Filler

There is so much to write. So freaking much. There is no time to write it. Instead, I bring you a visual interlude until we can return to our regularly scheduled programming. Enjoy.


My "type" has been well documented here at Pobble Thoughts. There's the perennial favorites, along with other ruggedly handsome gentlemen. There's my still-missed Tim Russert (*sniff*). And even more recently a (slightly NSFW) big ol' thank you to a friend.


Still, as gorgeous as these people are ~ and oh, are they gorgeous ~ I think it may be time to start a new batch. Not that Brian, Morgan, and Chow are going away. Never. Just...expanding the list a bit. :)


First, sliding into the 4th place position ~ and probably making his first appearance in the "Perennials" section ~ Tim DeKay. Ooooo...I just love me some Tim DeKay.

Moving into the empty love-his-intelligence-newscaster slot (*sniff*), Anderson Cooper:

Moving into the empty obscure-I've-never-thought-of-him-that-way-newscaster position (*sniff*), Brian Williams (see, it takes two people to come close to filling the hole Tim Russert left):

And from then on out, in no particular order...

Chiwetel Ejiofor:

Daniel Ratcliff (hey, he's legal now):

Jean Reno:

John Cho:

Karl Urban (yeah, the new Star Trek was a gooood movie):

Lawrence Fishburne:

And did I mention Tim DeKay?

Those are lovely, lovely Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee and candy.







Road Trippin'

Pictures from Fairbanks have been taken, just not loaded up yet. But first, we gotta go to Manley Hot Springs, which isn't nearly as interesting as it sounds because the hot springs resort is actually closed. It is, however, on fire. So we're going.

According to google, it's 156 miles and takes five hours. Only approximately 1/8 of the way is paved. The rest is gravel. And we're driving it in a rented, gold Chevy Impala. Yep, moving through the bush in a pimp mobile.

This is the part I love.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Another Take On It, Though...

You know I love Pride. I celebrate it. I try very hard to live it. The LGBTQ community is my community. Happily and, well, with pride. But...for every one of us who celebrates Pride, there is at least one who doesn’t. Who takes no pride in being part of our community. Gay men, lesbians, queers, transgendered people, bisexual men and women – people who should be able to take pride, who should feel a part of the LGBTQ community. After all, that’s what the word community means. Yet they feel no pride, so why celebrate Pride?

           

It would be easy to say they need to get over themselves; to lay it at their feet. It would be easy and, goodness knows, it would be more convenient. If it is their fault, their problem, then we don’t have to look at how we might have contributed to these feelings. After all, no one is responsible for our feelings but ourselves; no one can make you feel inadequate without your permission. Blah, blah, blah. We know all the catch phrases. Honestly, I’m even a fan of these phrases. I believe them to be true.

           

I also believe the overuse of these catch phrases is a cop-out. We use them to be able to insult people, to be cruel, to be dismissive, all while being able to blame the very person we have just tried to hurt if they actually get hurt by the fact that we have just tried to hurt them. How is that even logical?

           

But, what does this have to do with Pride or even with us? Because there is a hierarchy within our community. We like to pretend there isn’t. We like to pretend that, as an oppressed group, we come together in unity. We like to pretend we are a united front against those with straight privilege. Sadly, if you talk to more than a handful of bisexual people, you will discover this isn’t the case. If you talk to gays and lesbians of color, you will discover racism is as rampant among us as it is within the straight community. If you get to know transgendered people – do you even know a transgendered person? – you will hear stories of his or her “community” being as judgmental as the cis-world.

           

You don’t want this to be true. I don’t want this to be true. But as adults, we know that wanting something to be different doesn’t automatically make it so. We have to work to change it. I think Pride would be a good time to start or continue that work. Recognize where you have privilege, because most of us carry it somewhere. Watch your humor and your jokes. If someone doesn’t think you’re funny, let that be about you, not about them. Admit that yes, even as the focus of bigotry, we can still be bigoted. Don’t use politically correct words just because you know them; really think about why they are important and change the way you think, not just the way you speak.

