Spot On Your Pants

Spot On Your Lung, A Sad Story

2010-03-19T14:45:00.016-05:00

To anyone reading this blog for the first time, or maybe recently discovered it, the title is supposed to be "happy go lucky." About hindsight and taking chances, evolving, and perspective.

But, really, I bought the domain name at my old job. The company is called superDimension (go ahead, everyone else calls it superDimensia) and it's right in the middle of a beige, boring, business complex off a highway frontage road. I had just sworn off the cubicle indefinitely, but we needed my income and the technology really is cool.

Oh yeah, if you have a pet project, personal agenda, or just love to sit bare balls down on the top of the glass ceiling, you may want to apply for any open position. Just put, "I like cigars and golfing" down on your resume, and it's a shoe in for sure.

superDimensiaon designs and manufacturers lung catheters intended to travel to the outer extensions of your lungs. A surgical needle is threaded down through the catheter, where the bronchoscopist then takes a small biopsy of the "spot" (or suspicious lymph node or nodule). If you go to www.spotonyourlung.com, you can learn all about the life-saving technology.

So, "What is the correlation between the life-saving campaign and this blog name?" you may ask. A crappy t-shirt. You see, when Tom Borillo, VP of Sales and Marketing ordered a SpotOnYourLung t-shirt from his marketing budget, everyone in the company got one. But me.

I named MY site SpotOnYourPants. Juvenille, but it made me feel better, and I still like the name. And I'm about the most accident person I know. It fits.

That Friday was my last day with the company and (even despite objections from other employees) I never got a shirt. Instead, Tom said I would use it as a grease rag or just throw it away. Funny, he knew me well enough to choose grease monkey over saving lives. Yes, I realize all of this seems like a bitter rant over a $3 t-shirt. But, Tom, shame on you!

superDimension, if you are running a Google Search or any other SEO for the company, I hope this pops up. Someone I met the other day had just come from the doctor and was beside himself about three spots they found on his lung. I scrambled to find a scrap paper and a pen. "Go to this website, tell your doctor about superDimension, ask about lung catheters. Don't give up!"

You know, I may have just been wearing that t-shirt, but you'll never know how many other people could have been reading it too (around the spot, that is).

A Mother's Pride

2010-03-18T09:33:00.004-05:00

Enjoy Calvin's first sentence (see the period at the end to make it official):

It says: No mom and dad. He made about 20 of these and taped them all over his room.

Behold the fury of an angry (literate) six year old! This writing mama is proud!

Still Hungry

2010-03-16T19:31:00.007-05:00

Happy Wednesday Bloggies!

Speaking of food and being Out to Lunch, I've been spending a lot of time as Feed Me Editor with Road Trips for Families. I'm working on a iPhone App for Family Friendly Milwaukee (see others here)! Universe, you rock!

Blogging has evolved into something I wasn't expecting. Well, that's not saying much when you start without any preconceived notions. But, I've been maintaining this site since September of 2008. I was surprised to find I've posted 226 times (including this one) since then. And, how much money have I made from this blog. Exactly $0.00. I've gotten some free product, but I'm kind of picky about what I'm willing to review.

Granted, I've met a bunch of amazing people (using the term "met" loosely there). I'm up to 90 followers; that's 0.4/post (woot woot). You know, I think we blog for many reasons--to find a community of people, collaborate on a topic near and dear to your heart, grow your writing, evolve with the times (social media as a profession, anyone). A lot of us are home with our kids.

For all intensive purposes, we're broke (remember when dinner and a movie was more than a sitter). We're about to take a $50,000 to $70,000 loss on a house. We moved to a beige duplex we picked out on Craigslist, for Pete's sake. We work from home, barely see any other adults during the day, and have been breathing the same air for the past five months.

I do work part time at Blogs Mama (see text in the right-hand column), but that was my intention at Blog Her last year. To evolve blogging into a income-generating activity. I value my time and I think we (as moms and women) tend to devalue our worth. Yes, the economy is sluggish. Yes, we're pinching belts around our post-partum bellies. Totally get it. But, I work harder and longer than I ever did in a cubicle, when I was trying to pay bills online between meetings. I work around Candyland and sidewalk chalk and wiping bottoms. Honestly, Stephanie Meyer has moved up my heroine list right there with Erma Bombeck!

