Saturday, July 05, 2008
Thursday, July 03, 2008
The Eyes Have It!
I do not believe that neither Susanne nor I is colorblind. That being said, just about everything that I think is grey she believes to be beige, (or is it the other way around?) and everything that I believe is dark blue she believes to be black.And we both register complete disbelief at the others' perception every single time.
On the bright side, perhaps she perceives my greying hair to be beige ;-) Can one have beige hair? -Monica
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
A tutorial on how to fold a fitted sheet...
I was delighted to see a comment on my last post from someone I know IRL (that’s “In Real Life” for all out there who can’t figure out all this IMing mumbo jumbo.) LOL. "Laughing Out Loud". There. I have officially used all the little IM slang I know.
Anyway…the comment was from my friend Beth who I met in 1983. She was a 14 year old high school freshman and I was her teacher (at the ripe old age of 21.) It was a wonderful school--an all girls Catholic School with about 50 kids in each class, and to this day, I still keep in touch with many of my students. It was a very special time in my life. I taught there for 4 years and then headed off to Peace Corps. That same year, that crop of freshmen graduated (including Beth) so in some ways I went through the same formation as they did in those four years. I know that seems odd, but it wasn’t. Oh, and they decided that I was peppy, so since 1983 I’ve been know as Pep. Seriously. The nuns even call me that still.
This was many years before I ever figured out I was gay—that took me until the late 90s to figure out. I also must say that growing up in a fairly conservative Catholic environment, my former students have been overwhelmingly accepting of my being gay and I am proud to continue to count Beth and Amy and Marg and Jess and Karin and Laurie and so many others as wonderful friends.
Anyway, fast forward something like 25 years here we are. Beth and her husband live in Australia (their blog is in our blogroll) and it’s very fun to have blogs to keep up with the funny and poignant things that go on in each others lives.
So…when I wrote about “pilling sweaters” yesterday, Beth wrote a funny comment and lamented that "if only someone would write about how to fold a fitted sheet". So here we go… (teaching, always teaching ;-)
Beth, just fold it in half and then gently roll it up. Shove it in a drawer and when you later put it in the bed it will look perfectly ironed anyway when you stretch it out.
What’s that? The sound of dozens of cyber gasps? (Including my own dear wife’s?)
Oh wait. You must fold it like a flag. Perfectly. Tightly. First the rounded edges must be attacked and mastere
d. Once all four are creased and laid flat you may proceed (preferably with a willing partner) to fold the sheet perfectly in half, and then half again. Then you insert one perfect folded corner into the other and smooth the whole sheet to perfection.
Then you shove it in a drawer and when you later put it in the bed it will look perfectly ironed anyway when you stretch it out.
Does this help Beth? ;-)
This was many years before I ever figured out I was gay—that took me until the late 90s to figure out. I also must say that growing up in a fairly conservative Catholic environment, my former students have been overwhelmingly accepting of my being gay and I am proud to continue to count Beth and Amy and Marg and Jess and Karin and Laurie and so many others as wonderful friends.
Anyway, fast forward something like 25 years here we are. Beth and her husband live in Australia (their blog is in our blogroll) and it’s very fun to have blogs to keep up with the funny and poignant things that go on in each others lives.
So…when I wrote about “pilling sweaters” yesterday, Beth wrote a funny comment and lamented that "if only someone would write about how to fold a fitted sheet". So here we go… (teaching, always teaching ;-)
Beth, just fold it in half and then gently roll it up. Shove it in a drawer and when you later put it in the bed it will look perfectly ironed anyway when you stretch it out.
What’s that? The sound of dozens of cyber gasps? (Including my own dear wife’s?)
Oh wait. You must fold it like a flag. Perfectly. Tightly. First the rounded edges must be attacked and mastere
d. Once all four are creased and laid flat you may proceed (preferably with a willing partner) to fold the sheet perfectly in half, and then half again. Then you insert one perfect folded corner into the other and smooth the whole sheet to perfection.Then you shove it in a drawer and when you later put it in the bed it will look perfectly ironed anyway when you stretch it out.
Does this help Beth? ;-)
Monday, June 30, 2008
At Least I Lean Left...
Does anyone else have this problem? Every single sweater (and most shirts) I have start wearing out and pilling in the exact same place. I’ve observed this phenomenon over time and without a doubt, the lower left back side of every sweater I own gets all “pilly” before too long.
I thought I’d check with my good friend Go*gle on this, and surprisingly there is little to be found on the internet. I did however find a study done in Europe that talked about “Abrasion resistance” in the context of how to properly help disabled and elderly people dress.
