The Gurly Life

Hippo surprise

The only thing more awesome than this cute little hippo doodad (courtesy of Ms. Willow)

Is that it's actually useful.

Form *and* substance.

 

Memories by Michelle

One of my best friends has taken the plunge and has decided to follow her passion and turn it from a hobby to a profession. This amazing woman is my friend Michelle. Normally, she prefers that I don't use first names on the blog (though since she's on Twitter, FB and has several blogs, I'm not sure if that rule still applies), but since her own professional site is called Memories by Michelle, I think she will forgive me.

Michelle is a photographer. A budding and extremely talented photographer, who specializes in portraits. Each new session she does she gets better by a factor of about 14. Maybe 16. Ok, fine, 17! OMG, you're so pushy.

She lives and works in the Sacramento area, but she is also an avid and unstoppable traveler, so I'm throwing out there that she is not difficult to convince to go where her subjects are. The other thing about that is that she takes portraits of her people where they are comfortable, which is often near or at home. Michelle is not the kind of photographer that makes you wear a corset and a hat you wouldn't be caught dead in.

To promote her new website and budding business, Michelle is running a competition. That's right - YOU COULD WIN SOMETHING! A free session. It's really easy to enter, you don't need talent, there is no essay to write, there are no multiple choice questions to answer. Just go to the Memories by Michelle blog and follow the very easy instructions. You can enter up to four times. Oh yeah.

I have entered, of course, because I would love for her to take my photo. So, really, what I want you to do is go to her website and hire her and NOT enter the contest so I can win the session. No, no, enter the contest, anything to plug my friend's new business, but DON'T ENTER because I want to win, no I don't mean that but go away NO NO GOOD GRIEF ENTER THE COMPETITION, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE. Don't make me yell.

Sigh.

It's hard being a good friend when my selfishness knows no bounds.

You can enter to win the session until December 31. This post will be at the top of the blog until then. Be sure to scroll down for new posts until Friday.

Time for another workshop

A couple of years ago I took two tremendously helpful workshops by PAX Programs. At the time, I took their Celebrating Men, Satisfying Women workshop, and their Celebrating Men & Sex workshop. Both were extremely useful and revealing. Lots of "Oh! I get it now!" moments. Lots. I don't pretend for a moment to fully understand men, but I am not as lost as I once was.

PAX offers a couple more programs. One is what they affectionately call the Queen Course. The final course, and the one I'm told is absolutely the most useful of all is Celebrating Men & Marriage. I will be taking that one, too. It is time for more clarity. Landmark Education got me a good deal of the way to where I need to be in terms of relationships and men, but not all the way. And as you know, doing more of the same thing expecting a different result is for the birds.

So now that I am clear that I need more clarity (sometimes you don't see the fog for the trees, to butcher a hackneyed metaphor), I am interested in these two courses. So instead of taking a Hawaii vacation, I will do these workshops and take little trips to visit friends that I do not see nearly often enough. That means you, Deirdre and Travelvixen. I'm not really in the mood for a vacation, anyway.

I will be taking the Queen course the weekend of May 14, by the way, which sadly means I will miss the artichoke festival in Castroville (thistle be fun!).

Useful relationship stuff

Since today is Valentine's Day, as artificial as that is, I thought I would post some relationship tips I think might actually be helpful. Not that I'd know, of course, in light of two less-than-stellar attempts at marriage and my chronic singleness for the last six years. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about being single - after all, I get to do whatever the hell I want whenever the hell I want to, within bounds of the law, my job and decency (more or less) - my point is simply that of all people to give relationship advice, I'm the one you probably should not listen to. Nevertheless, in keeping with my tendency to express opinions on matters I know nothing about, I've cut and pasted some advice from folks who claim to know from relationships, and with whom I mostly agree.

The folks I'm talking about are Kathlyn and Gay Hendricks, of Conscious Loving Relationships.

People can endure long-term relationships in many ways, but they will only thrive if they do five things [emphasis added]:

1. If you want a close, vibrant love relationships, you need to become a master of commitment.

2. If you want a relationship that’s both close & creatively vital, you have to become emotionally transparent.

3. You must break the cycle of blame & criticism, an addiction that saps creative energy as surely as drugs.

4. If you want a vibrant long-term relationship—you have to do something radical about your creativity. You have to take your attention away from fixing the other person & put it on expressing your own creativity.