           

If we can start here, with Pride, with ourselves, maybe we can open the community to pride. It’s worth a shot.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Tulpa, Or Anne&Me...AGAIN!

An amazing show, created by amazing women. If you're anywhere near New York City, see this show. Let me live vicariously through you.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Summer PSA

Memorial Day weekend has brought the emotional beginning of summer and the seasonal PSA here at Pobble Thoughts. Summer is great ~ beaches, frosty drinks, picnics, barbeques...yeah, that last one. Folks, have your bbqs. Toast your marshmellows and eat your s'mores. Just please, don't set shit on fire.
This isn't hard. Not lighting shit on fire is remarkably easy, in fact. So easy anyone can do it. Put it on the top of your summer list: Don't Set Shit On Fire. Ta-Dah.

Second on the list? Should you set some shit on fire ~ or someone else should set shit on fire ~ and the people who are in charge of things like this tell you to evacuate, get the fuck out.

The Summer To Do List
1. Don't set shit on fire.
2. Get the fuck out.
3. Enjoy the beach.

Not hard. Very easy. Feel free to pass this along. The firefighters, the smokejumpers, the helicopter pilots, and yes, the people who love them, thank you.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Responsibility

Finishing off the margarita mix in the refrigerator before leaving town for three months is a highly responsible thing to do. Otherwise, I would've had to have thrown it out. Highly irresponsible. And wasteful.


I'm a giver.


Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Diplomacy

My favorite definition of diplomacy is the ability to tell someone to go to hell and have them look forward to the trip. George Takei is my favorite diplomat.



Dear God but I love this man. (And please note how drop dead gorgeous Nichelle Nichols is at his wedding. Just saying...)


Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Because It's Not Really 2011

Have you seen the article in Psychology Today spewing the "scientific" and "objective" news that Black women are the least attractive people on the planet? Nope, not kidding. (Click on it; it gets bigger and readable)
Now, the first time I heard about this, I thought it was a joke. An unfunny joke but a joke nonetheless. Not because I don't think racism like this exists but because it was printed in Psychology Today, a reasonably respected magazine. Then I thought the people who had first told me about it simply misunderstood. Perhaps it was a study on the cultural attitudes that make white, mainstream America see Black women as less attractive. Still no.

This article "uses science" to actually "prove" Black women are the least attractive women around.

So...where's the outrage? Where's the disgust? Especially among the white women and feminists who would be screaming if such a thing were said about white women. When I first heard about it, it was easy to think it was a joke because it was being treated as one by the white women ~ white feminists ~ in the conversation. Another time I wish I was joking, but I'm not. But these are the same ilk of women who created the PUMA attitude when Barack Obama won the nomination for President.

You know that "sisterhood" women like to claim they have with each other? Where the hell is it when this kind of racist misogyny gets legitimized in such a public forum?

Because, yeah, these are some ugly people...

 

Those are angry, motivated, inspired Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

An Ode

Damn you, eight a.m. appointment, the bane of my existence.
In bed too early, I toss and turn.
Fumbling at the clock at only one.
Again at three, afraid the alarm is unset.
At five, the voice in my ear is worth the wakefulness
But not the loud silence at six.
Or six-ten.
Or -twenty.
Or -thirty, when I give up, tired and yawning and oh so grumpy for coffee.
But now?
Oh, my teeth are so clean.

Those are a Pobble Ode. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

When You Just Don't Get It

Holy shit, are you serious??? According to the Indiana Supreme Court, people should not resist if the police enter their home illegally.

A man I have met recently has announced that everyone up here in Alaska should be wearing helmets when they ride their motorcycles - and has also announced that he has Libertarian views. So...you want to tell other people what to do but don't want to be told what to do.

The majority of self-described Tea Partiers do not want Medicare and Medicaid cuts. But they are enamored with Paul Ryan, whose plan includes them.

People are arguing that cuts to the budget are vital or else we will leave our children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren with huge debt to repay. But we are cutting education budgets - leaving them with a far greater debt than just a financial one.

Done. Done and done.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Mini Post

The men in the Viagra commercials are lovely to look at. Definitely a successful ad campaign.

