Fado, Tempura and Tulips
January 14th, 2012 by Karen
We’ve been back from Vegas for a couple of days and, with the exception of a profoundly upsetting dream (so fun!), it’s been a great week. We had a lovely time with our entire team in Vegas, we’ve landed two new clients since January 1st, and it was great to see all my friends. I do wish that everyone lived closer to each other, but I suppose that if we saw each other more than the handful of times every year, all our livers would explode.
Today we took the kids to the movies which was great fun, mostly because we had them convinced that we were NOT going to the movies. (It’s our M.O. of course with them…though they’ve been more and more interested in actually gong to Alaska of late, so maybe we’ll have to change that up a bit.) Now, I’m sitting in the kitchen, listening to some glorious fados, watching my sweet hubby make tempura for dinner and enjoying the tulips I treated myself with today.
Oh how I love tulips! They’re definitely in my top 5…along with daffodils, lisianthus, heritage roses, and wisteria. It’s a bit early for tulips, so these are probably hot house, but they’re still very lovely. Now I just have to clear my desk of the things I brought back from Vegas to make room for them!
Posted in City of Heroes / City of Villains, Family, Gaming, Life, Poetry & Writing | 0 Comments
I’m sorry…why are you here?
August 20th, 2010 by Karen
Fair warning…this is a rant. There are swears. Deal.
I like to consider myself fairly modern. I work, I share chores and child-rearing with Joel, heck we even split cooking duties. I don’t mind getting my own door, though I love it when I’m treated chivalrously. If we’re out to dinner and I get up from the table and you stand up like Cary Grant, you’ve completely won me over. Treat me condesendingly and I’m likely to beat you over the head with my physics degree in a rousing game of my “Bachelor’s of Science trumps your Community College Certificate”.
This past week, I attended Affiliate Summit East 2010 in New York City. It’s put on by my dear friends Missy and Shawn and I’ve only missed one in all the years they’ve held them because I’d just had a baby. (Excuses, excuses. 😉 ) I love Summit; I get to see all my old friends, meet a ton of new people, network like mad and stay out until 6am without getting in trouble. It’s by far one of my favorite tradeshows to attend out of the 8 or so I frequent every year.
But, there is one thing though that I hate about EVERY trade show I attend.
Booth babes.
Now, I’m not a prude for the most part. My shirts are usually fairly on the deep side of cleavage. I enjoy the flaunt and the flirt. I have friends that run the gamut from very uptight to so kinked that it would make your toes curl. I’ve heard it, I’ve seen it, and while it’s pretty easy to make me blush, I’m not the condemning kind. Some things I just think are better left to private moments and some moments do actually require a modicum of modesty, business situations being one of them.
Booth babes just piss me off into rageaholic land and every tradeshow seems to have at least one pair of women dressed insultingly. Why ANYONE would willingly attend a PROFESSIONAL conference clad in a barely there bikini and six inch spike heels is completely beyond me. If you have a good, decent, USEFUL product or service, you don’t need to push some skinny uninformed chick in my face to vapidly pop her chewing gum and ‘um’ and ‘uh” at me unless you are ACTIVELY trying to get me to hate you and never ever recommend you to anyone ever.
Just to prove to you how damnably skimpy these girls were dressed at Summit, I had to take a pic. I honestly don’t know who they worked for and I don’t care.
In fact, there were probably 20 or so advertisers on the row where they were standing. They paid a small fortune to be there…between booth costs, ticket costs, hotel, airfare, food, taxis…it adds up fast to be an exhibitor.
I skipped the whole damn row.
Seriously.
I -hate- booth babes.
Posted in Life | 17 Comments
True Friends
August 7th, 2010 by Karen
I’ve been dealing with some medical falderal the past two weeks and I’ve been tired, incredibly irritable and exceedingly impatient to the point of downright rudeness. You know that horrid little inside voice that you keep clamped down internally because its monologue is so amazingly critical and nasty that you’d never ever say any of those things out loud? Yeah. Mine was on a rampage this week. In public.
I honestly felt like I was losing my mind until my doctor pulled me off the meds he had insisted I needed for my blood pressure. Yikes. I’m still really jittery, but my mind is starting to clear, the anxiety is fading, and I’m not some catty she-witch out to insult total strangers.
In any case, the one thing the past two weeks have taught me (besides not to listen to my doctor about medications, tyvm) is who my true friends are and I was honestly a little surprised.
- I discovered that my husband is more of a God given saint that I already knew.
- I discovered that the person I would consider to be one of my best friends was too busy to be bothered with lending me an ear or offering a bit of sympathy, despite all the times I’ve been there for them in the past several years.
