The Famous Steak House in Colo Springs

Tonight my daughter Brenna and near-son-in-law David are spending the night in Colorado Springs. I've set up to buy them dinner at a swanky steak house called The Famous. It's wonderful, and I know They will have a lovely time.

I'm feeling a bit claustrophobic right now because my lifew has dwindled down to work-family-work, and will be there through June. Just reality.

It's a warm but cloudy Sunday afternoon, and outside on the back lawn my two big dogs are snoozing. Beside me on the king-sized bed, my husband is snoozing. I'm listening to some remarkably good acoustic guitar music ( from Marty's recording session this week) and thoroughly enjoying it. But I'm a bit at a loss on a quiet weekend. I've turned into such a work-drone; I will be through the month of June. Matter of fact, I have a serious bevvy of due-dates that hit smack on my mid-June birthday. FIgures.

My job is my anchor, and my rationale right now -- but I cannot help but feel that there is more that I am meant to do in this life. arrogant=sounding, yes? CAn't help it. I wish I had the sort of life that gave me respite from thinking about and worrying aboiut money, but I don't.

Funny thing is, I' NEVER wanted a pop-star existence; I've never wanted to have a larger-than-life world, all I've ever wanted was peace and solitude and quiet. I'd be THRILLEd to own a lovely little house in the country, with (always thoiught of as my non-negotiables in a dream world) a wonderful lap pool that's semi-indoor, witbh windows to the outisde, and a great hot tub under the stars right outside my bedroom -- like we had in Seattle -- but, really, that's it. No other "demands" for creature comforts -- swimming is the best thing for me, given my size, my joints, my life... I love to swim, and would do it every single day if I had the private option. Driving to the Rec Center after having our own pool is hard. Poor me! What a complait that is.

Ayla likes to read over my shoulder - Hi, Ayla!

You are my angel sweetheart, daughter-dear. Go ahead and read, there's nothing I would want to hide from you... I love you.

Hah! Take THAT!

Love, Mom

Prediction: Jeremy Make will have a stellar career

Jeremy Make is a young guy who will have a wonderful acting career. That is my prediction. At 27, he's got the charisma and talent and ability to take off -- the rest is up to him.

We've used his talents on several commercials in the past year. That was great. THen I saw INK. This movie has stayed with me, popping into my head far more often than one might think. INK. This is a film you should see -- it's a standout.

I'm old enough to love Jeremy as a mom (god! he's actually called me "Moma Higgins" which freaked me out) but truly, he's someone who deserves to break out and make it.

Mother's Day and???????

Today's Mother's Day. I was brought coffee with hazelnut by Marty, while I took a leisurely bath. I'm dressed and ready, and I've been told they've got me for the whole day.

But, Ayla's holed up in her room (she did wake me up at like 6:45, though) and Brenna's not here yet. It's nearly noon, and I'm getting hungry. I believe they're making brunch, though. If Ayla ever gets up, and Brenna ever gets here.

I cannot believe how gloriously wonderful both my daughters have turned out to be. Sure, they still drive me crazy from time to time, but mostly, it's just pure pride. And relief that they're turning out to be decent people.

Yesterday, I went with Brenna to the Bonfils blood bank, because she had made an appointment to give blood -- so I donated, too. She was called first, so in the whole process, by the time I got to my donation bench, she was nearly done -- seated all the way across the room, I just kept looking at her face, her beautiful, grown-up, smiling face. Doing something simple and good for the world, no fuss, on her own time. Giving her blood. What an angel. She got a purple pressure bandage afterward, so I did, too. I am very proud of the young woman my Little Gabiddle has become.

She's talking about moving to Florida. I will have such a hard time with that, but I know it's what she wants to do, and it IS inevitable. I'll miss her so much, though.

Mother's day. I'll have to write another post after "whatever" happens today -- because it's all a secret.

Now I'll go pick tulips in the front yard.

Breaking Away to... Nebraska?!?!

Marty and I got in the car Saturday morning, and started driving North-East, simply because that's the one direction I had not travelled since moving to Denver. Well, I guess if I'm splitting hairs, there are a couple of other directions, like South-East, and East. I've been North to Wyoming, East to Grand Junction, South to Taos.

This trip landed us for the night in Oogallala NE, where we dined on killer-good prime rib at an old-tymey theme restaurant, and stayed in a $40/nite motel run by a very nice Japanese guy. Stuff like that always amazes me -- how do you end up,say, growing up in a suburb of Osaka, and landing in a tiny town in Nebraska, running a motel????? Life is strange.

Next morning, we drove as far as North Platte, NE, drove by Buffalo Bill Cody's ranch, stopped at the Fort Cody "museum and store" (90% store, 10% museum)-- where we did actually find something cool, and fairly cheap. For eight bucks each, we were able to buy an actual copy of LIFE magazine from the week we were each born. That was really something to peruse!

We also bought some ammo for my Glock at a creepy store in "some town, I forget which" -- seriously! I can't remember where the heck we were -- run by an ancient guy with huge hearing aids who also tried to sell Marty a Jimenez pistol. $179. We'd never heard of Jimenez Guns before, so he begged off, but got the guy's card in case he wanted to follow up.