Signal Boost, Bigger and Better

Last November, I boosted the signal on a staged reading of a new show, Tulpa, or Anne&Me. Now, I get to boost the signal on actual performances. Yep, they went big-time and the show is being performed at

Planet Connections Theatre Festivity
Robert Moss Theatre (440 Studios) at 440 Lafayette Street, 4th Floor, Manhattan.
June 2 at 6pm, June 3 at 4pm, June 16 at 8pm, and June 19 at 8:15pm.

For $18 per ticket. Eighteen bucks!

Check it out at IndieGoGo.

If you're in New York, you should go. If you're not in New York, feel free to talk this up and tell people who might be in New York that they should go. And I will sit over here and be envious.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ but $18 will get you theatre tickets!

Nicotine

When I was 23, I quit smoking after seven years. When I was 30, I realized my marriage was in trouble, looked at a friend and said "All I want is a drink and a cigarette." Over the last 11 years, I've tried off and on to quit, but it never really stuck. Then two Augusts ago, I went back on the patch again ~ and was told by my dear, wonderful Dr. B. to not worry about the timing of it all, to stay on the patch as long as I needed to. So I did.
Until this week.

As of last Friday, I am nicotine free for the first time in eleven years. Lithus is, as well, which makes it even better.

It's very very cool.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Hollowstone

Check it out.

Yeah... :)

Random Act of Romance

Lithus is in Kodiak this week, flying construction lifts. They ~ whoever "they" are ~ are building research and observation cabins for people who want to study or just watch the bears. They have set up a camera onsite that can be accessed via internet for ... people involved with the construction? ... the project bosses? ... someone. Since I couldn't go with him, Lithus got permission to give me the access code for the camera.
Tonight, I logged on about seven o'clock, just in case his day was winding down. Sure enough, there they all were, tying down the helicopter, closing down their day. So I watched, knowing my sweetie, even when he was blurry and pixilated. And as I watched, he finished his work, walked up the stairs to the deck, looked up toward the camera ~ and blew me a kiss.

417 miles away. Not knowing if I was watching or not. He blew me a kiss.

Is it any wonder I write romance novels?

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

A Reminder

The President of the United States of America was forced today to prove himself. After years of submitting the actual, legal document that the state of Hawaii provides, he had to provide yet another. Many white people consider it silly, or an annoyance, or may even be able to point to "them" and call out "their" racism. It is so much more than silly or an annoyance. It is not just about "them" there, on that other side. It's about all of us, if we want to admit it or not.


Those are far more eloquent and appropriate thoughts than Pobble Thoughts. And after all this time,this and a buck fifty will still just get you a cup of coffee.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Just not in that order...
The Bad: After six months of being on the hook, my editor has turned down my book. Yep, the third in my trilogy will not be published by my previous publishing house. *sigh* So many reasons this is heartbreaking. Reason the first ~ duh. Reason the second ~ it was obvious by the reasons she gave that she only gave it a cursory read. That doesn't mean that all of her critiques were invalid; some were very valid. Most of them though, frankly, didn't apply to the book I had written. Reason the third ~ several of her complaints were the exact things my previous editor had loved. Ah well. And reason the fourth ~ you kept me on the hook for six months just to give my book a cursory glance and turn me down??? Are you fucking serious???? Yeah, pretty pissed.

The Good: I don't have a brain tumor. Seriously. It's been an interesting few weeks. The nutshell version: back at the beginning of the month, I was hit with a migraine like no migraine I have ever had in my life. Then less than a week later, there was another one. And there was an MRI on my brain and my neck. Wanna see? You know you do.

Pobble Brain, no tumors. How Freaking Cool????

So what's going on? It's The Ugly...

That's my neck. And that's a bulging disc. Officially, this is a small disc protrusion with degenerative changes and minimal canal stenosis. Which means it's a bulging disc with some spaces closing up. Yes, it's bumping up against my brain stem (hello, migraines) but it's not as bad as it could be because there is still a lot white around the brain stem. The white is the fluid that helps protect the brain stem. So, as ugly as it is, it could be a lot uglier. Still...dude...