- I discovered that a nearby acquaintance was a far better friend than I had previously realized.
- I discovered that an online gaming friend I had previously given short shrift to because of their brusque attitude was incredibly sympathetic and helpful.
So after a fair amount of strife, frustration and tears this week, I’m finally starting to feel like myself again and today I found this on another aquaintance’s blog and felt it summed up how I was feeling fairly well:
Simple Friends vs. Real Friends
A simple friend has never seen you cry.
A real friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.A simple friend doesn’t know your parents’ first names.
A real friend has their phone numbers in his address book.A simple friend brings a bottle of wine to your party.
A real friend comes early to help you cook and stays late to help you clean.A simple friend hates it when you call after he has gone to bed.
A real friend asks you why you took so long to call.A simple friend seeks to talk with you about your problems.
A real friend seeks to help you with your problems.A simple friend wonders about your romantic history.
A real friend could blackmail you with it.A simple friend, when visiting, acts like a guest.
A real friend opens your refrigerator and helps himself.A simple friend thinks the friendship is over when you HAVE an argument.
A real friend knows that it’s not a friendship until after you’ve had a fight.A simple friend expects you to always be there for them.
A real friend expects to always be there for you!
Posted in Family, Life | 0 Comments
Perspective
July 6th, 2010 by Karen
Saturday was like most days around here, just with a bit lighter work load. We got up, had breakfast, made plans to do some yardwork before it got hot then go out for some ice cream in the afternoon with the kids to cool off. Perhaps we would even make the trek to Grandma & Grandpa’s pool down in Sacramento.
The hubby mowed the lawn while I did some minor weed pulling and some major raking for about an hour while the kids enjoyed their summer vacation morning cartoons. Now, we have these trees around our house with tiny little white flowers that are just massive pollen bombs. They make hubby’s allergies flare massively and since we’re trying not to run the AC much (it’s old and needs replacing) the windows are open a lot and that makes him worse. Not fun.
Since the trees are along the fence line, the neighbors and I have been hosing the tree down occasionally since that stuff gets _everywhere_ and while we enjoy the shade, we all hate the pollen. We finish up the yardwork, hubby goes inside to shower all the pollen off and I stay in the yard to hose down the tree.
I’ve been at it for only a couple of minutes and I suddenly feel a stabbing pain in the outside of my thigh, about 6 inches above my knee. I look down and the world stops.
I’ve been stung.
Creeping up my leg is a bee, its stinger firmly embedded in my leg, rather then where it should be on the tail end of the evil beast. I take one deep breath not knowing if I’m getting another and scream for my husband. Our oldest comes to the back door with a concerned look and I holler at her to get my purse. For once, she doesn’t ask questions and just blessedly does as she’s told. Hubby comes running as I’m slowly hobbling in the house trying to remain calm and hands me a credit card. The oldest comes with my purse and I pull out a second card because the stinger’s in too deep for just one. I get it out and he hands me my epi pin as I sink onto the couch.
I’m afraid of needles and I really, really don’t want to do this.
I flick a glance at the instructions, but I know them by rote even though I haven’t had to do this in more than a decade. I pull off the safety cap, I take quick breath to brace myself and slam it against my thigh. The needle fires. We count to 10. (I count to 12 for good measure.) I pull the inch long needle from my leg and press the spot to stop the bleeding and lay back against the couch waiting.
The oldest sits with me while the little ones find their shoes and Joel finishes getting dressed in case we’re hospital bound, and I’m deeply sorry for the worry etched on her young face, but there is little I can do to make her feel better at the moment. I want to tell her everything will be ok, but I can’t promise that and she already knows it. The lie never leaves my lips and I just tell her I love her and she did a good job instead. I can feel the medicine racing through my veins and my heart is beating so hard I feel it’s going to leap from my chest Indiana Jones style.
Five minutes pass, then ten.
The feeling I’m expecting…the tightness in my chest, the struggle to breathe, the feeling of slow strangulation…this time it doesn’t come. Instead, my hands are shaking like mad, I’m sweating bullets, I feel like I’m going to faint when I sit up and like I’m going to lose my breakfast when I lay down…all side effects of the epinephrine.
I’ll take it.
I spent most of the rest of the day on the couch, simply exhausted. I’ve been taking antihistimines the last two days since then to stave off the dinner plate sized rash on my leg, but all in all, I dodged a very large bullet.
I’ve spent the last two days being a little more contemplative than normal…and while I don’t want to sound trite, I really do feel like I stared death in the face. For a single moment, I realized what I had gained in the last 15 years that I stood to lose.
- A husband that I love more deeply every day. (Yes honey, even when we argue about dumb stuff.)