5.If you want to create vital, long-lasting love, you must become a master of verbal & nonverbal appreciation.

They also had this little tidbit, which is not part of the 5 tips, but I thought was perhaps even more valuable: Tell the truth…always and in all ways.

Happy Valentine's Day, my loves.

A health update

Before I begin, it's all good news. If you have been following my progress in the last few years (all two of you!) and have been concerned about my well-being, and each time I do a health update you groan both before and after reading it: fear not! There shall be no groaning.

There are several updates: the hip, the back, the colds, the cough. Food. Cramps. Yoga.

I'll take them one at a time, and I will try to be brief, but I make zero promises.

The hip and back.

It hurts a lot less. Slowly, imperceptibly, the level of pain is decreasing each day. I have more days without pain than with pain. The level of pain, when I have it, is less. The surgery was almost exactly 2 years ago. If I remember correctly, the pain decreased after the surgery in Jan 08 to its lowest in about August of 08, then shortly thereafter my SI joint started going nuts and I got bursitis again. That lasted in earnest for a few months. The cortisone shot in my hip I think was last April, and the bursitis has not returned. Yoga and green smoothies sealed the deal, I think. Omega 3 supplements might have helped.

Over the last two years the inflammation in my body has decreased. So, to anyone who still thinks that by the time you're 40 you have to succumb to pain, I'm here to tell you that you do not. Even as recently as 5 or 6 months ago, about 10 days before my period the swelling in my body, as minimal as it is, would make my hip and back hurt more. This time, I had almost no hip pain. A little tenderness during my period, but nothing like before.

Food.

I'm dedicating a few sentences to this because I think it is the most influential aspect of my improved health. I know some of you don't want to hear it, or simply don't want to give up some of the pleasures of the palate, but seriously, being pain-free is sooo worth it.

Here's what I've done, and I am reasonably certain it works: more raw food, lots and lots of veggies, preferably raw, some fruit, some nuts, way way less meat than when I was running. And generally speaking, I eat a ton less.

This is not to say I'm a vegetarian, or a vegan, because often they eat a lot of processed foods and processed meat substitutes, which leads into my next point:

No processed food, no soda, almost no fried food (except for the occasional cheesy fries escapade at Islands).

Green smoothies.

Salads like they're going out of style, with olive oil, not those revolting dressings that drown all the goodness.

Gluten free.

I use raw seeds, nuts, berries, and all kinds of super foods, in small amounts. I also use hemp protein powder, it's quite delicious. I wonder if I would test positive in a drug test, like the folks who love poppy seed bagels. But perhaps that's a myth.

Colds and coughs.

This winter I had several half-assed colds or something. A 2-week cough. At the time, the cold seemed to be quite persistent, and it came and went a bunch of times. But none of those colds turned into a cough (in the past, they always have, especially since my hip trouble began and everything went to hell), and the cough was just a cough, and instead of 2 months it lasted 2 weeks. And no bronchitis. Woo hoo! That, my friends, was a major victory.

I think that part of the reason I had so many colds in the last 3 years has been because I've consumed a rather impressive amount of ibuprofen because of my hip. I can't prove that it eroded my immune system, but I strongly suspect it.

Cramps.

I don't take ibuprofen for them anymore. As my overall inflammation has decreased, so have the cramps. I haven't taken ibuprofen for cramps for probably about 6 months. The cramps have decreased over time.

Yoga.

Complements the above quite nicely. I've been doing it for about a year and a half, at least twice a week, sometimes 3 or 4. Between the decreased inflammation and the yoga, I'm experiencing a fluidity of movement that I can't remember ever really having, even as a teenager.

Other.

I've been taking Omega 3 and Calcium + Vit D supplements, as well as Potassium + Magnesium and B12. They might be adding to the whole mix. Who knows, I'm doing so many things.

Also, acupuncture and chiropractic (not that cracking of joints kind, though) have helped.

Oh. My. God.

I just want to let all my international fans to know that in North Dakota today the temperature will drop to MINUS FIFTY-TWO DEGREES FARENHEIT. In Celsius, this is FORTY-SEVEN DEGREES BELOW ZERO. At first I thought that's, like, the temperature on the moon. That's not exactly true. But it is close to the temperature outside your average transatlantic flight. Minus the crazy winds, of course.