However, in many ways, this has been good timing. I didn't get the book contract the day before my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon. As I wrote a dear friend of mine that night:

I'm still hurting. I'm still PISSED. I still don't want to deal with it with just about anyone but you.
AND having the doctor's appointment rescheduled for tomorrow is a case of the Universe giving you what you need. Because you know what?
I didn't get a contract for a book. I still don't have a brain tumor.
I didn't get a contract for a book. I do have a bulging disc from my c-spine pressing on my brain stem.
I didn't get a contract for a book. I have insurance and a referral to a really good doctor since I have a bulging disc from my c-spine pressing on my brain stem.
It's all a good reminder that no, I didn't get a contract for a book. But all that happened was I didn't get a contract for a book.

Told you - The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

The Value of Things

Over the weekend, Lithus made a throw-away line about how we should pare down our belongings because we are beginning to accumulate stuff. It was a throw-away and I know this for several reasons. First, he said it while clearing out the empty boxes that had gotten stacked along the closet. Second, we hardly have any stuff. We can't even invite three people over for dinner because we don't have enough table service for more than four ~ and only enough seating for three and only then if two of them are good friends. Mostly, I'm okay with this.

People who know me talk approvingly about my lack of materialism. Comment on how nice it is that I am willing to live simply in order to spend money on adventures and experiences. Note that anything I do have in my home and I am willing to accumulate is stuff I really, really love. And that last one is true. A long time ago, I decided I would only own things that I really, really loved, that increased happiness. The rest...the rest is only partly true.

I used to care about things. A great deal. Within a year, that was change was kind of forced on me. During my divorce, I wasn't allowed into the basement of the house I had shared with my ex-husband to go through the boxes he and I had stored there in happier times, knowing eventually we'd get around to unpacking them. During that same time, when I was trying desperately to take each and every breath without losing my mind, my childhood home was emptied and sold. While I would've been allowed to come down and go through it ~ welcomed, even ~ it wasn't...made easy...for me to do so. In some ways, I forced others to make decisions for me; in some ways, others forced decisions on me. I really can see both sides of it. The end result is the same.

My books. My college diploma. Pictures. Daddy's pencil sharpener. The whipped cream bowl. The demitasse cups. Two different dining room sets. The Victorian cookbook. My fountain pens. ... You get the idea. I have no idea what happened to so many things. I had to let them go.

Now...now I own the things I want. They are in storage in Worcester and Washington. I haven't seen them in years, literally. But they are mine. No one can take them away from me. And if I don't surround myself with stuff, it's not because I don't value things; it's because I do. I value the things I have left, the things I own, and they aren't simply replaceable because our apartment is a little emptier than it might be.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

For Denny (a little NSFW)

Sometimes, you gotta say thanks, the only way you can.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and my love.

An Opinion on Not Having An Opinion

When I was growing up, I was part of a very liberal family living in a very conservative town. The conservative contigent was already well established and deeply entrenched by the time we got there. My family managed to find like-minded people and discovered a liberal culture that was growing.  Everyone had an opinion about something. Often loudly.
Then I moved to Boston for college. By the time I graduated, my mother was convinced conservative aliens had sucked my brains while I was in the northeast. Yep, for years and years, I was the conservative one in my family, which should tell you how liberal a bunch we were. Not surprisingly, however, conservative aliens did not suck my brains. Something did happen though. I went somewhere where it was okay to say "I don't know." In fact, it was encouraged. Now, while many might think this was because I went to college at all, I transferred to my school in Boston. I'd already done two and a half years in college. I wasn't some innocent, bright-eyed eighteen year old who'd never seen the world.

But in Boston, we were taught that if you only knew one side of an argument, you did not, in spite of what your gut or your emotions wanted to say, have enough information to form an opinion. It was novel. Mind you, I'd heard both sides debate issues before. You couldn't miss it growing up the way I did, remember? But I'd heard very little objective fact about the other side's side.

