Patience

The word in the title is this week's writing prompt for a kickass group of women singer songwriters. You can find them on Facebook or on their youtube channel. Fourteen women. One song a week. 52 weeks. You really should go meet them now. The group of women are varied in age, style, and geographical location...but linked by love of song and the community spirit. I am so very much looking forward to seeing and hearing what they do in the upcoming year.

I had thought I might try to jump start my blogging (AGAIN) by using the weekly prompts. I didn't really think that the first one would be quite so timely.

I resigned from my job today. It hadn't been very much fun for a while, and things became unbearable over the past 10 days. The reasons aren't much fun to rehash, so I will refrain from doing so. However, it leaves me at loose ends (AGAIN) as far as what I want to be when I grow up.

There are a number of jobs that I think are more than jobs. Jobs that help define (to greater or lesser extent) who a person is. I don't just work as a nurse. I am a nurse. I was out with a co-worker some months back, and we were introduced to someone. In the usual way of small talk, we were asked, "What do you do?" I answered, "I'm a nurse." I indicated towards my friend and said, "She is a creative, free spirit, but she pays the bills by working in the administrative side of our practice." I didn't even know which words were going to come out of my mouth, but I knew that introducing her as "whatever-her-actual-job-title-was" would have been incorrect.

So, what does a nurse who isn't working do? I suppose looking for a job is priority number one. I will begin that process again over the weekend. It has now been two years since I returned to Atlanta from Houston. There has been little of that two years when I felt that the job I was doing was what I was meant to do. I'm really struggling with that. I know that I will land on my feet. I know I can get another j.o.b. I'm more frustrated about the fact that I'm not doing what I am supposed to be doing. I keep finding things that aren't quite right...for one reason or another.

I'm really, really patient when it comes to waiting in lines and sitting in traffic...this patience as I find the right spot for me to be the wonderful nurse that I know that I am is quite a bit more difficult to manage...but I will get there. In the meantime, if anyone has any patience to spare, I'm accepting.

Wherein I get a little crafty..and purple

The problem with being unemployed (well, aside from the obvious) is having time to do things and not having the money to do them.

I have had supplies for a couple of projects on hand and have been working on them the past week or so...here they are.

Recycling 2 Canvases for Bedroom

I definitely consider myself crafty rather than an artist, and fortunately, I'm completely okay with that. While I lived in Houston I had painted canvases directed by a project in The Big Ass Book of Crafts. If you like to DIY but put yourself in the same category as I put myself, this is an awesome book! However, they didn't fit in my new house. So, I covered up the old paintings with white and started over. I first did a wash (or maybe there is a more appropriate artistic term for it) in a pale pinkish gray. I thought I took a picture of that step, but it has disappeared. Then I painted 4th grade style flowers on branches, gave them a few details and painted leaves. Some of my leaves look kinda like bananas, and the turquoise is darker than I had wanted, but I'm happy with them.

Once I hang them and a few other prints, I will show you guys a "bigger picture" idea of what the room looks like.



The Card Catalogue

This is the project that might get some people riled up. Last July I was fortunate to come into possession of a library card catalogue. I posted this photo on FB and asked if it would be total blasphemy to paint it. Of course, asking the question indicates that I had some mixed feelings about painting it. My problem was that I wanted to use it in the kitchen, which is white, white, white with splashes of purple (my favorite color). There are only 3 narrow drawers in the kitchen, and none are wide enough for dividers for utensil storage. I wanted to use the card catalogue in the kitchen for utensils, seasoning envelopes, and whatever other small items I decide should go there. I sat with the wood in the kitchen until this weekend, and just couldn't make it work. So out came the paints...

First, the Cistern (who is going live on a new computer system this week and likely to be scarce) took off all the hardware. I meant to take a photo of all the pieces, but it didn't happen.

Second, I painted the outer cabinet white and the drawers three different shades of purple. I topped it with 3 coats of Minwax **water based** polycrylic. If you don't know about this stuff, you should. This is the second project I have used it on, and water based is one of the most beautiful phrases in the English language.

Here is a photo of the mid-project chaos...

And here is the finished product on the kitchen counter...