- Three beautiful children.
- My chance to see my brother (eventually) and sister (sooner) get married.
- My chance to see my children grow up, graduate, get married and have children of their own.
- A thousand day to day delights, moments with family and friendships.
I think my hubby realized it too…this morning we began the long overdue spring cleaning of our room. It was time to clear the clutter and pare things down to the essentials. Us. The whole event is still weighing heavily on my mind, but today as I sat at my desk, I realized how much time I spend chained to it. I mean, I like my desk and all, but I had to ask myself “Do I really need to be at it 14 hours a day?” As the laughing, unspoken “no” echoed in my ears, I set my chat windows to away and went to play with my kids for awhile…they may not have appreciated it, but I know I certainly did.
Posted in Family, Life | 0 Comments
Stephen
November 21st, 2009 by Karen
Today, was a difficult day. By far one of the hardest days of my adult life.
Today we buried Stephen.
He was my brother’s very best friend, so much so that Stephen was the brother he never had and vice versa. They brought out the good in each other and he’s been around for so very long that it’s hard to believe he’s really gone. Last Thursday evening, with his beloved wife Rosemary by his side, Stephen lost a long, hard fought battle with cancer. He leaves a hole in so many hearts…a testament to his undying and unwavering love for others.
Personally, I’ve always had a difficult time with my tears. I admit it…I cry easily. Part of it I’m sure is inherited from my mother, but part of it is that I can feel the grief of those around me profoundly. At times, I have set foot in hospitals and simply burst into tears from the overwhelming emotion that washes over me. Sometimes this is a blessing…I can tell when people are hiding their grief, but sometimes the constant tide dashes me against the proverbial rocks and I find it difficult to maintain my composure for any extended period of time.
This morning at the graveside, was one of those moments…from the first second I saw Rosemary until I got back in my car, there were tears on my face. I cried for her…for the loss of her beloved husband, that she won’t be able to grow old with him, that she has to experience widowhood at such a young age, for her broken heart. I cried for his mother and father, Marlene and Dave, that they had to bury their only son who brought so much joy to their lives, that they would never again go golfing with him or be able to hug him tight. I cried for his little sister, Christina, for the loss of her big brother, her hero. I cried for his grandparents, who I’m sure never considered that they would ever be burying a grandchild. I cried for his in-laws, who grew to love him as a son and a brother, for he filled a special place in their lives too that will forever now be empty. I cried for his adorable nephews, E and Marsh, who are so small that their memories of their uncle will be smudged by time. I cried for his friends, Charlie and Kate and Andrew and Daniella and Nathan and Eric and so many others, that they have lost their friend and confidant and with his illness and passing, some of their own innocence. And finally, I cried for my little brother, for his loss of his best friend, his brother by choice, his golf and baseball buddy and for his own unexpressed bottomless grief that I can see in his eyes and for my inability to do anything to fix it.
After Stephen’s funeral and memorial today, I had the long, quiet drive home alone in the dark to think. Upon reflection of this morning’s chilly mourning, the following words filled my heart and brought me a modicum of peace…I know Stephen is home. And in time, we will see him again.
~Karen
Stephen’s Goodbye
widow’s weeds
of grey and tears
glide quietly through the crowd of somber faces
weeping silently for vanished years
of tea and coffee
of crooked smiles
of grass and sky
of embraces
of growing old
as so many do
and some may not
grief etched deep
sleep lost
and ache more plentiful than clouds
heaped on empty bellies
and broken souls
Angels weep soft tears of their own sorrow upon
wife, mother, father, sister, brother, family, friends
and icy wind rips the unspoken scream
from dashed hearts
resounding across the empty sky
with a whispered wail
tempered only by the final sound
of God’s soft breath on chimes
carrying him home
on a single sweet tone
Posted in Family, Life, Poetry & Writing | 0 Comments
Adjust this!
September 16th, 2009 by Karen
Ok, it’s not that I fear change, so much as I’m stubborn. My mother will back me up with this one, I’m sure. If I find a way that something works for me, then it will take a lot of convincing for me to change my ways. Now, this doesn’t really apply to work concepts, since I love to check out new techniques and apps and such, but more to my everyday living.
When we go out to eat, I tend to get the same meal repeatedly. When I go to the grocery store, I always make the same path through the store…if I don’t, I always forget something. I have a morning ritual and an evening ritual. If those get interrupted (like by hubby shouting from downstairs for me to get up 30 minutes before my alarm has gone off), the rest of my morning is spent getting back on track with varying degrees of success.
