Let The Naming Of Our New Dishwasher Commence

A few months ago I shared the story of how it came to be that our dishwasher, Monique, no longer worked. I’m still sad about the turn of events.

CLICK HERE TO READ ALL ABOUT IT.

At that time I asked you for suggestions for a name for our new dishwasher when we got one. You outdid yourselves with ideas, gentle readers.

YOU ARE CLEVER, NO DOUBT ABOUT IT.  

On Wednesday our new dishwasher arrived and was installed, meaning that the time has come for us to settle on a name for our stainless steel Bosch baby. Again I turn to you for help.

PLEASE TAKE THE POLL BELOW. THANK YOU.

A Conversation About Self-Awareness & Assumptions

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~ ~ • ~ ~

A friend, who was clearly absorbed in her own thoughts, got into my car, buckled up, and without so much as a Sherman T. Potter “howdy-do” said:

Do you think you were wanted?

Now I’m a good friend. Attentive. A natural-born problem solver, but you have to give me some context.  So I said the first, rather inarticulate, thing that drifted into my head: huh?

Then the story unfolded as she went on to explain that she’d started reviewing her life, all of her life, in light of a recent setback in which her job ended.

While she understood on a logical level why her job, which she tolerated, had been cut, on an spiritual level this experience had sent her into a spiral of self-doubt– and a need to understand it all.

~ • ~

We talked for a while.  She explained that the question she had asked of me wasn’t about being wanted at work, but about being wanted within a family.  That is, did I think/she think that our parents wanted us.

In my case, Yes.  In her case, No.

Getting to the crux of her contemplation, she thought that being unwanted early on would have given her some superpower to automatically know when that sort of thing was happening again.

In other words, because she was so sure of herself had she missed some sign that she was going to be kicked to the curb by this employer?

We came to no definitive conclusion about her recent job loss, but we did stumble upon a good topic of conversation about self-awareness.  That is, how we all make assumptions based on previous experiences.

And how those assumptions when applied to the here and now, aren’t always a good guide for how to live your life, even though it’s easy to delude yourself into thinking that they are.

~ ~ • ~ ~

Breakfast In The Afternoon On The Way To Being Charitable

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While I’ve no doubt my readers know what a McDonald’s Egg McMuffin looks like, I present this image for future Historians who 200 years hence will need a visual to understand this post. Historians, you may thank me in the footnotes of your doctoral theses.

I had my first afternoon Egg McMuffin last week.

It was late Thursday afternoon, and Z-D & I were on our way to Habitat for Humanity to drop off our old, but still usable, outdoor light fixtures that have been in my way in the garage for months.

[We replaced them last autumn with new black ones that use LED bulbs, with clear beveled glass– and the value of our home doubled. Really. The improvement is amazing.]

I was feeling peckish as we drove along, and in a moment of inspiration I directed Zen-Den to stop at the next McDonald’s so that I could feast on the one item I like at McDonald’s.

[Also I wanted a cup of black coffee.  They have good coffee, which I needed to wash down my formerly unavailable after 10:30 a.m. sandwich delight.]

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Hello again future Historians. This logo, which we saw all over the Habitat for Humanity ReStore, was easy to recognize as we followed the signs on the streets through a working part of town. Once at the store a friendly employee helped us unload our donations to the store.  

So he did.

And I got an Egg McMuffin, which might have been the best one I’ve ever eaten.  A bit of an exaggeration, but it was good.

Especially at the “wrong” time of day.

Eaten in rush hour traffic while someone else chauffeured me around the city on our way to doing good.

Talk about your win-win situation.  ;-)

If We Were Having Coffee On This January Morning…

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{ image via @lawyermom1 }

THE SETTING:  

We’d be sitting at the local Starbucks, enjoying the fact that we were out of the house, doing something together.  

I’d be drinking a vanilla latte with an extra shot and you’d be drinking whatever it is that floats your boat.  My treat, of course.

We’d be listening to the sound of the overworked espresso machines, the indistinct conversations of fellow Starbuckians, and the random genre-less background music that seems to be in every Star$.

THE CONVERSATION:

√  We’d be chatting… about how I read that the colors for spring clothes are rust, mustard and poppy.  I’d assure you that there’s no stinking way you’ll be seeing me in any of those colors.  I’d also mention that I have no plans to go shopping for spring clothes this year.

