Thank you, India. Thank you, terror. Thank you, disillusionment.

You know, sometimes you find opportunities for gratitude exactly where you'd expect;
a coach who helps your kid, a kid who actually does all the stuff expected and then goes an extra mile, a kind friend who once again shows love to you with a gesture that speaks of an intimate knowledge of your heart.

But SOMETIMES,
these opportunities arrive camouflaged, well-hidden in the shadows of annoyance, frustration, time-pressures, and stereotypes.

So to you, mean mom at Target who was screaming at her kids, cussing at the clerk, and generally being a nightmare of a human being, to you I say thank you.

When I saw you, I was aghast in a superior and distant sort of way. Your dirty-faced kids, scruffy appearance and foul-mouthed ranting at the lady from the store about coupon specials made me feel a haughty sort of pity for your family.
When I ended up in the check-out line behind you I was annoyed. I had one item, and the $5 bill to pay for it in my hand, waiting impatiently, and your rude, loud urchins were unpiling a UNICEF life flight quantity of store-brand microwaveable quasi-food items and mac n' cheese onto the convey belt.
When the older kid decided to shove the cart as hard as she could into her little brother and he fell back toward me, it was instinct to catch him. The fact you didn't turn around at his yell surprised me a little, but at least you did decide to look when you heard me ask if he was ok.
Your whole face changed when you saw the red mark on his forehead. Instead of some heinous *itch at the store you suddenly looked to me like a fellow mommy who loves her boy.
When you thanked me and apologized and I said you were welcome, then added, "We've all been there," I pretty much meant it.
Then,
you stepped out of the shadows I'd cast all around you and created that moment.
"You only have that one thing? Why don't you just go ahead of us."

It wasn't a kidney, it was one moment of your time, but in giving it to me you reminded me of how stereotyping closes my mind and heart and no one deserves to be regarded that way, even if I don't act on it noticeably.
So thank you, thank you for being a better person than I was being in that moment.
Thank you for reminding me that most of us are just doing the best we can at any given time to make it through life and the benefit of the doubt is really the very least I owe my fellow-humans.

It happened again!!

I had a list of books on hold from the library and they were taking forever.
Ok,
well, I got some of the book I own and haven't read yet taken care of and then I bought a book (it was Nick Hornby, and was only $1.99, even in restrospect, I do not regret that choice, the pink skullhead journal [originally $12.99] for only $1.50 may have been a mistake even with that enormous discount, but I spend more on coffee some days and I can always give it away as a gift...if I can find someone who likes pink and little skulls all over their blank books) and then I stopped at the library and found a book on the shelves I'd been wanting to read (A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson, he sort of turned me off with his book about his travels in America but I did like his book about Europe, and the book about Australia was really fun so I decided to take a chance on it and I even found the version of the book for kids called A Really Short History of Nearly Everything, which Thing Two and I are going to read together as a warm up for starting school soon) so I brought that home as well.
Now, wouldn't you know it, I log into my email today and guess what is awaiting me?
An email notification that I have 4 library books awaiting pick-up at my local library branch, FOUR BOOKS!
How does this happen?!
I was between number 6 and number 20 in those hold lists; how do 4 of them land on the hold shelf at the exact same time??
So now I have school rapidly approaching, 5 library books to finish in two weeks, and I'm halfway through the Nick Hornby so I really want to finish that as well.

Oh, and I'm on the board this year for that co-operative school we are involved with, and there are some fascinating complications in my life due to that.
The program Access™?
Yeah, it is a tool of satan.
I'm also the social media chick for the free clinic I volunteer with, and now I'm helping with PR in general.
Soooo, basically?
As much as I'd like to just lock myself in my room and read, I don't know if that is going to happen.

Eat me!

My dear pal Lime did a food bio meme she found over at Cooper's place.

Ten food that define who I am,
here goes;

1. Pizza, from the rock-hard, whole wheat rectangles my mom specialized in, the Chicago style place Mr. Logo and I loved as newlyweds, to the authentic Neopolitan magic we ate in Italy and have located in Seattle and the yummy american-style place we love here locally, pizza plays a prominent and delicious role in my life.

2. Yorkshire pudding, with leg of lamb or roast beast, served with mint jelly, gravy, mashed 'tatoes, and usually peas. My gramma made this, my mama made this, and sometimes I do too. So delicious and tastes like big family dinner.

3. Nachos, of the homemade sort. This is one of the things my friends and I would eat TONS of as teens, huge cookie sheets full of tortilla chips loaded with toppings and broiled til the cheese was bubbly and the chips were starting to brown on the upper tips. Yum
This is still a favorite of mine, just made some last week!

4. Sixlets, discovered at the corner store by my grandparents' house and a much-loved nostalgic treat ever since.

5. Napoleons, the pastry, OH EM GEE! Also called Mille Feuille, and delicious either way. Discovered as a child at the local bakery and much prized. We didn't do a lot of bakery shopping and when we did it tended to be that we had to order the run-of-the-mill donut rather than a Napoleon. Once I was earning my own money I would indulge more often. I last had one of these at a friend's house about two weeks ago. I exercised a great deal of self control and did not hurt any of the other guests in an attempt to take their serving.... but I thought about it.