But since we're here, and we're curious folk, the temperatures on the moon are worse than in North Dakota. This is what NASA has to say about them:

The temperature at the lunar equator ranges from extremely low to extremely high -- from about -280 degrees F (-173 degrees C) at night to +260 degrees F (+127 degrees C) in the daytime. In some deep craters near the moon's poles, the temperature is always near -400 degrees F (-240 degrees C).

Info from here.

P.S. In case you don't notice, one of the categories for this post is Travel. Just in case.

A guide to IKEA shopping.

You mostly dread IKEA. You might as well admit it, so that we can move on to the business at hand: how to get through it without a migraine or a full-on psychotic break.

First, only go when you need something specific, having looked at the catalog ahead of time. Arrive having prepared yourself psychologically for an endurance event. It is not recommended that you take it on cold. A bit like I imagine marathon running to be: you carb up, drink plenty of fluids, wear comfortable clothing and shoes, train for 9 months ahead of time, and know that on the day you will keep going until you reach the finish line. Hopefully someone somewhere along the way will hand you a banana. But you certainly don't wander by one morning and say, gee, I think I'll run this marathon today.

IKEA has a system: you walk through the store in a predetermined path, which takes you through the entire store. At the entrance, you can pick up a map with the store's layout by floor, and a dotted line with arrows shows you the path to take that will get you past all the departments, past the pick-up area, and to the cashier. Problem is, walking the entire store will give you sensory overload, and by the time you get about two thirds through the first floor, you're fried. You do not, under any circumstances, do the entire walk. Even if you are the kind of person who takes on Black Friday at 4 a.m. and shops until the following midnight. Well, maybe if you can handle that, you can handle IKEA. Maybe.

I think I went through the entire store methodically once, when I was married to Mario. This was before either one of us knew any better. I don't want to exaggerate the effects of that shopping trip, but he and I are no longer married. Draw your own conclusions.

At the entrance, pick up a map and study it. Carefully determine what departments you need to visit, and the fastest way to get to said departments. There are some shortcuts, which are marked as smaller dotted lines on the map. Lay out your path ahead of time. You don't want to be caught unawares between departments, nor do you want to make the mistake of simply wandering along expecting to come upon what you're looking for, you might be set upon by a Rodent Of Unusual Size. When you take the shortcuts, or if you have to traverse one department to get to another, do not look up, do not be distracted, do not answer if someone calls your name in dulcet tones. Consider leaving your people behind if they get mired along the way. Save yourself, and then call for help. Leave no man behind might work for things like war and natural disasters, but it is a fatally flawed strategy at IKEA.

Pick up one of the tape measures provided, or bring your own, including a chart with the measurements from home. It is pointless to put yourself through this if you have not measured the spaces in your home, office, brothel, or whatever it is you're furnishing.

Do not touch anything. There will be many children, some of whom will be snotty and fondling everything, and their harried parents will not be able or willing to keep their germy little hands off the merch. The parents will be glassy-eyed, worn out, sprawled inelegantly on the display beds, slightly desperate around the gills, hair out of place, makeup looking 16 hours old. You will wonder if they'll make it. They might not. It's ok. Move on. Always move on.

There will be a woman whose face says 20-something, but whose overflowing kankles will say 65 and never walked a day in her life, who will have surrendered. Her family will be around her, encouraging her, begging her to please get up, they're almost done and there will be Swedish meatballs at the end of the walk. Her gay cousin will be dancing and singing to her to make her laugh, like he used to when they were children, but her face will be set in a flat, zombie mask. It's too little, too late. You will see in her eyes that she is considering letting herself just die. You will make a mental note to walk more because you do not want to end up looking like that, and then move on. Always move on.

Now might be a good time to eat that banana, to fortify you.

You will stop at the showroom departments that concern you, and those departments only. This is not the time for flights of fancy. You are not at the supermarket, where you go to buy potatoes and end up with diapers and walnuts as well, none the worse for wear. Many have tried it, few have succeeded with relationships intact. Move on. Always move on.

At the pre-determined departments, you will focus on what you need. For example, my mom and I went to buy a bed. We made it to the bedroom department, though I did think I lost mom a couple of times. Finally, I resorted to holding her hand. We looked at all the beds, including the one we had settled on. We did not change our minds. If you change your mind, you must retreat and regroup. Leave, go home, have some tea, revisit the catalog, measure everything again, and a few weeks later, go back to the store. I know, it's like going for your second tour in Iraq, but you can do it. You signed up for this, you don't get to back out now. Man up.