Someone emailed today that Boston Scientific had another recall on a defibrillator and stock price is down to below $7/share (Do it FDA, issue the warning letter!) and I just don't care. Don't get me wrong, I'm sick at the thought of the unnecessary loss of human life. Not to mention the concern patients and their families have right now (I'd be freaking out, no doubt). But, you see, I spent over ten years in the medical device industry as a Technical Writer. The most exciting cubicle I ever sat in had a window to Priscilla, my mentor (Hi Priscilla!). We pretended to order french fries with our documents.

I don't miss the beige walls, the Styrofoam cups of coffee, the endless meetings, hearing "nobody even reads the manual" ten times in a day. Am I making $100,000/year? Um, not even close. But, I'm not worried. Truly, now that I've lost a parent, I'm more worried about not taking chances than picking a plaque or a gold watch.

Not sitting in traffic. Writing with passion. Being home when the bus rounds the bend. Priceless.

My hope is that we all (us, ladies) can figure out a way to play on our assets and add value to our networking, advertising, and journalism talents. There's a whole bunch of smart mamas online. Smart mamas that sold BSCX at $17/share back in 2004. Rosie the Riveter is making a come back! Burn a bra--you know, it might just be fun!

Homeless

2010-03-14T21:30:00.004-05:00

Well, yesterday was my dad's birthday. He would have been 61. Honestly, I kind of forgot about it until today. While in Milwaukee's Historic Third Ward, we came upon some cheese orphans at the Public Market. A cheese tragedy, really. Sad ending, for sure!

I guess I kind of feel like a cheese orphan these days. We're living here in dairy country waiting for things to transpire. Not really able to react suddenly, as school calendars and dentist appointments and swimming lessons make true spontaneity improbable, if at all.

While one of my parents is dead, the other is debating a move to care for both of hers (alive and aging with an extra dash of dimensia each and every day). What is better really? To live without a parent, alone in your adulthood? Or to enjoy the freedom of retirement when it knocks at your door? And then there's the invisible pull of family obligation. A fish line wrapped around the web of a migrating duck, with Jack Frost knocking on the door.

I've been thinking a lot about passion and love and obligation these days. Being an intentional orphan and not being able to give an answer to the question, "Where are you from?" Up next, introspection followed (hopefully) by self-actualization. Freud would be proud!

Dookie

2010-03-11T15:17:00.005-06:00

What is it about dog poop that makes it seem so much more untouchable than cat poop? The idea that it should be dealt with, put into bags, carried around for the rest of your walk?

We had a dog and it pooped. A lot! Like worse than a grown man. 4 cups of dog food + moisture = 10 pounds of crap!

So, here is my beef. When we got our dog, we kind of expected it to poop. Maybe not to the Nth degree, but it wasn't a surprise or anything. And, perhaps, because the snow is melting and the brown land mines have been "hidden" for a few months, it seems like we have a major poo problem here in Sun Prairie.

Remember in Marley and Me when Marley poops on the beach and dogs are banned forever more? I kind of feel like that right now...like, how did you STILL let your dog crap on someone's yard in the snow (not exactly hard to locate, ya know) and think it will just melt with spring. News flash, it melts, thaws, and no one really wants to do the Tootsie Roll.

And, no, I did not step in it. I just see it all over and feel the need to rant. Next time, get a chimpanzee. They fling it, or so I've heard. Maybe it will hit your car and you can just wait for it to rain.

Funny Bunny

2010-03-10T08:57:00.003-06:00

In honor of ________ Wednesday, here is what happens when you ask a kid to get dressed for the day:
Sometimes I wish ruby-red slippers came in adult size 9, don't you?

Top Drawer

2010-03-08T19:22:00.007-06:00

Warning: This post may be objectionable to about 80% of my readers. Consider yourselves warned! Please close this window right now if you live or have ever lived in Caledonia, MI (my hometown).