In part it said:
Abrasion resistance describes the ability of a material to withstand rubbing against another material, e.g. fabric, seams, skin, prosthesis, furniture, floor. As a result of abrasion the fabric surface changes visually and physically depending on the properties of the raw material: fibre ends raise from the surface of the fabric and cling to each other (pilling), fluff comes off, colours fade, the mechanical tenacity decreases and yarns snap causing holes to form in the fabric. Disabled and elderly people using a prosthesis or moving by crawling on all fours, or leaning their elbows on a table, face this abrasion problem when their clothing is exposed to strong rubbing especially in joints (knees, elbows)
Okay. I’m not disabled nor elderly (I don’t think) and yet even as I sit in my chair typing this I can feel a definite posture thing going on where I’m shifted left. I can feel my lower left back pressing against the chair. Of course at this very moment while I'm thinking about it, I’m sitting up with perfect posture, but, let’s be real here, in the normal course of my day I’m on my behind doing computer stuff. So. What have I learned?
One. I clearly buy very high quality clothes. (This is called "Facetiousness").
Two. I am going to become a hunch-back or hunch-hip if I don’t make some changes now.
Three. Maybe I should get me to a chiropractor?
So…am I the only one out there with this annoying problem? Oh…maybe next time I’ll post about the odd way I wear out shoes. Nah…I like my readers too much to put you through that! Have a great day! -Monica
I thought I’d check with my good friend Go*gle on this, and surprisingly there is little to be found on the internet. I did however find a study done in Europe that talked about “Abrasion resistance” in the context of how to properly help disabled and elderly people dress.
In part it said:
Abrasion resistance describes the ability of a material to withstand rubbing against another material, e.g. fabric, seams, skin, prosthesis, furniture, floor. As a result of abrasion the fabric surface changes visually and physically depending on the properties of the raw material: fibre ends raise from the surface of the fabric and cling to each other (pilling), fluff comes off, colours fade, the mechanical tenacity decreases and yarns snap causing holes to form in the fabric. Disabled and elderly people using a prosthesis or moving by crawling on all fours, or leaning their elbows on a table, face this abrasion problem when their clothing is exposed to strong rubbing especially in joints (knees, elbows)
Okay. I’m not disabled nor elderly (I don’t think) and yet even as I sit in my chair typing this I can feel a definite posture thing going on where I’m shifted left. I can feel my lower left back pressing against the chair. Of course at this very moment while I'm thinking about it, I’m sitting up with perfect posture, but, let’s be real here, in the normal course of my day I’m on my behind doing computer stuff. So. What have I learned?
One. I clearly buy very high quality clothes. (This is called "Facetiousness").
Two. I am going to become a hunch-back or hunch-hip if I don’t make some changes now.
Three. Maybe I should get me to a chiropractor?
So…am I the only one out there with this annoying problem? Oh…maybe next time I’ll post about the odd way I wear out shoes. Nah…I like my readers too much to put you through that! Have a great day! -Monica
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Nother note to self
So when I bend over to pick something up while rushing out the door at work to an important meeting and my button pops on my pants, I should really be a bit more strategic than I was on Thursday.
Yes, I felt a "pop", but really needed to get to where I was going so I made sure the zipper was up as high as possible and started off down the streets of Washington, DC. I found that I soon needed to put both hands in my pockets and sort of saunter along lest the zipper take another dive and leave me feeling a bit, eh, exposed. At Pennsylvania Avenue, I spied a CVS where they would surely have safety pins and they did!
Now clutching the ($3.80!) variety snack pack of pins I scurried along already late. I considered trying to stop on the street and try and pin them there but that seemed weird. I could have ducked into a building but then I'd probably be questioned by security guards and also not be allowed to use their bathrooms. And I was now getting seriously late.
So I did what seemed like a smart idea at the time. I tried to put the pin in while walking. I sort of forgot how thick the material is where the button hole is on pants, so I very quickly surmised this wasn't going to work. So I went back to plan A which was to again put both hands in my pockets to keep the darn things up. And then a light was changing. So I ran.
In my defe
nse, I was late, as I've mentioned more than one. But note to self. Running across that street was a VERY BAD IDEA. I lived to tell this tale as you can see so all's well that ends well.
But perhaps the worst part of the whole ordeal was later back home when Susanne spied a button I'd carefully placed on our dresser to sew back on she asked me if this were the one that had popped.
"Yup"
"Well, it didn't just pop off, the area around the little holes is broken."
Oooohhh... Weight Watchers here I come. Again.