One more photograph of the window over the sink (which is to the right of the catalogue). I have the coolest and weirdest curtains in the world in that window. I got them at THIS awesome website.

So, any projects in the works? How did you spend your weekend? Feedback or questions about my funky card catalogue?

They want to get ALL up in my business

There hasn't been much mainstream news media coverage about this, I actually tried to find a link that was a more "neutral" source and could not.

House Republicans blocked a measure Tuesday night that would have let the Federal Communications Commission prevent employers from forcing workers to reveal their Facebook passwords

This makes me nervous, pisses me off and irritates me to no end.

I have had pre-employment drug testing for every single job I have had since age 21. As a nurse, I totally understand why this is necessary. I think that it would open my employers to liability if they did NOT use drug screening. I think the same applies to construction workers, truck drivers and other professions. I understand and appreciate people who choose not to work for employers who drug test, but it simply isn't an option for me--given my choice of profession.

This FB thing is a totally and completely different level of invasion of privacy.

Georgia is a "right to work" state. This means that an employer can fire me for any reason that isn't protected by Federal law (race, sex, religion, etc.). Now they want to REQUIRE me to give them my Facebook password? Not just look at my Facebook page, but have my password. They want to be able to look at Every.Single.Post...even the ones that are not public? They want to be able to see every single message I sent privately? They want to have the ability to Log In as me?

I have heard people say that this is to cut down on employees wasting time while on the clock. I do not believe this for a single second. One does not need FB or even computer access to goof off when they should be working. (Remember the Nerf basketball hoops that used to be over every door?)

They want to get information about me. What could they possibly see on my FB page that would reasonably make them want to fire me or choose not to hire me in the first place? Will someone have concerns about my political beliefs? Will they check to see how many days I complained of a migraine? Will they frown on the fact that I posted my (painted) breasts to the internet to raise money for breast cancer research? Will they count the times I use the f-word? I have always taken care not to say crazy shit about my job on FB or on this site (which I link to on FB). However, I do say things that I would not say on the job, much less during the interview process.

FB pages have information that they are not allowed to ask in an interview...age, medical problems, marital status, pregnancy, number of children. To say that this is anything short of an invasion of privacy is preposterous. In this electronic age, FB takes the place of written letters, private emails, and gives a peek into my life that I do not want to be FORCED to give anyone. I don't really have anything to hide. I have cousins as young as 13 and conservative family members as friends on my FB page. I don't censor every single thing I say, but I don't have a lifestyle that forces me to do that. However, even if I did have outrageous statements, photos and more on my page, why should an employer have access to that?

This is a slippery slope, and it concerns me very much. If there is the presumption of privacy within my own home (if I remember to log out before giving anyone else my computer to borrow), why should employers be able to require employees to sacrifice this privacy?

What are your thoughts? Is my reaction reasonable? Or is it just a case of the redhead getting bent out of shape over something that isn't a big deal? What would you do if a potential or current employer REQUIRED you to give them your password?

************PS--What are you guys using to keep up with blogs? I have been using the Wordpress reader leftover from my old blog, but I seem to be missing LOTS of posts.**********************************************************

Saying Good-bye to Eric Lowen

I was sitting in the theater Friday night waiting for The Hunger Games to start. It was after 11:30. I had gone to the movie spur-of-the-moment by myself. I was idly checking FB to pass the time. And I saw the post that made my heart sink.

Posted by Dan Navarro:
"At 5:13 pm Pacific time today, March 23, 2012, Eric Lowen peacefully ended his nine-year standoff with ALS (aka Lou Gehrig's Disease), surrounded by family and awash in love, gratitude and beautiful music. We all appreciate the support and well wishes that have come his way these many years, and will always hold dear the shining example he was, and still is, to us all."

I almost left the theater, but decided to stay for the movie. The moment I left, I burst into tears--running for the car. I sat sobbing for several minutes before I drove home. I knew this was going to happen. When I blew a kiss to him and turned away at The Birchmere in Alexandria, VA on June 6, 2009, I knew that I would never see Eric again.