Maybe some of you remember my dad passed away in June? Between my mom, my sister, and I, we cleaned his house and went through his belongings. Got rid of the cat boxes, stocked the light bulbs, thawed the freezer (fuzzy ice cubes and all). Truthfully, it's a creepy feeling. Imagine someone finding your wart stick, your stained underwear, the nasty toilet brush. It's really personal and something you have to detach from when you are the one doing it. My dad thought he was having elective surgery, but died after a month in the hospital. It's not like he planned ahead and did a personal inventory of his house.

If you remember, I did a review for Eden Fantasys last November called Pee in Your Pants. Mostly I talked about incontinence and suggested a way to help tighten your vah jay jay muscles with something called Smart Balls. I still have them and they are great, but you know, if I drop over dead tomorrow, someone's going to have to decide what to do with them.

When we looked in my dad's top dresser drawer, thankfully we found a high school photo of my mom, old handkerchiefs, and one of those things for getting pet hair off your slacks. When Eden Fantasies contacted me recently about another review, I wanted to talk about things you leave behind. I'm not going to post any photos, but will make some suggestions here.

Take this costume. No wonder she's a summer school dropout! This could be a feather duster or a tickler, really it's hard to tell. Plus, I always dust with an ostrich feather, you know. And Lovin Lamb is so cute. I'd take one to a farm party! Bondage duckie is clearly migrating somewhere other than with the flock.

Whether you have Smart Balls or a costume not worn on Halloween, I guess you have to be comfortable with the idea and trust your legacy will live on, top drawer secrets and all! We're all leaving here one way and, well, some of us need wart stick and probably should replace a toilet brush or two.

Meaningful Data

2010-03-06T19:53:00.003-06:00

This just in, Calvin's entire kindergarten class likes Valentines Day. Peer pressure or meaningless information? We may just never know.

A*s Factor

2010-03-04T20:43:00.004-06:00

Ever wonder why underpants sizes are about four smaller than that of your jeans? Is the marketing strategy to make you feel better about the size of your bee hind or is it to fill that top dresser drawer right up?

Maybe our country would have a better collective self-esteem and avoid the obesity crisis if we universally implemented the underpants mentality? I also have a conspiracy theory that certain stores (cough*Gap*cough) do this with all their clothes. Example: At Kohls, I'm a 12/14, but at the Gap I'm an 8/10. An instant diet right there in the dressing room (woo hoo). Kind of makes me want to get more crap at the Gap, you know what I mean?

At least these guys aren't afraid to tighty their whiteies. Exercise and underpants, what a concept! What's next, thongs for the masses?

I borrowed this picture from Timex. Brilliant idea, by the way. I'd draft with this pack any day of the week!

Popping Out

2010-03-02T22:06:00.005-06:00

Last week I visited my son's elementary school on "special" people day. While picking up a visitor badge at the main office, I noticed two giant trash cans (one full and one half full) of pop can tabs. Wait, is it soda here in Wisconsin? Oh, you know, these:

It turns out the collection of "tabs" is a fundraiser for the Ronald McDonald house and the school had gathered the equivalent of 21 free nights to a deserving family. And, as I was staring at the giant sign that said, "Please do not touch!", all I felt was an overwhelming sense of sadness.

In a small town in a small school, enough families donated one and a half trash cans of pop tabs! The secretary seemed kind of taken aback when I said, "You know, it makes me really sad that the school is collecting tabs instead of some other donation. Just think of all the families drinking pop and probably thinking nothing of it. I'm also sad because our family doesn't drink pop and we won't be able to help with this one."

I felt kind of bee-yatchy after the fact, and it's not like we couldn't give money at our next trip to McDonalds (go ahead, call me a hypocrite). I'm just saying the whole thing made me a little depressed. The end. Off to bed.

Gettin' Dressed in New Orleans!