Now that you have found the item you were looking for and have confirmed that this is indeed the item you will be purchasing, you will either find it on the showroom floor (if it's a small item), or you will have to write down which isle and bin holds the item in the self-serve area, or you will need a piece of paper from one of the surprisingly calm IKEA sales people. In the latter case, you will have to pay for the item first, then go pick it up.

So now you have your list of items, you've written down the aisle and bin numbers, you've picked up one of those flat carts and you head to the self-serve aisles to pick up your furniture. The self-serve department is aisle after aisle of floor to warehouse ceiling of flat cardboard boxes. On the bottom are the boxes that you pull into your cart, and above are stacked the extras. This is not where you want to be when the big one hits. The self-serve area is the empowering part of the trip, or it would be, except you find that the boxes you want weigh between 50 and 100 pounds. This defeats the purpose of self-serve, but if you've made it this far, it means you are a leader, a resourceful person, someone who will not be stopped by a little thing like not being strong enough to carry your quarry.

You will chase down one of the guys in a yellow shirt, work gloves and back support belt. But you have to be fast, because they will not wander down the aisles looking for people to help, and right when you need help they will all be gathering in an area not accessible to the public for some kind of pow wow. You will also have to be ruthless. Several people will try to pull your yellow shirt guy away from you, mewling for help with heavy items. "He will help you in just a minute, as soon as he's done helping me," you will say in a firm but gentle voice. You will reassure them that their turn is coming, but that you are first. After all, you were the one who threw dignity to the wind and literally ran to grab the yellow shirt before he crossed the line into the restricted area. No pain, no gain, people.

Once you have your items stacked on your flat cart, it is time to head to the cashier. The items look nothing like the furniture you purchased. They are long, flat cardboard containers and maneuvering the cart will feel like piloting a fuel tanker. The boxes have surprisingly sharp corners, and if you ever had a cardboard cut I think you can figure out what can happen when 200 lbs of stuff rolls towards you, cardboard corner leading the way. You must be careful, but if you amputate someone's leg at the knee, call them a sissy for whining about a paper cut, and move on. Always move on.

At long last, blood dripping from that sharp cardboard corner, you make it to the cashier. There is only one person ahead of you. Yes! Even the fact that that person has purchased 12 or so fluorescent light tubes which all have to be removed from their box and then replaced for some reason, one by one, does not deter you. You are here, you will wait, you will pay for your furniture. By the time it's your turn, there are 6 people behind you. No matter. You have blood on your packaging, that is a signal that you are not to be messed with. Not now. Not ever.

It is almost over. All that is left is arranging for delivery (heck, if you can't put those boxes onto the cart, you certainly will not be able to put them in your car) and for assembly. I strongly recommend both. The services are not very expensive and you do not want unproven friends coming over to "help" you to assemble your new furniture. It is almost inevitable that the furniture will come out crooked, unstable, and several bolts and screws will be left over. Your friends will try to tell you that IKEA adds extras, just in case, but you will know better. This, by the way, is best case scenario. Worst case, the furniture is half assembled, upside down and inside out, too heavy for you to move out of the way, and now the assembly service refuses to do anything to save you. Swell. This is a guide for surviving IKEA, but take my advice on this and save your friendships. You might need them for other things, like deaths and marriages.

And then, all of a sudden, you're free. You have purchased your furniture, you have scheduled delivery and assembly, and you have not bought six cinnabuns while you waited in line to achieve said scheduling, and you burst out of the door, into the massively overcrowded pickup area, where people jostle for a front spot while their loved ones play bumper cars to get a spot for loading. But because you have decided to have your stuff delivered, you can skip (literally, skip) past them and to the parking lot, hop into your car, and head home, knowing that you have achieved much and spent little.

Toilet!

Terminal B, New Orleans International Airport: automatic seat cover changers! What will they think of next?

My parents give the best gifts EVER!

My birthday present from my parents. This was my mom's idea, but my dad is pitching in, too. The sound quality is outstanding. And the speakers are, like, 2" in diameter! Loving playing music again.

Check out the Fact Checker

Fact Checker is an excellent blog from the Washington Post that -- you guessed it -- checks facts. Here are some good articles about Obama's connection to Ayers, McCain's statements about 30 former GITMO detainees attacking America, and McCain on equal pay.

Go, go now, it's very useful.