-Monica
Yes, I felt a "pop", but really needed to get to where I was going so I made sure the zipper was up as high as possible and started off down the streets of Washington, DC. I found that I soon needed to put both hands in my pockets and sort of saunter along lest the zipper take another dive and leave me feeling a bit, eh, exposed. At Pennsylvania Avenue, I spied a CVS where they would surely have safety pins and they did!
Now clutching the ($3.80!) variety snack pack of pins I scurried along already late. I considered trying to stop on the street and try and pin them there but that seemed weird. I could have ducked into a building but then I'd probably be questioned by security guards and also not be allowed to use their bathrooms. And I was now getting seriously late.
So I did what seemed like a smart idea at the time. I tried to put the pin in while walking. I sort of forgot how thick the material is where the button hole is on pants, so I very quickly surmised this wasn't going to work. So I went back to plan A which was to again put both hands in my pockets to keep the darn things up. And then a light was changing. So I ran.
In my defe
nse, I was late, as I've mentioned more than one. But note to self. Running across that street was a VERY BAD IDEA. I lived to tell this tale as you can see so all's well that ends well.But perhaps the worst part of the whole ordeal was later back home when Susanne spied a button I'd carefully placed on our dresser to sew back on she asked me if this were the one that had popped.
"Yup"
"Well, it didn't just pop off, the area around the little holes is broken."
Oooohhh... Weight Watchers here I come. Again.
-Monica
Friday, June 27, 2008
Want to know what love is?
I was thinking this morning about the different blog posts that I’ve read over time that have really stuck with me, and I thought I’d share a beautiful tribute that was written by the author of Joe.My.God. Clearly he loved this man so much.
I love reading JMG every day because he is just so insightful and witty, and always seems to have his finger on the pulse of the gay community.
Joe wrote that “His was a life that burned brightly and I am illuminated still. Daniel Johnson, 1957-1997”.
I Will Hold You Ten Times
1. I will hold you, Daniel
2. The lesions don't bother me. I will hold you.
3. I will pretend nothing is wrong when you want me to pretend and when you want me to hold you, I will hold you.
4. I will make plans with you to go to your favorite places that we both know you can no longer go and I will sit with you and look at your pictures of these places and I will hold you.
5. I will ride with you on the train to your doctor's office and when you get sick in the station, I will hold you.
6. I will see the Post-It notes you put all over the house reminding yourself to do everyday things like "Turn off stove" and "Lock front door", and I'll pretend the disease isn't robbing your mind and when you tell me something for the third time in ten minutes, I won't let you know, I will hold you.
7. I will go to Safeway with you because you need to get out into the world, and when the diarrhea overwhelms you and you shit your pants in the middle of the store, I will call us a cab and in the cab, I will hold you.
8. I will make you mix-tapes of our favorite songs from last summer, just like you asked me to, and when the memories make you sad instead of happy and you throw the tapes in the trash, I won't get angry, I will hold you.
9. I will sit up all night with you because the fevers and night sweats won't let you sleep. In the morning, I'll change your drenched sheets and help your out of the shower and when you weep from the sight of your withered body in the mirror on the bathroom door, I will hold you.
10. I will hold you, Daniel.
I love reading JMG every day because he is just so insightful and witty, and always seems to have his finger on the pulse of the gay community.
Joe wrote that “His was a life that burned brightly and I am illuminated still. Daniel Johnson, 1957-1997”.
I Will Hold You Ten Times
1. I will hold you, Daniel
2. The lesions don't bother me. I will hold you.
3. I will pretend nothing is wrong when you want me to pretend and when you want me to hold you, I will hold you.
4. I will make plans with you to go to your favorite places that we both know you can no longer go and I will sit with you and look at your pictures of these places and I will hold you.
5. I will ride with you on the train to your doctor's office and when you get sick in the station, I will hold you.
6. I will see the Post-It notes you put all over the house reminding yourself to do everyday things like "Turn off stove" and "Lock front door", and I'll pretend the disease isn't robbing your mind and when you tell me something for the third time in ten minutes, I won't let you know, I will hold you.
7. I will go to Safeway with you because you need to get out into the world, and when the diarrhea overwhelms you and you shit your pants in the middle of the store, I will call us a cab and in the cab, I will hold you.
8. I will make you mix-tapes of our favorite songs from last summer, just like you asked me to, and when the memories make you sad instead of happy and you throw the tapes in the trash, I won't get angry, I will hold you.
9. I will sit up all night with you because the fevers and night sweats won't let you sleep. In the morning, I'll change your drenched sheets and help your out of the shower and when you weep from the sight of your withered body in the mirror on the bathroom door, I will hold you.
10. I will hold you, Daniel.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