2010-03-01T08:32:00.009-06:00

Nothing has changed with this picture, except the lack of giant patches of skin from my inner thighs and the inability to use my "squatting" muscles (You know, the muscles used stop you from free falling right onto airport toilets. Never do this. Ever.) Rest assured cheese heads, I brought some warm weather back with me this time!

Here's a shout out to Karen and Dave, the inspiration behind registering, training, and succeeding in a questionably insane decision to train for a 1/2 marathon in Wisconsin in winter. I am absolutely looking forward to riding a bike, but saying that with the confidence of someone who has endurance and a desire to heal her shins.

Epiphanies, hallucinations, and inspiration aside, here's to living in the moment and taking it all in! Like this mannequin, for example. One has to wonder, why the nips? Is the expo hall cold? And no bra (and a padded one at that)? Yes we checked...the hussy! How much more complex is an anatomically-correct mannequin mold? And who is enjoying this moment more? Karen and I or our friends in the mirror? Mardi Gras is over, y'all!

Thanks guys, I had a really fun time!

Beat It

2010-02-28T17:01:00.002-06:00

What really happened to Michael Jackson? Ever wonder?

Blue Moooon

2010-02-24T10:03:00.004-06:00

It's almost time. Time to leave all the frozen Wisconsin cows and hit the bayou for the Mardi Gras Rock N Roll 1/2 marathon! Sunday is the "big" day and if I survive all 13.something miles, I'll post some inspirational words of hindsight (or maybe just how somebody spit on me and how a maxi-pad chafed my vah jay jay the entire time).

A friend of mine was talking to me about our 10 Circles of influence the other day. Like, as women and moms and citizens and friends, we constantly maintain ten different "things" in our lives. For me, training for this race was a circle that kept growing and shrinking in size for the past few months (like a living, breathing thing). Now I just imagine it as a grape turning into a raisin, as shin splints have been a major buzz kill.

Until this year I honestly tried to avoid "driving" 13.something miles, but I really do feel a sense of pride and accomplishment in sticking it through the winter. Really, all I need to do is not die this weekend and it's then its all good for spring.

Also I admit, I've been neglecting this (my blog) circle a bit too. As it turns out, writing for Road Trips for Families is satisfying my wanderlust gene. Check out the Feed Me posts and let me know if you have any cool places to suggest.

AND Twitter is sucking me in in a good way too. I know, I know, I've been eating crow all week. Three gray hairs later, I figured out how to add the Tweet Me and Facebook buttons to each post. One small step for man kind...

Here is my mid-year resolution to you all. Better writing. More humor. Less facial hair. Stay tuned and thanks for all your patience and support. Group hug. Now go choke down the vomit and have a great Hump Day.

Bending the Truth

2010-02-22T18:16:00.013-06:00

Travis had four conference calls today, so I decided to take the littler two kids out to lunch as a treat to them and him.

On the way to the restaurant, bits and pieces of this little story re-created a scene from the morning trip to daycare.

Owen: Mommy, daddy bumped the car into another car this morning.
Marie: Yeah, he crashed it.
Me: Oh really, were you going fast?
Owen: Yeah, but we didn't crack our heads off.
Me: Was anyone hurt?
Marie: No, but daddy gave the other man a paper with our phone number on it.
Owen: Daddy was really naughty!
Marie: Is he in trouble?
Me: BIG trouble.

In the rear view mirror I saw two little heads look at each other and grin.

Riddle me this: Is it better to hide an accident from your spouse or leave the news in the hands of the kids? As punishment, here is a photo from many years ago (The"formerly my favorite wool sweater" incident).

Stupid Human Tricks

2010-02-20T17:52:00.003-06:00

This is what my blog posts have come to this week: the plight of my children (America's future at folly, for better or worse). With that, imagine a sleeping baby bunny having a dream. Only Calvin can re-create it on demand:

After five straight days of various illnesses and ailments, we're finally crawling over the lip of the Petri dish. I've been snagging random photos of cows and will make another tribute to Wisconsin soon. Until then, keep writing. I'm living vicariously through you all.

Not Gonna Do It

2010-02-17T10:23:00.007-06:00

Wouldn't be Prudent!