People were so busy yelling at each other; pulling out the weakest, most ludicrous sound bites of the other's stance in order to eviscerate it; standing by their own propaganda for the sake of standing by it...there wasn't a lot of room for listening. There were a few people ~ my dad, a couple professors at that first school, a friend's father, another friend's mother, AppsRUs ~ who listened and encouraged actual knowledge prior to making a decison but that's not the culture of my youth.

It's not the culture of my adulthood, either, it seems. People are going a little crazy with the propaganda these days...again...still...something. We hear it on msnbc or fox news, depending to which side of the aisle we lean and we believe it. We don't need to listen to the facts of the other side; we don't have to research what it actually means. We've heard our side's counter argument and that's enough.

Only, it's not. It's not enough to knee jerk against Planned Parenthood or Medicare cuts. Land minds and school lunches are both nuanced subjects, in spite of what is easy to believe. And we may come to the exact same opinion when it's all over. That is okay. At least we got there legitimately, not just because one side or the other was louder.

Until we get there, though, I really wish we could step back and acknowledge when we just don't know.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Ah...Spring?

I've been composing a post about Spring and the fact that it's here, finally. But, in vintage Pobble fashion, I've been composing it in the shower, while driving, just before sleep...everywhere but in front of my computer. Still, it has to be Spring because last weekend, we went out to Big Lake where friends are building a house and helped them get all the construction stuff off the lake before it thawed and everything sank to the bottom. And if there is concern about the lake thawing ~ the lake that people drive on because it is so solid ~ then it is Spring. Yay!


Lithus brought me tulips.

The apartment parking lot is no longer a sheet of ice. The snow hasn't just melted; it's disappeared completely and almost instantly.

Then I woke up to this today.

Can you see the snow? It had fallen for about twenty minutes at that point. Yeah. Twenty minutes.

Ah...Spring. At least my tulips are beautiful.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Shameless Plug

I've been waiting to hear from my editor to see if they are going to buy my third book. The deadline was back in October. Nothing. Several follow up phone calls, emails, rescheduling and...still nothing. I'm trying to be patient; this isn't unheard of in print publishing.

And honestly, I think I get why the decision may be particularly hard. On the one hand, it's a really good book. Probably the best of the three. On the other hand...the first two books aren't selling very well. Sales for the first one falling off may have been anticipated. But sales for the second have never been good. Mind you, I know why. Because of the situation I was in when the second one came out, I wasn't able to market it well at the time. Sales have always shown that. *sigh* Industry standard is that it would be very difficult to market it in mainstream venues at this late date. So, I'm marketing it here. And over at Facebook. And twitter. And anywhere else I can think of.

So go ahead, click here or here or, yes, even here. Buy books! Leave comments! You know you want to... :)

And thanks. It's time to do whatever necessary.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and about $10.00 will get you two really great books.

Anticipation

This morning, I was sitting at the airport with Lithus and I saw someone reading the Sunday paper. Specifically, the Sunday comics. The sight made me smile. Admittedly, I don't think I've had a newspaper subscription in well over ten years, but the realization that the colored Sunday comics still exist made me very happy. I remember waiting for them and the joy that came with stretching out on the floor with the Sunday comics (I always saved Peanuts for last).

Without sounding like someone's grandmother, I do wonder if Timber's generation, let alone the generations after, have anything they anticipate. Sunday comics, Saturday morning cartoons, Christmas and other television specials. You didn't have to get too old before realizing that the countdown to those things and that warm burn of anticipation was just as good (if not better) than the explosion of the event itself. Even the disappointment that came when you missed something just taught you that much more how valuable the event was.

Right now, I think we are in a place where there doesn't have to be much anticipation. Want to watch How The Grinch Stole Christmas in June? No problem. Rent it or download it or plug in your dvd or blueray. Missed it on television? Trust me, no problem; it'll be on a dozen more times this season. Saturday morning cartoons are on all the time. Sunday comics can be found online any day.

Again, this isn't to be grumpy or curmudgeonly. This isn't a treatise on how much better life was when I was a youngin'. This really just is asking the question: I wonder if there's anything left to anticipate when everything we could want is available all the time. I hope there is. I hope I'm missing something. I hope Timber knows that warm burn and not just the explosion. And if this is the burp in the moment where there isn't anything, not really, then I hope Timber's generation is smart enough to change things up again. Because anticipation is worthwhile, too.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

69? Really? Cool.