I first met Eric when he and Dan Navarro joined my buddy Don Conoscenti on stage at Eddie's Attic on February 8, 2003. Sure, I had heard of the duo Lowen & Navarro before, but even though music is my biggest passion, there is only one me and there are MANY talented artists out there. One of my best buddies and I had just returned from crashing Folk Alliance in Nashville. I remembered passing a room where Dan and Eric were playing. They were somewhat of an odd couple. Eric--tall enough to make a mandolin look like a toy & straight blonde hair. Dan--less tall, and a mop of dark curls. What happened on stage that night was everything I love about live music. I never was sure who was supposed to open and who was the headliner. The three friends decided to just play. They played some of Don's songs, some of Lowen & Navarro's songs, some covers, and some shit they made up on the spot. They laughed, they sang outrageously beautiful harmonies, they insulted each other and made fun of me and some others along the way. They collaborated on songs they had never sung together before. There were shenanigans. It was magic. It was imperfect--yet perfectly wonderful.

After the show Don introduced me to his friends. There are times when you meet people and things just click. Tina and I stayed out past our bedtimes and had a blast. In the following years I would see Dan and Eric play in five more states. Sometimes there was a chance to hang out after, and sometimes not. If the timing was excellent, we would grab a bite before or after the show. At some point, I mentioned to Eric that Sunday lunch with my Poppa was a weekly tradition. I never saw him again that he didn't ask how the previous Sunday's meal had been.

I admired Eric before we were ever introduced. After his diagnosis, I would learn how well-deserved that admiration had been. He demonstrated a grace, strength, dignity and determination that amazed me. He did everything he could to help others who had the diagnosis. He wrote the song, "Learning to Fall" and recorded it with a group of 30 people affected by the disease. If watching that doesn't move you, nothing will.

Dan and Eric's most well-know song is often attributed to Pat Benatar, but I know better. If I have the correct information, it was one of the first they wrote together. This video of the two of them singing "We Belong" was recorded after Eric's diagnosis. It shows his and Dan's wonderful musical talent. It also shows the amount of grace with which he approached his disease--which at this time had him walking with a cane and using a thumb pick due to loss of finger dexterity.

He was a special person. He left a mark on my heart and on the hearts of many, many others.

Travel well, my friend. Travel well.

I can be pretty stupid for a smart person

I have never claimed to be a whiz when it comes to household finances. I generally get bills, put them in a stack on a flat surface, and hope that said flat surface doesn't get completely covered up before I remember to pay the bill. With the occasional exceptions, my failure to pay a bill has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with how much money I have available. I admit that my process has flaws.

The ability to see and pay bills online, over the telephone, auto pay, etc. has been helpful. However, I hit a stretch where I had to turn off the auto pay because the timing just wasn't working for me.

My furnace died the coldest week of the admittedly mild winter. It took several days for the repair folks to identify and attempt to repair the problem. Then they figured out that a new furnace was needed. The crawl space in my home is so small, that they actually had to dig out a larger area to squeeze the new furnace through to the very small area that opens up. My sister called me a lamer for not going down to look and see if it was just the pilot light, but the guy who came to work on it said it was about the worse crawl space he had ever seen.

Fast forward to Spring and the first warmish weather we have had. Of course, the A/C goes out. I also get an extremely high gas bill and decide it is time to finally tell my landlord that the water heater also needs work due to a leak. I noticed the leak about the same time as the furnace, and just didn't have the heart to tell her. She doesn't do rental property for a living, but used to live in this house and is hoping to get a better return on her investment than she would have when she got married and moved out.

The next night I prepare for my nightly bath ritual. Take meds, warm bath, read in bed, hopefully fall asleep at a reasonable time. This has been my routine for longer than I can remember. I'm letting the water run to warm while I brush my teeth...and....nothing remotely warmish is coming out of the tap. I start an email to my landlord to tel her that the water heater is now a higher priority than the A/C.

Thankfully, before I hit "send," I have a thought. My extremely high gas bill. I go find it in my stack of papers and while I had been correct about the due date of April 4th, I had failed to notice that it was a bill for 2 months...with a notice that my gas *could* be shut off as of That.very.day. Crap! I know it is my fault, but I curse the gas company for writing the note about potential cutoff in the corner with type the same size as everything else. I wonder why I didn't get one of those brightly colored postcards telling me to get my shit together. (I know they used to send them, I have gotten more than 3 in my life.) I curse the fact that my abysmal credit rating (which may or may not be related to my marriage or divorce) forced me to be on a pre-pay plan that does not cut me very much slack.