When we moved here, I had a difficult time adjusting. It’s not my home, it’s unfamiliar, and filled with people that my hubby knows and I do not. People who greet me in the store by my first name when I have no clue who they are and tell me “Oh, tell your hubby I said hi.” Five years we have been here and if I were to count the people I knew well enough to call to go out for coffee, I wouldn’t run out of fingers. I haven’t adjusted to living here.
Recently, my youngest started school. This means that for nearly seven hours a day, I can work basically uninterrupted. I’m having to adjust to it and it’s been more difficult than I anticipated. There are times when I get a ton of work done and it’s only 11am and I’m suddenly stymied as to what to do with myself. I’m going through to-do lists like they are going out of style.
I’m liking the results, but it’s disconcerting to actually be able to crawl into bed at 10pm, long before I used to go to bed and be able to say “hey, I got all the housework done today.”
I’m sure, eventually, I’ll adjust.
Posted in Family, Life | 2 Comments
Want.
August 24th, 2009 by Karen
It’s a seemingly innoccous word, want. So deceptively simple even in definition: to wish, need, crave, demand, or desire.
But the answer to the question “What do you want?” is so brutally complex that it’s nearly impossible to answer definitively.
It’s a word common enough around our household…”what do you want for dinner?”, “what I want you to do is pick up your toys.”, “do you want a coffee this morning?”, “All I want is 5 minutes alone!”…but rarely do I actually ponder what I want in the long run.
Wishing
I could wish for a million dollars and it would never happen. As much as all those self help books say that visualization is the key to actualization, I say that you have to train the horse if you want to ride it, not hope and wish that it would become tame without intervention. We’ve been digging ourselves our of our American Dream pile of debt by hard work, blood, sweat and tears. Not wishes. I want to live debt-free. Wishing is daydreaming and while a nice pastime, not a way to get the things you truly want in life.
Needing
Needs are necessities like water, clothing, food, shelter. These are important and I guess in a way I want them, because to be without them could be fairly disasterous however so many people justify their purchases as falling within these categories. Paying for water bottles constantly rather than using the tap is crap. Buying a $300 designer ski jacket to stay warm when you live someplace that doesn’t fall below 30 F in the winter is crap. Purchasing expensively overpriced pre-made dinners from the grocery store is crap. Building a new house that is more focused on form than function is crap. I don’t need that. I need clean water, durable clothing, healthy affordable food, and a safe home for my children.
Craving
Cravings are difficult…we feel them deep in our bellies and they can be difficult to ignore or voice. I’ve found that most of my cravings though are actually masking what it is that I really want. I crave french fries, but not because I even love potatoes in the slightest. I want salt. I crave chocolate, but I want a glass of milk. I crave time alone, I want to listen to my own meandering thoughts.
Demanding
I will admit to having demands. Everyone does. I demand that you speak to me, not my chest. I demand that you treat me as my own person, not my husband’s wife. (Especially if you are billing me and I’ve been your dental patient for 14 years and he’s been to see you 3 times. Grrr.) I demand that you speak to my children with the same respect you require in return. I demand decent customer service. Unmet demands will be dealt with in a positive manner unless public humiliation is the only recourse.
Desiring
Desire is a tricky beast. It’s so often hidden behind layers of lust and sexual innuendo that it’s hard to see it as a valid want. We speak of desire in a coveting manner…desiring cars, and jewlery, and the latest hottie to grace a magazine cover or movie. Desire is not these materialistic things that make us happy in the short term. It’s not a ring from Tiffany or a shiny new car or even a satisfying roll in the hay. These only offer fleeting fulfillment and leave us feeling even more empty than before.
So what do I want? My innermost wish? Deepest need? My craving? Insistent demand? Heartfelt desire?
I want to be loved. For who I am. For who I was. For who I am striving to be.
Simple. And yet, so complex.
Posted in Life, Tuesday's Topic | 1 Comments
April 15th
April 15th, 2009 by Karen
Today is not just Tax Day when everyone over the age of 18 frets and worries and writes angry checks. Today is not just a day for Tea Parties and raging against the government that mismanages our money in such a way that would land an individual in jail. Today is not just the 97th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic.
Today is my sweet little boy’s sixth birthday!!
Six years ago, at 3 in the morning, I got out of bed and quietly sat in the kitchen, desperately trying to finish our taxes between contractions. About 4:30 am, Joel realized I wasn’t in bed and came looking for me. Let’s just say he was pretty upset that I was doing the taxes in labor without letting him know!! Luckily, I was pretty much finished and my Dad saved the day and finished them up for us and took them to the post office while we were at the hospital.
Suddenly, he’s a kindergartener, the class clown, reading beyond his ken, creating fractal patterns of anything he can get his hands on, and playing the World of Goo where he creates bridges to his little engineering hearts content.