Contrary to reasonable expectation, this post is not about sex. It's about colleges and college rankings. The US News and World Report has come out with its college and university ranking. With My Heart looking at schools, I decided to check the list.

My alma mater, Northeastern University, is ranked 69th. Now, I always knew that, for my program, it fluctuated back and forth between number one and number two in the county (with Sam Houston State University in Huntsville, Texas, if you're interested). And I knew it was a solid school for a handful of other programs, as well. But nationally ranked...? I have to say, I'm surprised.

Sixty-ninth is just below WPI. It's tied with UConn and Virginia Tech. It's above American University, for crying out loud.

Honestly, I have stopped talking about having a degree in criminal justice because, thanks to DeVry and ITT Tech, a CJ degree has the respectability of a draw the pirate and you could be a real artist. But I am proud to say I have a pre-law degree with a concentration in international human rights law.  Guess I'll start adding from Northeastern University to that.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Missing Politics

Over the last several weeks, I've had friends comment on the fact that Pobble Thoughts has been notably a-political. Admittedly, this has never been a political blog, but they popped up every now and again, especially when there have been events of note. And there have definitely been events of note recently.

I have been keeping track. I have been reading, researching, learning. I have been as aware as I've ever been. I've even been composing in my head. Posts on

* events in the Middle East
* the union protests in this country
* the similarities between events in the Middle East and the union protests in this country
* the use of the word deserve
* the closing of schools and the laying off of teachers
* the rape and subsequent victim blaming of an 11 year old girl
* and so many, many other topics...

But I'm also still very, very angry. Not a healthy, motivating anger, either. That I would embrace. No, I'm angry in an unhealthy, affect my relationships, make me a nasty person and change my personality angry. Not to mention incoherently angry, which doesn't please me at all. I like being coherent, erudite even. These days, I'm just a spewer, blathering out shit that only makes sense while it's still in my brain but falls apart once it comes out of my mouth, making my stance on something seem trite, superficial, and unclear. Writing about events and issues that increase that anger, especially when others are doing it better, more eloquently, coherently, and with far less flailing and gnashing of teeth, than I can...well, that I will leave aside. It's one thing to rant and rave to my friends, take a deep breath, and move on. It's another to put it here, where it will live forever, this incoherent angry blathering.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

International Women's Day

You know someone's gonna start whining because there's no International's Men's Day. *sigh*



Those are Pobble Thoughts ~ with some help from Judi Dench and Daniel Craig. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Fur Rondy Mini Post

This is me:

 With a cat...

 Running Reindeer...

 And a very cold Lithus.

Want to know more? Go here. :)

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Birthday Wishes

If you've run from Oobleck or heard a who,
If you've become friends with Thing 1 or Thing 2;
If you know the beauty of truffula trees,
If you know the alphabet stops not with zees;
If you've ever headed to Solla Sollew,
If you've run the circus, or even the zoo;
If you know exactly how lucky you are,
If your belly laughs at the need of a star;
If you ever saw it on Mulberry Street,
If green eggs and ham is your favorite treat;
If you've ever befriended a big-hearted moose,
Give thanks for your childhood ~ and Dr. Seuss.

Those are thankful Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

222

When my dad first died, I marked a lot of time. I wasn't suicidal or anything. Even then, I knew there were too many adventures to have to even think like that. Plus, it would be the greatest insult to his memory and his parenting. But I did mark a lot of time, living for the time I would die and get to see him again.

Even once the grief changed and I stopped marking time, started actually living for living again, I often said that, given a relatively sound mind and body, I wouldn't want to live past my mid-to-late 80s because I didn't want to go without seeing my dad any longer than that.

Last night, Lithus and I got to talking about vampires (don't ask). It dawned on me that, while I would miss my dad deeply, if I were with Lithus, I would be want to be immortal. It's a silly, unrealistic thing to even consider. And it made me smile anyway.