Pants on the Ground

2010-02-15T10:13:00.003-06:00

Pants on the ground, pants on the ground

Lookin' like a fool with your pants on the ground

With the gold in your mouth, hat turned sideways

Pants hit the ground, call yourself a cool cat, lookin' like a fool

Walkin' downtown with your pants on the ground. Giddy-up!

Hey, get your pants off the ground. Lookin' like a fool

Walkin', talkin' with your pants on the ground. Giddy-up!

Hey, get your pants off the ground. Lookin' like a fool with your pants on the ground.

A Six Day Affair

2010-02-13T13:32:00.007-06:00

I've been somewhere these past six days. Not fully engaging in the monotony of life, the laundry, packing lunches, my job. I've lost sleep. My mind is wandering. And up until a few hours ago, our house was as dirty as I've ever let it get.

Where have I been? Lost in the Pacific Northwest. In Italy. On an island somewhere off the coast of South America. In forests, a reservation, a meadow, and on the beach. My friends were there with me--shape-changers, teenagers, and even vampires. My brain expanded through each twist and turn in the plot.

It's been a long time since I've been unable to put a book down. As if my mind wasn't completely exhausted by the bizarreness of my manic-depressive relatives eagerly waiting for the apocalypse to come (Florida trip explanation soon). I started reading Twilight on Sunday night. Through two glorious child-free flights. Into the morning and then started New Moon the next day. I was like a drug addict needing a fix. It's like one giant frost has simultaneously killed every poppy field in the entire world. 2000 pages in the blink of an eye.

A crack in my heart ached as it expanded, butterflies of first love woke from their cozy nap. Emotions I can't name are still there, waiting to be over-analyzed for months to come. I loved feeling them again...disengaging from this blog, the chores, and every standard I set for myself. The experience was healthy and unhealthy in equally different ways. And then, the albatross rose again!

Whatever anxiety I feel about "life being too short" disappeared in the long, slow moments of this week. And, as I re-lived the passion of a first kiss, a broken heart, and the feeling that anything is possible, doors to chapters of my life were closing in a formality I had never accepted before. (I hid the key to the dead bolt.)

Before I knew who she was, I watched a television segment on Stephenie Meyer and her experience writing the book series. I distinctly remember her talking about having to stop and step back into reality, feed her kids, make dinner, and the frustration and burning desire to push through it all. As I come back to this post, having wiped a bottom and broken up an argument, I wonder if Stephenie ever wished for the life of the creatures she so skillfully created? Would she miss her family? Her fans? The rites of passage?

To live perfectly, immortally, forever with your soul mate, with no burdens and nothing but time.

#WW

2010-02-10T08:24:00.003-06:00

Believe it or not, the first day of Spring is only six weeks away!

The Cure for Everything

2010-02-08T14:51:00.004-06:00

The cure for everything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea.

Isn't that a beautiful quote? My trip to Florida was a bit melancholy and mostly surreal. I'm not ready to write about it yet. If you click on this picture and look to the very end of the island, it is where I ran to yesterday. I'm not sure how far it was, really it didn't matter. It all passed like a moment and an eternity.

The wind was strong, the water was cold, and the sky was foreboding. It was perfect. I felt strong. Little birds darted in and out of the surf, trusting I was as interested in my path as much as they were in food. A mutual respect. And, briefly (just briefly) the secrets and the power of the sea didn't completely terrify me. I've seen death and it has seen my tears. And salt water held everything together in temporary harmony...

The Night Watch

2010-02-05T08:25:00.004-06:00

We all know the economy is bad all across our country. Hard times in the tourist and service industries have contributed to a record-high unemployment rate down in Florida. And, here's a new, creative, way to cut costs.

All over Southern Florida, displaced night watchmen are updating their resumes (and getting hunting licenses). At least the Department of Natural Revenue should make a come back soon.