Then when we got home, he Googled to get some info. Jimenez is probably the crappiest pistol made in the USA, down near the San Diego border. Like, blows up in your hand crappy. Needless to say, he passed.

He's been whining about how his pistol's too big, and he wants a smaller one. I love mine, and think it's the perfect size. What a great Christmas present. Next stop is my CCW class. Woo hoo!

Mad twittering with a riddle in an enigma

God, I am trying SO HARD to really learn to LIKE Twitter. I just don't, though! Mostly, I find it incredibly boring -- I don't really think I've ever come across anything super-cool on Twitter. I do like good blogs, though, but Twitter still just seems like an utter time-waster.

I guess this is the clear dividing line between the generations -- gasp! I'm too OLD to get Twitter?!?!?!? could that be?

Facebook I get. YouTube I get. Twitter -- still don't get it.

Favorite Website this week: www.failblog.org. Just cannot get enough.

More with the evil cat from hell

So, one doctor visit morphed into FOUR needed during the week -- Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday. Lovely. Tetnus shot still hurts, with a big lump in my upper arm. Got a shot in the butt, too.

Damn cat. Why do I like this cat so much? He's not a NICE kitty.

It must be typical "bad boy syndrome".

OMG -- this first novel ROCKS!!!!

I just finished reading "Beat the Reaper" byh Josh Bazell. Holy Hannah! Here's an interview with the newly-minted MD and first-time author: http://www.goodreads.com/interviews/show/22.Josh_Bazell

I don't think I've ever read anything quite like this one before. If I had to do a logline description, I'd probably call it "Scrubs Meets The Sopranos Meets House" and while that'd neatly sum it up, it'd still not "really" hit the mark.

Thank heaven this guy's working on a second novel. I hope it's even half as good. The book jacket photo shows him on Baker Beach (one of my absolute favorite teenage hangouts) with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background. He's perfectly handsome, AND he's a surgeon, AND he can write. Damn! Some guys get all the good genes.

However, I did have a fleeting thought of Ethan Canin -- what? maybe 15, 20-or-so years ago??? he was the Next Great Writer out of San Francisco. Literati saluted him for his scintillating short stories, which really were quite extraordinary.

I think he burned out on his own fame, choked on his own ego.

Didn't Caesar have some slave following him around, whose job was simply to keep repeating "remember, thou art mortal, remember, thou art mortal????

Writers can get too big for their britches. I really like this guy's style, and I sure HOPE that doesn't happen. He's got such a fun and fresh style, it's addictive.

AWKWARD MOMENT ALERT: When I was maybe 20 or so pages into the novel, and fully LOVING his writing style, I actually mentioned it in a meeting with my direct reports -- raved about the book, how cool the author's writing style was and how funny the thing was (as far as I'd gotten). One guy even logged it directly into his iPhone app that lets you snap a photo of a book cover (since I had it in my purse, he asked to see it, and snapped the photo) -- and then links you right to Amazon.com for the book. Ingenious idea.

So, then... I kept reading. And reading. And I got to the, well, really raunchy-hot sex scenes. Yah, I had recommended this AT WORK. I can hear the HR storm troopers gathering to bust down my door!!!! So, I did go back and mention, "Hey, I know I recommended this book -- but I learned something. I'll never do that again at work until AFTER I've read the whole thing -- because when I told you how cool it was, I was about two chapters in, and it hadn't gotten kinky yet. So sorry, please don't call HR!"

Good thing I have a good relationship with the staff.

And THAT comment makes me think of something from a book called "Executive Warfare" -- one of the universal rules for executives is: "don't EVER be stupid enough to belive that your direct reports really LIKE you. They don't."

Always have to remember how different "work" is at my current gig, from anything I've done in the past. Except maybe Microsoft -- that had a veneer of buddies/colleagues -- but even though the division VP's office was the same exact size as your's and everybody else's (except for BillG's and SteveB's -- they had dou ble offices) -- they WERE still higher on the food chain than you.

At my current company, the hierarchy is very old-school. I always have that in mind. And I do my best to conform. I think I've learned a lot about that in the last few years. I love the gig, and bit-by-bit, I see my own life molding to the job.

Onward and upward.

What to do when a stupid cat scratches you

According to my doctor, who poked and prodded my football-sized, painfully swollen hand -- BABY SHAMPOO, AND LOTS OF IT. If you get bitten or scratched badly by a cat, use regular ol' Johnson's Baby Shampoo liberally and wash and wash and wash it. Try to really work the shampoo into the wound -- because it's "tearless" for babies, it won't sting the cut.

I wish I'd known.

Instead, I just poured hydrogen peroxide on it over and over until it stopped bubbling. Apparently, that was not good enough, because yesterday morning I woke up with a huge, throbbing, red... football at the end of my right wrist. Two nasty puncture wounds.

Doctor visit copay, $20. Antibiotics, $70. Painkillers, $10. Time off from work, priceless.

But I still love the damn cat.