Guess I married the right guy two years ago.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Take 2

I'm a bit of a procrastinator. At the time I published yesterday's post, I still hadn't gotten Lithus a Valentine's Day card yet. Yeah...He, however, had presented me with flowers. And a poem. Yep. A poem. *Pobble dissolves into a puddle* Written by him, from his heart.

At the grocery store yesterday afternoon, there were several of us, looking at the cards. We got to chatting, the way strangers do, and bemoaning the fact that we had put off getting cards for our significant others until the last minute. Putting back yet another really bad card, I muttered "I got a poem." The woman next to me asked "Really?" "Yeah," I nodded. "How is one of these supposed to compete with a poem????" She shook her head. "You really can't." We laughed. I'm please to say I managed to do all right anyway. But let it be a lesson to you ~ you really can't compete with a poem.





My Flowers




Game hen, asparagus and couscous

  And yes, we ate in front of the television last night but here's why...


Casablanca in the background :)

 And last, but never least, my dear Lithus.

This isn't even how he was dressed for last night. This was just for going out the other day, rocking the Sean Jean on a random Friday to run errands. But he's gorgeous and I wanted to share. :)

Those are romantic, mushy, here's looking at you kid, Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Valentine's Day

Yes, yes, yes, I know. It's a commercialized, artificial holiday, created by Hallmark and other evil corporations.

So what?

See, I don't care. I love it. Always have.

Now that I'm with Lithus? Good grief, I'm positively mushy. We each have things that make the day important. For me, it's flowers. No roses, thank you very much, but flowers. For him, it's a romantic dinner. Today, he showed up with an amazing bouquet, wild and messy and gorgeous. Tonight, I'm preparing Cornish game hen, with couscous and asparagus. And, of course, chocolate. :)

So to all of you, if you love Valentine's Day, or loathe it. If you celebrate it with a partner, or friends... Happy Valentine's Day. May your day be filled with chocolate and romance.

Those are mushy, romantic Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you yummy chocolates.

Weekend Ramblings

I have been busy and flat out since mid last week. I have nothing to show for it and nothing to point to and say "that's what I was doing" but today is the first day I've stopped. I'm okay with this.


Freaked out a little bit today. Never cross the streams. One of the followers of Pauline tweeted about a site and a specific post that an IRL friend has talked about frequently. And it's not a viral video, but a somewhat obscure site and post. Seriously, people, don't cross the streams.


Lithus is flying a gig for NASA over the next couple days. It's "rocket collection." Please note, it's not "missle collection." They were very clear about this. Rocket.


He will be based out of Fairbanks. The good news is that Fairbanks has warmed up to 11 degrees during the day, so the temperature won't be crazy cold for him.


Two new pairs of jeans, my cool boots from the previous post, and new lipsticks. I'm not sure if it speaks well about my character how happy these little things continue to make me ~ or if it means I'm a little pathetic. Regardless, I continue to be deliriously happy.


Hm...what should've been the first in this list, perhaps...we are, once again, as of today, grandparents. As my step-daughter put it "tell Pobble she's officially a grandmother; I know she'll love that." At least it's already been established that I don't hold babies.


Looking at pictures from my Heart's visit, we held a lot of food. Mind you, it was really big food and worthy of holding. Just check out the pizza (and the two amazing men I got to spend my week with, of course).

Still, we held a lot of food. I'll see if I can get him to send me pictures he took on his camera for a more event-based, less food-holding-based post.


Was flipping back and forth between the Super Bowl and the Puppy Bowl ~ until the puppies all decided they were tired of entertaining the non-football people and just lay down. Plus, there were no dachhunds. What is the point of showing adoptable puppies if there are no dacschunds?


Egypt...Yeah. Others have said it better and more eloquently so I'll leave it at: Egypt. *sigh*

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

I Tried...

I tried to adapt to living in Alaska. I wore flat boots. I wore appropriate clothing. I was waterproof and sturdy...and hated every damn minute of it.

Today, I'm wearing this coat:

 And these boots:

Good Lord, but I'm happy.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.