I am then grateful that I have the money to pay the bill. I jump online and do this immediately. I am grateful that I have a sister 0.5 miles away who will let me use her facilities and not mock me for my stupidity. I call the Customer Service department with my payment confirmation number in hand...only to jump through the series of "press this for that" and end up being told that they aren't open that late. I wash my face and go to bed.

So, the A/C is fixed...and it didn't cost my landlord anything...that's a good thing. They came out and turned on the gas today, so I only had to bathe at my sister's house for 2 days. Also, I should have a higher functioning or new water heater by tomorrow when someone comes to look at it...and if I'm lucky, that will leave me able to take a bath as hot as I wish, rather than really, really close to how hot I want it.

So, how have your appliances been treating you?

Trayvon Martin

If you haven't heard the story about Trayvon Martin, get ready to be disappointed. Perhaps this article is the best place to start. I encourage you to follow all the links included as I did. I encourage you to get as many details as you can tolerate. I promise the 911 audio will break your heart.

I am disappointed in the police department of Sanford, Florida who chose not to charge Zimmerman with a crime simply based on the fact that he claimed self defense. In my mind, self defense should not apply to someone who was in his car, in contact with the police, and chased the victim despite being told by the police not to do so. The police chose not only to believe Zimmerman with little evidence backing up his claims, but they also chose to make sure that the witness statements "matched" the killer's story--even as these witnesses have come forward to dispute the statements as represented by police.

I am disappointed in the fact that people like George Zimmerman are cruising neighborhoods looking for kids who are "up to no good." Looking for kids while carrying a gun. Using that gun to murder a child who (by all available evidence) had done nothing more than walk to the 7-11 to buy Skittles and an iced tea.

I am disappointed in the reporters who when talking to the mother of a murdered black child asked if "he liked chicken." Really? That's anywhere in the neighborhood of an appropriate question?

I am disappointed that so many white people are upset about "pulling the race card." The fact that the victim was black, and that the man who killed him a white man who had a history of focusing on black males as being troublemakers. The last according to the very neighbors he claims to have been helping protect. These facts lead to (at a very minimum) consider that race was a component of this tragedy.

I am disappointed that white people seem to think that every time race is mentioned it is "pulling the race card." Much as I wish it were not so, the race card is always in the deck for people of color. Thankfully, we are past the days of hoods, burning crosses and "colored" restrooms. That does not mean that the race card has been tossed out of the deck. It just means that those who consider people of color "less than" or "up to no good" or whatever else those people thing must be more subtle, more insidious. Every single time a person of color experiences something negative--that person must wonder (to some degree) if the color of his or her skin played any part in that.

I am disappointed in reading reactions from people that say Zimmerman had a right to be "on the lookout" due to a number of break-ins in the neighborhood...and thought he was preventing a crime.

Let me be very clear about this: I do NOT want anyone patrolling MY neighborhood (and we do have neighborhood watch and some recent break-ins) to think they are doing me a service if they behave as Zimmerman did. I do not have a single THING in my home that is worth the life of a child. Call the police, but keep your personal bias and you 9mm INSIDE your car.

Trayvon Martin was a child. A child with a family who loved him. A child with a future. A child who chose to go buy candy at a moment in time that resulted in him crossing paths with George Zimmerman. Unfortunately, that innocent choice left him crying for help...and then shot to death. Let us not let his death go unnoticed and unpunished.

Alphabet soup

I know memes are considered lazy to some, but I actually LIKE to read them. Only tagging my co-blogger, but please tell me in the comments if you decide to do it…or just pick one or two you want to answer…pr make fun of my answers…it’s all good.

A – An advantage you have – Being white, born in USA to parents who valued education (being a sassy redhead doesn’t hurt, either)

B – Bed size-King, though my current sleep mate is a cat and I only take up a small portion of the bed. However, when (IF) I have another bed companion the King becomes imperative as I like snuggling but CANNOT stand to sleep tangled up.