6. Cinnamon rolls, oooh how I love cinnamon rolls. Regardless of the fact they can take hours I actually love them enough that I make them from scratch periodically. My sister made some last time I was visiting and her son calls them "Lovin' from the oven."

7. Waffles, I have loved waffles ever since I can remember. Recently, (after I failed to prepare food for the children at what COULD have been considered dinner time) my honey said, "What are you going to do if I die?" Thing One said, "Live on hot dogs and mac n' cheese." Thing Two and Mr. Logo immediately replied, "No, she wouldn't!" Thing Two added, "She hates those!"
Thing One admitted, "You're right. Oh! I know, waffles! She'd live on waffles."
This could be true.

8. Eggs Benedict, I didn't discover Eggs Benedict til I was an adult but when Mr. Logo is looking to really impress me with breakfast in bed he knows this is the sure hit. One of the local places does a crab Eggs Benedict, mmmm, yummy.

9. Curry, whether Indian or Thai is always a big, big hit for me these days. My mom's curry was never my favorite though. I don't know if I grew into it or if the curry of my adult life had just been better. My mother, a woman of diverse and sundry skills, was perhaps not the most talented chef ever to walk a kitchen floor. Either way, I love it now. I enjoy it when Mr. Logo makes it, I will actually even make it myself, and adore eating it at the local Thai place. We don't have an Indian place very close to home but when I do visit one, I always enjoy it.

10. Casseroles, this is to provide some contrast. I, as a general rule, despise casseroles. If it contains pre-processed veggies, canned condensed mushroom soup base, or Bisquick, chances are...I'd rather have a sandwich or a bowl of cereal. There are very, VERY few exceptions to this rule.
Mr. Logo considers this damage from my youth; I call it having a moderately discriminating palate.
When my friend (who specializes in french cooking) made us a casserole a few months ago she started with a roux, fresh veggies, and chicken stock she'd made herself. I cannot even begin to tell you how delicious that dish was, mmmmm, fantastic.


So there you have it, some food favorites.
When you inviting me for dinner?

lefties ROCK!

It is International Lefthander's Day

Lefties have rights, you know!



Trivia
Left Handed Facts and Trivia:

Sinistrophobia is the fear of left-handedness or things on the left side.
While many people are left handed, very few are 100% left handed. For example, many Left handers golf and bat right handed. On the other hand, there is a high percentage of righties who are 100% right-handed.
Lefties are also called "southpaws". The term was coined in baseball to describe a left handed pitcher.
Tuesdays are Lefties luck day.
Only about 10% of the population is left handed.
During the 1600's people, thought left handers were witches and warlocks.
International Left Hander's Day was first celebrated on August 13, 1976. It was started by Lefthander's International.
They say everyone was born right handed, and only the greatest overcome it. (he,he,he)
It is believed that all polar bears are left handed.

ALSO!!
According to this article,
I'm a creative problem solver and forgetful because I'm a lefty,
which means it's genetic, so get off my back, maaaaaaan.

Random much?

• I made nachoes yesterday, they were so delicious.
• I bought a basket for trash in our vehicle. There's still wrappers on the floor.
• Dust seems to migrate purposefully to my house.
• I hate it when I turn something on and the volume is already set so loud it rattles my teeth.
• Are we sure a little child abuse is really such a bad thing?
• I think I'm going to go buy a book today.

Warning, warning* POV ahead*

Sooooo,
someone posted this little quote on their Facebook or somewhere;

Most of us will never be the beautiful girl. We’ll never have the prettiest eyes or the blondest hair. We’ll never have the flattest stomach or the most flawless skin. We will probably never have an impenetrable heart. We will never become exactly who we expected to be. But this doesn’t mean a thing. You’re beautiful with scars on your knees and freckles on your chest. You’re beautiful with the frizzy hair and the dark chocolate eyes.

What the hell is that about?!

This strikes me as deeply problematic, but it's not the surface reassurance that is my issue.
I agree wholeheartedly with the assessment that every human is beautiful and worthy exactly as they are.
I am a more than a little appalled at the underlying assumption that if you aren't blonde, airbrushed, and bitchy, you should be feeling inferior. The implication is that if that is not what you are, it is what you should have wanted to be.

Who the hell EXPECTED to be that, exactly??

I have NEVER had the least blind bit of interest in possessing an impenetrable heart, nor have I ever associated that with being beautiful,
psychopathic perhaps, but not beautiful.

What I do have, I have scars and freckles. Red frizz is the natural state of my hair.

And you know what?

I have absolutely no need for some lousy, consolation-prize declaration telling me I'm beautiful even though I'm not all thing things some jackass deemed actually beautiful.

Don't re-enforce idiocy in a lame attempt to be faux encouraging.

I am smart, funny, weird, fierce, cute, and loving. I am more than enough.