Media-crity

I had an errand to run this morning that took me through Bushnell Park. It was fairly early in the day, around 10:30, and there were groups of kids from a day care/day camp running around playing. It made me sort of nostalgic for my days working in daycare. I remembered the feeling of being the luckiest person ever to be getting paid to sit outside on such a perfect day, the feeling of panic when one or two stubborn little ones would wander away from the pack, the feeling of just really wanting to take a nap on the grass …

Anyway, it reminded me of one of my favorite day care stories. My aunt owned a day care in Hoboken, NJ through most of my growing-up years, and my cousin and I would “work” there during school breaks, mostly assisting teachers with naptime, etc. One summer, however, I was a FT employee living in Hoboken. It was heaven. Everything in Hoboken is within walking distance, including any manner of transportation to NYC. The daycare closed at 6:30, so there was plenty of time afterward to walk around, shop, meet friends for dinner, and such. There were also a good 5 large parks crammed into Hoboken’s one square mile, so every day we’d take the kids to a park and rotate which ones they went to so they wouldn’t get bored.

On particularly hot days, we’d take them to First Street, which was a park that jutted out on the river and had spectacular views of Manhattan. It also had a fountain that came right out of the ground for the kids to cool off in. This particular day, we had taken the kids to the fountain park, they were running in and out of the water, playing games, splashing, just being kids. We had one particularly difficult child with severe ADD with us. He had just started that week and was testing the boundaries. Medication time came for this child while we were at the park and he wanted NO part of stopping playtime to go take a pill. So, he ran into the middle of the fountain and refused to come out. The other teachers and I all looked at each other, not sure what to do. I took a deep breath and ran into the middle of the fountain and dragged the kid out. He was so shocked that I had come after him that he didn’t put up a fight. I was drenched. It was the middle of the work day and I was looking for all the world like a drowned rat. Fortunately, though, since I lived in Hoboken, I was able to walk/drip/squish my way home and change.

Sometimes, when I’m at my desk and it’s 80 and sunny and blue skied out, I miss my day care job. I do enjoy the security of getting dressed in the morning and knowing that my clothes will most likely make it through the day without getting fruit punch, popsicle juice, or mud on them. I do enjoy the ready access to email, and the ability to leave my desk to use the restroom or get a drink when I want to. Sometimes, though, on days like today, I remember how it was to feel so lucky to be able to just be outside on days like today.

In the past few years, these are some of the mistaken-age mishaps I’ve encountered:

–The usual being carded for alcohol
–Being carded for buying scratch-off lotto tickets
–Being carded for using a credit card because I “didn’t look old enough”
–Being carded for an R-rated movie
–Being asked by D.A.R.E. representatives if my “school” had their program and if I was interested in learning more about it
–The woman I got into the fender-bender with this weekend was in all likelihood assuming that I was 16 or so and could not possibly own my car

There are more I can’t think of right now.

Sigh. It’s getting really old (rimshot), but makes for some great stories. I guess.

Jimmy with a water bottle
Originally uploaded by Flannabelle.

This is young James on his big day out. Jimmy belongs to my friend Amanda, of Me, My Dogs, My Life fame. Really I’m just using Jimmy to test out blogging from Flickr. Isn’t he cute, though? He had a blast swimming in the river and chasing his new ladyfriend, Molly (who belongs to my friend Lisa of The LisaGaumond.com Blog). Sadly, however, Young James sadly experienced the bitter taste of unrequited love.

I’m going to need to find a picture of Jimmy’s brother, Junior, to make this all equal.

Lisa is the craftiest crafty person I know. She knits! She makes jewelry! She cooks! She bakes! She draws! She’s a master mixologist! She slices, she dices, and she doesn’t break a sweat!

What else can she do? Well, she can celebrate a birthday like nobody’s business. Here she is with a funny bird. Oh, and Luke.

I knew I needed a new mix to celebrate the new season and the new sunshine! Halfway through I had an overwhelming urge to watch Dirty Dancing, so that soundtrack snuck in here toward the end. And I just. can’t. stop. listening to Jesse Malin.