A Four Hour Layover

2010-02-04T10:01:00.002-06:00

Sometime in the four hour layover at the Cincinnati airport, I wandered into a gift shop. My purchase, a post card I feel truly speaks for the people of Kentucky. Surely, there must be more. A zoo? A museum? A Civil War monument? This just makes me want to find some live bait and a wife-beater undershirt and head down to the public boat launch. We're off to the Naples monkey zoo...I'm sure this will help me miss the kids even more...stay tuned!

Acid Trip Farming

2010-02-02T08:33:00.003-06:00

Angry Combine Eats Rainbow Crop

Some where over the rainbow...skies are blue? And you wonder why the price of grain is so high. Gotta feed the beast! Consider this an early Wordless Wednesday. Stay tuned for more bizarre sightings...from the South. Grit monster...get back!

A Numbers Game

2010-01-30T19:45:00.010-06:00

Have I mentioned I'm training for a 1/2 marathon? You know, the Rock 'n' Roll 1/2 Marathon in New Orleans, now less than a month away? Every weekend I've been risking life and limb in this endeavor, and today's lesson was to first drink water (not wine) after a nine mile run.

Honestly, until today, I seriously questioned if I could run the entire 13.something miles. Remember, I'm running without entertainment (Blue Moon incident) on a glue-factory (c)ankle. Because short cuts are not beneath me, I had Travis drive nine miles down a country road and push me out the minivan (later I discovered it was actually 9.1 and now I am embellishing for sympathy).

I'm proud to say, I made it home in exactly one hour and forty minutes. [Pausing to take pictures of South Park cows, two traffic lights, and a smidge of a walk up a hill on miles 7.5 and 8.5.] I had plenty of time to write this blog post in my head, but regret these photos were taken with my cell phone camera. Bear with me, here goes:

I ran by no less than five dairy farms. Why do cows stare at you in unison like some episode of South Park? These cows, in particular, freaked me out. What is this? Texas? Why the long horns! Maybe the mural on the side of their barn offers some explanation:

I have another (stranger) image from this place, but I am saving it in Wordless Wednesday files. Evil, I know, mwa ha ha ha!

After the first three dairy farms (say within the first thirty-two minutes), I recognized this water tower in the distance. At the time, I think this is the water tower closest to our house. But, NO, that one is another 1.5 miles off the frame of this shot (!).

Here I pretend this tin man lawn ornament is a really nice spectator (secretly wishing he was stationed at a water table with straight gin). Another home had decorated two lawn turkeys with red bows (WTF), and during a moment of hallucination I decided fresh manure smelled a little bit like dollar store jelly beans. Did I mention this was a really long run?

I called my friend Karen (who I blame for this lapse in sane thinking) at fifty minutes. Apparently it was thirty degrees in Louisiana (on her 11 mile run) this morning...I tried to be sympathetic, but three minutes into the call Jack Frost found my exposed hand and ear. And it only took me five mintues to remove all the clothing layers when I finally got home!

Karen and I are both blogging our race stories with the New Orleans The Times-Picayune here. You know, it's hard to be a whiner with your first post is adjacent to the one for the Olympic runner from Kenya! We're not entirely sure we know what we are doing.

With that, here's a preview into next weekend's headline: Wisconsin Mom Blinds Half of Florida with Her Snow-White Legs! One resident quotes, "We love Snow White, but even Walt Disney mercifully went with the full-length dress."

Young @ Heart

2010-01-29T08:30:00.006-06:00

GOOD BYE WISCONSIN!
HELLO FLORIDA!
We all know going on vacation can be dangerous!
But, the risk is worth the memories:
This year it's just me visiting my grandma (dang school calendar is getting in the way :-). She's 93 and Mountain Dew is her fountain of youth! Last night I watched the documentary Young @ Heart. It's funny how my dad is dead and his mom is still hanging on...how some people go kicking and screaming and others just fade away. Watch Young @ Heart if you want to laugh/cry for about an hour and a half. It will change your day.

With so many things to do before the trip (five more days!), I promise to send funny antidotes from the road. [I almost always sit by the Ozzy Osborne impersonators on the airplane anyway, so it's just a matter of time and the material practically hops into Blogger.] Under water until then!