C – Chore you hate – Cleaning out the litter box. I particularly hate it when that bitchy, superior feline comes to watch me do it as if to underline the fact that I am cleaning up her shit.

D – Dad’s name – Poppa/Herbie/Do you want me to call the home?

E – Essential start of your day – Wash my face and have a coca-cola.

F – Favorite color – Purple. Yes, it is the favorite of tween girls, but I still claim it…and I don’t much like tween girls.

G– Gold or Silver--I’ve turned to a Silver person the past couple of years, but was gold for most of my life

H – Habit you have – Calling my Cistern a “Bitch” whenever possible to fit it into the conversation

I – Issue you consider important—This month it would have to be my outrage over conservatives marginalizing women and wanting “smaller government” but at the same time wanting far too much say about my vagina and wanting to tell me what SHOULD and SHOULD not happen there. I use birth control, have for 20+ years. I’m a slut, fine, whatever.

J – Job title –Bitch Goddess (pay is shitty, but it’s quite entertaining)

K – Kids—none that I birthed. Nieces 11 ½ and 3, Nephews 8 and 3. The oldest belong to the cistern, the twins belong to my brother.

L – Living arrangements – Renting a house that I hope to buy. It has a red door, a million windows, is a ½ mile from Cistern’s house, and I love, love love it!

M – Mustard or ketchup—both, but if I could only have one it would be mustard. I hate mayonnaise with few exceptions. It disgusts me that my sister puts it on hot dogs.

Nicknames – bitch, cistern, Maggie Moo

O – Overnight hospital stay – neck surgery (1 night), work-up for chest pain (2 nights) Family history of people dropping dead from cardiac issues got me more attention than I wanted, but I appreciate the concern.

P – Pet Peeve –people who use the last of something without replacing it or telling anyone, people who don’t follow the damned rules at a 4-way Stop—you are NOT doing me a favor if you don’t go when it is your fucking turn, typos in profiles on dating sites. Shut up! I’m single, I don’t do church or bars. Gimme a break.

Q – Quote that you like most – Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.
--Emerson

R – Right or left handed – Right

S – Siblings – one sister, one brother. I’m the oldest, and managed not to kill either of them growing up. Miracle, but a good one. I love them both to pieces—but not in a leperous kind of way.

T – Time you wake up –the very last possible minute that allows me to get where I need to be. I like sleep. I lay out my clothes the night before in the precise order I will be putting them on my body. Fuck mornings.

U – Underwear—usually wear it, most of mine is cotton

V – Vegetable you dislike—I like most of them…oh yeah! Greens—mustard, collard, turnip—there have been a very few exceptions that I have found palatable.

W – What makes you run late – my love for sleep, being disorganized, getting ready too early and then checking “just one thing” online. Yeah, right.

X – X-rays you’ve had – ankle, chest, neck MRI-neck, neck, neck, CT-head (shut up again)

Y – Yummy food you make – I am an above average cook when I do it, but my best ever would likely be chocolate cake with butter cream icing. (No, I do not use a box. I’m amazed at how many people look confused when I say that.)

Z – Zoo animal—I have come to dislike seeing animals in zoos. I have a huge love for elephants and have collected them since I was a kid. Got a purple one tattooed on my ankle about a year ago. I did LOVE seeing the otters swimming, smiling, and doing laps at the aquarium in Monterey.

Backing up just a little

My sister gave a bit of backstory with her last post, and perhaps it is time for me to do the same. I am the older, wiser sister. I am a redhead--yes, a REAL one--and I have the attitude that comes with the hair. I have been back in Atlanta since August 2010. I was in Houston for 4 1/2 years during which time I was married with 2 stepdaughters. My ex-husband and I had about as amicable a divorce as is possible, and we are still friends.

I am passionate, flexible, independent, opinionated, cynical and romantic. Yes, sometimes it gets confusing in here. I am a recovering slob, hopeless mark for animals that need homes. I'm a nurse currently unemployed. (woo-hoo) Um, this is starting to sound like a profile for a dating site, and while I AM single, it isn't my goal to have you guys tell me that I have great boobs and will I put them in your face. (Yes, that really happened. That and the fact that they matched me with my sister's ex-husband make me leery of that avenue as a means to success.)