I have no idea where the time has gone…my only regret with him is that it passed so fast. My girls will still snuggle into my lap but Alex has already started the eyeroll and the “moooom” when I try to kiss his cheek in front of his classmates.
You can’t wait for them to grow up and be independent, but it still smarts a bit when they do!
In any case, today he is six and beyond the blue cupcakes for class, his only request is to go out to dinner someplace they have calimari.
That’s my boy!
Posted in Family, Gaming, Life | 0 Comments
Rebirth
April 15th, 2009 by Karen
This past week, Stephen has never been far from my thoughts. Because of the amazing generosity of so many family, friends and strangers, he and Rosemary were able to travel to Houston last week for the battery of tests to once again battle the Hodgkins and Non-Hodgkins lymphoma still attacking his body.
If all goes well and he stays healthy, he will go back in another week or two for the medication and treatment to finally kill it and put him squarely in remission.
Knowing Stephen and his profound affect on my little brother and all his friends, the fact that this travel occurred during Easter Week is well, nothing short of symbolic. The last three years Steve has traveled a long road with his friends by his side…being their rock when they doubted, sharing his own fears and being lifted up by them in turn, losing faith and rediscovering it over and over. Taking chemo and radiation treatments, bone marrow and stem cell transplants with short lived success. And then this solitary chance arose, a place that has done so much good for so many in his situation. An opportunity to overcome the death sitting in his chest. He took this journey to Houston akin to Christ’s own trip to Jerusalem. It’s a trip he knows will change everything. His friends celebrated with him and rejoiced, but I know that in each of them is that deep rooted fear that none dare voice…the fear that he is slipping away where they can not go.
Everyone who knows Stephen has high expectations that he will finally be safe and free and he and his friends can go back to joking and playing and being the young twenty-somethings they are and talking about baseball and barbeques instead of these suddenly somber men who use multi-syllabic medical terms in their everyday chatter.
That medicine they are making this week in Houston for Stephen will make him violently ill and so weak he will not be able to have visitors. He won’t be able to see his family or cling to Rosemary’s hand for comfort. He will be denied the creature comforts of home in the interest of sterility and his decimated immune system. He will be completely and utterly exhausted from the retching and the pain of feeling his insides torn apart.
In that IV bag is liquid death.
But in its plastic confines is Stephen’s final chance for rebirth in this world.
Posted in Family, Life | 3 Comments
Social Commentary
April 7th, 2009 by Karen
To say I am angry would not even begin to describe the blood that is currently boiling in my veins. I am at a loss for adjectives to describe how horrified and agitated I feel.
This morning over my morning coffee, I did what I always do…I run through my email, open my twitter, pidgin and skype for the day and then I hit Facebook and check the news headlines online at our local and regional papers to see what is going on in the world.
The first thing to greet me? A disturbing article about a new game out of Japan that is a rape simulator. Yes, you read that correctly. A video game that literally allows the player to tail and eventually rape an unsuspecting digital avatar. Whatever sick fucks programmed this thing need to have a little R&R at their local equivalent of the looney bin. A little shock therapy is more than in order.
Thoroughly disgusted, I flipped to the website for our regional paper to be greeted with the death of eight year old Sandra Cantu. Little Sandra went missing ten days ago from her home in a trailer park in Tracy. The police refused to catagorize her disappearance as a child abduction, so no Amber Alert was issued for the little one wasting valuable time in getting her back. This morning she was gruesomely found inside a suitcase in a farm collection pond.
I am sickened and disheartened that someone’s sweet little girl has been brutally ripped from their arms. My heart can only imagine the devestation her family must feel as their last shred of hope was torn from them.
When I was about eight or nine, I had a 10 speed bike and I was allowed to ride the bike around the neighborhood alone. I played with my friends, whose parents also let them wander the subdivision in the same manner. I have a daughter about the same age as Sandra and two other little ones and I don’t even feel safe letting them play in our front yard alone.
Why has our society become so violent against women and children? Those two groups have historically been considered worthy of protection…even in war raping, brutalizing and killing women and children is considered abhorrent behavior and is to be avoided at all costs. Why do we tolerate the sleeze in our midst that kills our children and rapes our bodies??
Call me intolerant, call me not understanding, call me cruel, but these men that commit these horrific sexual crimes against the weakest in our society do not deserve our pity for their childhood or our mercy in their punishments.
Christ taught us to turn the other cheek and to offer forgiveness to those who wrong us, but let us not forget that he also said “if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.” (Matthew 18:6)
Posted in Gaming, Life | 0 Comments
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