√  We’d be sharing… our latest podcast obsessions, which in my case is Call Your Girlfriend.  I’d tell you that the podcast’s tone is smart and warm, and that it is lots of fun to listen in while girlfriends talk about a variety of subjects such as feminism, fashion, politics– and whatever else is newsy and relevant this week.

√  We’d be talking… about how after reading this article about raiding your own cookbook collection, I’ve decided to make one recipe per month from a cookbook I already own.  My first recipe, Braised Pork With Sauerkraut, which was delicious, was from Joy of Cooking [75th Anniversary Edition].  Considering I have over 30 cookbooks, this could turn into a fun longterm project.

√  We’d be laughing… about how Zen-Den, the confused, asked me if I’d be “calamari-ing” our house.  Somewhere he’d heard about this new Japanese declutter trend.  While he understood the principles, he’d gotten the name wrong.  My answer, when I finally figured out that he was talking about KonMari, was NO!

THE CONCLUSION:

We’d have to part after about an hour or so because each of us had things to do, things to do.

We’d hug and promise to get together sometime in February, weather permitting, daily life allowing, work schedule be damned.

And we’d count our blessings that we have each other to talk with.  Like friends do everywhere.  Over a fancy coffee in one of the most ubiquitous places on earth.

• • •

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Idea for this post came from Diana at Part-Time Monster.

• • •

The One About Not Seeking Machiavelli’s Approval

Here’s something fun for a Thursday morning…

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# # #

Sometimes failure is a good thing.

It would seem, if the result of this short personality test is to be believed, that I am no good at being ruthless and self-serving.

In fact, I am someone who Machiavelli would not approve of.

Yes, with a score of 42 out of 100, I got a F- in unethical behavior.

Meaning, I guess, that it’s time for me to do a bit of navel-gazing and align my chakras by paying heed to the random delightful wisdom found here.

Namaste.

# # #

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In Which I Grumble Upon Learning My Husband’s Ringtone For Me

My cell phone, which is a flip phone and about 10 years old [don’t judge], has decided to stop me from writing or receiving texts.

Thus it came to be that instead of texting my husband, which is how we usually communicate, I phoned Zen-Den– and learned a little something about what he really thinks of me.

• • •

Him: Hey it’s you! Forgot what your ringtone was.

Me: Yep, can’t text, so must call.  What’s my ringtone?

Him: Some organ music.

Me: Like from the movie The Big Chill?  You can’t always get what you want… I’m what you need?!

Him: No, that’s not it…

Me: Like a church organ playing Amazing Grace? How sweet the sound… I’m your honey?!

Him: No, that’s not it either…

Me: Well, what is it then?

Him: It’s organ music like you’d hear at the intermission of a hockey game while the Zamboni man resurfaces the ice in the rink.

Me: Huh? THAT’S WHAT YOU’VE GOT ON YOUR PHONE FOR ME?!!  You’ve got an iPhone that lets you download about eleven gazillion plus seven songs, and that’s what you pick for me?

Him: Uh huh. It was easy to find and put on the phone.

Me: So besides being useful for cleaning floors, I’m easy– AND NOT WORTH THE EFFORT TO FIND A BETTER SONG FOR MY RINGTONE.  That’s what you’re saying?!!

Him: Yes?

Me: I see. Now I know. Okay then.

Him: Well what do you want me to put on there for you? Black Sabbath?

• • •

That’s when I let the topic drop because I wanted Zen-Den to do something for me, and in that moment it didn’t seem to be in my best interest to press the issue.

However, this is a different moment.

And I’ve been thinking about Zen-Den’s ringtone for moi, which I believe is entirely wrong. In many ways. On lots of levels.

In other words, I don’t like it.

• • •

All of this leads to my question of the day, which is:

Given your druthers, what ringtone song do you prefer to represent you on someone else’s phone?

I need a few suggestions here.  A marriage hangs in the balance.

• • •

A Sunday Morning Winter Walk To Try My New Camera

This less-than-exciting post comes to you from the intersection of Cabin Fever Drive and New Camera Avenue.

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Because the sun was shining this morning, and ignoring the fact that it was 20ºF outside, I decided we needed to go for a walk somewhere unique.

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We drove to a city park and went for a short walk on a groomed path that runs beside abandoned railroad tracks.

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I wanted to take more photos, but after a 1/4 mile on the path we were cold.  Plus it wasn’t all that pretty out there.

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So we turned around, walked purposefully back to the car, and drove home. Because, you know– frozen!