Okay, now where were we. I moved back to Atlanta and intentionally moved into a house less than a mile from Bryan. I am renting but hope to purchase this house. I love, love, love it!

My sister calls me the Folk Music Evangelist. I don't know if she capitalizes it in her head, but it seems like she does. I'm sure she will correct me if I am wrong. ...not the Kum-by-yah kind (since I don't even know how to spell it), but singer/songwriter stuff that is hard to define. For me it means that the song tells a story of some sort, and that I can understand the lyrics enough to get the story. It can lean towards pop or country, but if I like the way it sounds and the stories it tells, I'm hooked. I go to the Woody Guthrie Folk Festival every July in Okemah, Oklahoma. I was led into this world of troubadours by Ellis Paul, hooked forever by Don Conoscenti, and my most recently acquired favorite is Rebecca Loebe. If any of you go to one of their shows and don't like it, I'll give you back the money you spent on your ticket.

I also have an artsy-fartsy side that I am trying to cultivate. I am using this out of work time to do some projects that have been on hold for a while. I'll let you know how things turn out.

Anyway, that is a rambling peek at how my crazy brain works. If it scares you a little, it probably should.

So, tell me something about you that I might not already know. pretty please?

I love pretty things!

It's kinda pitiful that I forgot the original reference that led to Bryan and me calling each other "Cistern." I'm sure if I remembered that, I might forget something important like my own address. Just for the record..it is my baby Cistern's birthday today, so wish her a happy! I had a nearly finished post in the drafts, but then Molly tweeted this link to some brilliant artwork. My favorite of those is Red Riding Hood, but I love Alice in Wonderland and Rapunzel as well.

The artist for the above is Christian Jackson . That beautiful artwork led me to this site Which is a very, very dangerous website for me. They have a varied inventory of many artists with prints at reasonable prices. These are the other two that caught my eye...

Scarlet by Jill Denton

World Map by Michael Tompsett So, go look around and tell me...What catches your eye about a painting? Who do you love that isn't famous? Realism or Impressionism or something in between?

Competitive much?

Well, I'm glad that the cistern (singular) decided to chip in. Really. However, I didn't really know we were going to make this a She Said/She Said kinda deal. She DID give me permission to post first, and then she bitched about it. And, I called it that she was gonna complain about the "housekeeping." I would have given her "all access" if I had been given that option. Hell, I'l give her permission to edit my posts with her English Major red pen if she wishes. As soon as I figure out how to do it. I thought we were tight. I thought she could have come to me first. Oh well, I suppose airing laundry publicly is gonna be part of this whole endeavor--and now that I know, I will be ready. REAL POST It's interesting that the cistern said what she did. We come by our competitive natures honestly. Poppa instilled that in us early and often. We played board games as children. Parcheesi, checkers, backgammon, and we splurged on an Atari game system when we were able. Poppa denies it to this very day, but he bought new games, practiced them until he was proficient, and ONLY THEN did he allow the kids the opportunity to play against him. He acts as if this is blasphemy when we bring it up now, but none of us EVER saw a game wrapped in cellophane. Enough said. There was one particular evening when I was on a roll. Poppa and I were playing a game called Chase on Atari, and I was on a winning streak. It was a school night, and I was exhausted. I was BEGGING to go to bed. He was determined to keep playing until won. It didn't happen, and my step-mother finally told him to let me go to bed or she was calling Child Services (well, not that last part). I was in bed in that barely cognizant few moments just before slumber. He came into my room and kissed me on the cheek. The he whispered, "I let you win." I was jolted upright out of my near sleep, and yelled, "You did not!" He never LET us win anything in our lives, and I knew he had not started that night. One of his favorite games was "Harder or Faster." He would pin us on the ground and start softly patting our cheeks is a slow rhythm. That part was not so bad...then came the choice...we had to tell him to do it harder or speed up the pace. If we failed to choose, the result was HARDER & FASTER. This sounds far more abusive than it was, we actually asked to play on occasion...or maybe I just asked him to play the game with my little brother. PS-I realized as I typed that the graphics in video games today are better quality than what we could see on television when I was a kid. Now I am old. So, did you guys play board games as kids? Are you laid back when it comes to winning or losing, or are you out for blood?