we succeeded in stockpiling them until we return next year.

We also managed several safe trips in the boat, known as the Saf-T-Mate. In years past, we thought it was a great idea to throw two extra chairs in the boat to transport everyone together. This resulted in everyone having to rush to the front of the boat to get it to plane properly, as well as the inability to travel at slow rates of speed, as the boat would take in copious amounts of water, causing frantic bailing. We're getting older - we decided to shuttle a few of us at a time to our destinations. We have also discovered that changing the spark plugs each year helps the motor run much more efficiently - go figure! We took the boat to Eagle Point, a local hangout for boaters, as there are a few great jumping rocks. Our favorite has a nice ledge with enough room for five of us, a cooler and a few chairs. The jumping rock from the water doesn't look too intimidating - it's about a 15-foot cliff. However, standing at the edge is another story. I made the jump again this year, and loved it. From feeling my heart race even while getting ready to jump to actually flying through the air, waiting to hit the water, was a complete and total rush. We encountered about six other groups of jumpers during our day on the rock, and everyone was friendly and fun. There is a cliff much higher up that people jump from, but not one in our group was willing, as it requires a substantial running start to clear some of the rocks jutting out, and is probably closer to a 30-foot drop. Again, with age comes wisdom (and Mom, I know you're happy to know that I have a little restraint!).

Renee and I also made the swim across our part of the lake to the island across the way. In the foreground of the picture, you can see a white ladder, which is just in front of the cabin. The island is in the very background of the picture. I don't have a good estimate on the distance, and the time it took doesn't help estimate, either, as lake swimming is so different than pool swimming. But, if I had to guess, I would say it's at least 500 yards one way. We had a boater stop along the way to make sure we weren't shipwrecked, as apparently, Canadians think it's "loony" to swim across a very still lake with not much boating action. He did chat with us about politics and the state of the American economy (the exchange is as bad for them as it is for us, was the claim).

And finally, in the grand tradition of cooking in a wood-burning oven, I mixed up a batch cookie dough. I didn't realize exactly how hot the oven was when I put in the first batch. Jamey is proudly displaying the results of having the cookies in the oven for about 4 minutes (as opposed to the usual 11). Yes, there's my first pan of burnt cookies. And not just a little overdone - actual burnt, charcoal-laden cookies. It was sad indeed. After letting the oven cool down for a few hours, Jamey threw the next pan in, and we had great success.

All in all, the trip was fantastic. I have the usual bumps, bruises, scrapes and bug bites (the mosquitoes were horrendous!), but I already can't wait to go back again next year!

A Week With No Media...What Could I Have Missed?

I guess I'll start by vowing that I already know who I am voting for in the upcoming Presidential election. As such, I haven't been as concerned about missing all of the convention coverage over the last week and a half. Why, you ask? Don't you want to be politically aware?? Of course I do. Let me start with last week...

After a weekend spent camping, followed by a Monday afternoon / night adventure in a beer bus that conveniently took me to and from a Tiger's game (surrounded mainly by democrats, mind you), a Tuesday of I don't know what (sleep and laundry, perhaps), and a Wednesday of dinner & trivia with Angela and Eric, followed by picking up a 15-passenger van, dropping off a letter to Sheryl (we met at Panera in Frandor, where I conveniently "parked" by pulling in perpendicularly to three spots just so I wouldn't have to put the van in reverse) and having Joel and Renee arrive from Chicago to spend the night before heading to Canada, I just didn't manage to squeeze in much time for politics. My bad.

I left for Canada last Thursday morning. We have no media access there - no television, no newspaper (by choice), no cell phone signals. Our music is mainly provided by ipods. While most people I know would go into convulsions at the mere thought, let alone the reality, I embrace this time so much. I didn't completely avoid political talk - among the group of five who made the trip, we had several discussions about politics. When Renee and I made the daily trip into town for supplies, we stopped to buy blueberries and maple syrup from the old guy in the parking lot of the auto parts store. He has his stand in the same parking lot each year, and is one of the sweetest men ever! Upon hearing our incredibly strong accents, he engaged us in a little discussion, and upon hearing our lefty leanings, praised us for our views. He also commented that the US and Canada need to act as one country and stop taxing each other (okay?!?). Later that day, as Renee and I were swimming across the lake and back, we had a boater stop to see if we were okay. And he, upon hearing our incredibly strong accents, also asked what we thought about the upcoming election. We chatted with him for a bit while treading water in the middle of the lake, and were both struck by the notion that if most Americans stumbled upon some Canadians in the US, the Americans wouldn't have the first clue as to Canadian politics (me included!). Yet the Canadians are overwhelmingly informed on the happenings in the States. Perhaps Canada needs a little more drama.

So, upon returning home, I returned calls from Mom and my brother, Jamie. Mom filled me in on McCain's running mate by telling me she's a mother of five, has a newborn with Down's Syndrome, an 18-year old heading to Iraq, and an unmarried pregnant 17-year old, apparently confirming that her abstinance policies aren't followed at home. I don't remember the details about the other two children. After an hour on the phone with my family, I finally turned on the TV to none other than the 11pm airing of the Daily Show, complete with coverage of the RNC! So after almost a week with no media whatsoever, I am feeling a bit overwhelmed. I know I'll get back into the swing of things and catch up on some of what I've missed (starting with a lot of blog-reading, I'm sure!). But man, it was nice to get away from it for a while!