1. Twilight Creeps - Crooked Fingers
2. Your Little Hoodrat Friend - The Hold Steady
3. Downliner - Jesse Malin
4. Change Your Mind - The Killers
5. Girl Like That - Matchbox Twenty
6. Blister in the Sun - Violent Femmes
7. Gone Daddy Gone - Violent Femmes
8. California Love - Tupac & Dr. Dre
9. Bananza (Belly Dancer) - Akon
10. Gold Digger - Kanye West, feat. Jaime Foxx
11. Objection (Tango) - Shakira
12. Senorita - Justin Timberlake
13. I’m On Fire - Bruce Springsteen
14. You Make Loving Fun - Fleetwood Mac
15. Joking - Indigo Girls
16. Lola - The Kinks
17. Can’t Get You Off My Mind - Lenny Kravitz
18. Mysterious Ways - U2
19. Some Kind of Wonderfun - The Drifers
20. Hungry Eyes - Eric Carmen

0527061556.jpg
Originally uploaded by Flannabelle.

Blah. This is why I hate parking lots. The other car is fine. The other driver also didn’t believe that I was giving my own name and that the car was indeed mine. Jerks.

Any insurance experts out there? I have some questions.

I love poetry.

Two tests one post
Originally uploaded by Flannabelle.

testing the flickr photo blogging right from my phone and how i’d look if i got contacts!

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

By a huge margin of 85% to 14%, moveon.org members voted to support Ned Lamont over Joe Lieberman in the August 8 primary for Connecticut’s U.S. Senate seat. Woohoo!

Now for MoveOn to work their magic … eeeeexcellent …

This is my list of five. It’s a little something some of my friends and I do. The concept is similar to the Friends episode where Ross makes his list of five people he could have a no-strings-attached, no-questions-asked fling with and he laminates it and then he meets Isabella Rosselini. If you haven’t seen it, it won’t make much sense. Anyway, we keep these lists and talk about them everytime we get together (see: Girls Nights) and sometimes fight over who gets to have who on their list (we really strive to avoid overlap, because that could get ugly). Occasionally, we update them. Last night during the Lost finale, I decided that I might like to have Henry Ian Cusick, the actor playing Desmond, on mine. This lead me to reconsider my whole list and update it. So without further adieu …

1. Dan Abrams, host of MSNBC’s The Abrams Report.

Dan has a permanent spot on my list. He’s been there since the beginning. He’s smart, he’s sarcastic, he’s funny, he’s compassionate, he’s … dreeeaaaaaaaaaamy … I mean, how could you read something like the Dan’s Under a Decade Fans and not be completely charmed?

2. Henry Ian Cusick, Desmond on Lost

Desmond is a new addition. He’s cute and he has a charming accent. What more can I say?

3. Rob Thomas, singer and frontman of Matchbox Twenty

I’m keeping Rob on here even though I hate his crewcut. Hate. He just seems so down to earth and friendly (and I’ve heard that from someone who’s actually spoken to him!) I’d listen to him read me the phone book.

4. Eddie Vedder, singer and Pearl Jam frontman

Now I can tolerate Eddie’s short hair. Something about his intensity and passion is so attractive. I’d probably buy a swimsuit in Iceland from him. He’s fallen off and reappeared on my list a few times, but he’s always on my radar and I never stop loving the music.

5. Milo Ventimiglia, Jess on Gilmore Girls

I actually think this is a case of me loving the character more than the actor, simply because I don’t know much about the actor. However, he’s still really cute, and he’s the one that gives Jess-the-character life and depth. I have never wanted to be a TV character so badly.

So this Gnarls Barkley fellow (oops, I have been corrected by reading a review) duo I’ve heard so much about has done a cover of the Violent Femmes’ “Gone Daddy Gone.” First of all, strange strange choice. Second, not sure how I feel about that. The only review I’ve found of that particular track online describes it as “zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.” That doesn’t bode well for a reinterpretation of one of my favorite dance-in-my-chair songs.

Anyone else wanna weigh in before I suck it up and listen to a sample?

Gnarls Barkley aside, the Violent Femmes version is so going on my next mix CD.

Edited to add: Okay, I just checked out a sample and itunes and it’s … okay. It’s inoffensive enough. There’s some cool percussion underneath it, but for the most part, it’s thin and lacks the substance and heft of the Violent Femmes version. Eh.

I now officially hate New Britain. I spent three days there Friday night.

My fiance is in a show, Loot at the Hole in the Wall Theater in New Britain. It opened on Friday and I, being the wonderful fiancee I am, was going to go. We drove out to the theater, dropped him off, and I headed off to Target with clear directions back to the theater. I shopped, I got in the car, I headed back for the theater, I … got lost. For three hours. I spent three hours driving in circles around New Britain. I got near the theater, but not close enough to actually find it. Not even my mother, with three maps open on her computer, could get me there. I made another concrete scrape mark on the bumper (it matches the one I made when I backed into a fountain. Yeah.) Still, no theater. I gave up, found a Walgreens, and sat in the parking lot reading. I set out again for the theater, this time sure I knew where I was going. I got lost. Again. There were tears, and phone calls, and attempts by Loot’s cast to get me to the theater. Then, as though I had conjured it up by sheer will, a sign for 9! I got on 9, and with some phone direction, arrived at the theater in 5 minutes.

I have never felt so stupid in my life. I swear the streets in that city change when you’re not looking. I’d be on one street, turn on another to turn around, and I’d be back out on a new street. Certainly didn’t help that it was dark and rainy and visibility was spotty at best. Oh, yeah, and that intersection with the stop signs in the middle of two of the lanes didn’t help.

I ask you, Nutmeggers, am I crazy or is there just something about New Britain that turns it into a black hole?

I swear I’m to make it to a performance or two before the run is up. I’m not driving alone, though. Hell no. I’ll go with Nate, or I’ll go with my mom and her GPS unit. I’m no fool.

Pat Seremet, the Hartford Courant’s (locally, at least) famous Java column reporter died yesterday. Here’s the story from the Courant. Not much else can be said that hasn’t already been said. She really did make Hartford feel like a cooler, hipper place than it gets credit for. If you were throwing a party downtown, you wanted Pat there. If you were going to a party downtown, you wanted Pat there. It really was an interesting phenomenon to watch people flock to her, practically engulfing her at times. If you wanted to find her, you looked for the flash of red in the center of a cluster of revelers. People wanted to talk to her. Hell, even President Gerald Ford couldn’t resist her. Check out Colin McEnroe’s funny and touching blog post.

The local downtown social scene will certainly be quieter, and it’ll be hard to get used to not seeing her red hair from across the room. I can only imagine what her family and friends must be feeling right now.

My thoughts are with her family, and her coworkers down at the Courant.

I stayed home sick from work today. I wasn’t coughing, I wasn’t sneezing, there isn’t a pile of used tissues next to the couch. I don’t look sick at all. But I wasn’t faking.

I have arthritis. Despite what you may think, I’m not “too young.” I wish I was, but the fact of the matter is, I’m going on 10 years with this.

I took a shower last night, as usual, and when I stepped out everything started to go downhill. My knees were swollen and slightly bruised-looking. The balls of my feet gave the occasional shock of pain, causing me to yelp involuntarily. I tried to go to bed, but instead I tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position that didn’t result in squiggles of pain across my lower back. I gave up, took a pain pill, and managed a fitful sleep. I woke up, I called in sick. I wanted to scream in frustration. I had been feeling so good! My allergies were under control! I had energy back! But there I was, slumped on the couch when just 12 hours before I had been feeling so energetic and cleaning up my office.

It’s so hard to explain what this is like when I don’t even quite grasp it myself. So hard to explain and be confident that people don’t think you’re “faking” when your own body can turn on you so quickly. It’s frustrating to have to turn down friends because you’re tired all the time, because constant, chronic pain can just sap your energy. It’s even worse to be feeling better, think you’re getting better, then get set back. That’s where The Spoon Theory comes in. It’s written by a woman with lupus, but applies to anyone with any sort of chronic pain.

Last night, I suddenly ran out of spoons. I wasn’t doing anything overly active. I had gone to work, gone to Target, eaten dinner, watched TV, cleaned up my office, taken a shower. Somehow, yesterday, I had less spoons than I thought and I paid the price. Bleh. I hate calling in sick. Fortunately, I have such sympathetic, caring coworkers who understood. Some chronic pain sufferers aren’t so lucky. To that end, I hope anyone who reads this will keep the spoon theory in mind the next time they encounter someone who “doesn’t look sick.”