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Showing posts from May, 2008

Bye, bye baby

Today the St. Vincent de Paul society became the recipient of numerous baby paraphernalia. We said good bye to the swing, stroller, infant and toddler car seats, bouncer, high chair, crib music thing, and numerous other items that Brian put into boxes and bags. The fact that I have been referring to Jordan as an only child over the last couple of months prompted this, but had we not put our house back up for sale (after being off the market for about six months), I probably would have held on to these things for at least another year. The reality is even though money and that I am just not into babies (that is, I don't really want to have a baby) are big factors in our decision to have just one kid, as significant is that I am selfish. If you have been my friend for years, you know how self-centered and absorbed I can be, how I think my problems and what goes on in my life are so significant. And with one child, you can still be a little selfish. Don't get me wrong, Jordan is f

super genius is off the air

Well, it appears that Mark Madden, ratings bonanza that he is on ESPN radio, was finally removed from the air. Apparently permanently, according to the P-G. I have listened to Madden for years, mostly during the Steeler season but most recently during the Pens playoff run. At times, I have found myself mildly offended at the way he insults people. Yet I still listened. Why? Because I wanted to hear the latest Steeler or Penguin story; Mark is a huge Pens fan, so you could count on him for the latest scoop and just good info in general. And Mark did not pander to the Steelers (except for Big Ben) the way most of Pittsburgh does, which I found somewhat refreshing, although some of his comments were pretty much attacks, and that I am no fan of. In fairness to Madden, some of his callers said some rather dumb things. Once you listen to the show, you should know what you are getting yourself into. In fact, the station would play some sort of warning about how Mark insults callers. And there

It's only one game

Or at least that is what I keep telling myself. But I believe it. Sure, the Pens played rather badly last night (well, they started off looking pretty good/evenly matched against the Red Wings), but it was just one game, and an away game at that. I think they will bounce back in game 2. When Fleury tripped his way onto the ice, that was probably not a good sign. And Lord knows I am into signs. But when the Red Wings' first goal was overturned, I thought that was big, since the Pens have won almost every game they scored first in these playoffs. Now that they lost their first, first game, I am choosing to ignore that the Pens won their first three games in each of the first three series. This is the fourth series and the first time they are not beginning the series at home, so it makes sense, I am rationalizing, that this series starts off differently. I know that most athletes are overpaid, and some sports fans place a little too much importance on games (guilty, sometimes!), but I

I am superstitious

Hockey players have to be some of the most superstitious athletes out there. I was surprised to read/hear that the Penguins players refused to touch the Prince of Wales trophy. They deserved to bask in the accolades; it was a great accomplishment, something we have not seen in over 15 years. But some players said the Eastern Conference means nothing, that the Cup is the ultimate goal, and I guess they don't want to do anything to jinx that. I bought a new Penguins shirt a week and a half ago (see pic above), and the Pens won each time I wore it. But I am pretty sure that the win had nothing to do with me. However, if I don't wear that shirt and the Pens lose, you can believe I will blame myself on some level. I considered not shaving my legs the entire playoffs, in deference to the players not shaving their facial hair, but I am pretty sure Brian would not appreciate that. It is kind of fun(ny), and egotistical really, to think any one person not directly involved in the game c

Signs, signs, everywhere

I went to Ikea yesterday, for the first time in probably five or six years. I was never a fan of the store, just never got the allure, but I did see some cool glasses in a catalog in the last year or two so I stopped on my way home from the airport. It turned out better than I remembered it; in fact, had I not just stimulated my mechanic's bank account, I am quite certain I could have dropped some Benjamins in this place. But, alas, I ended up with a half dozen juice glasses (not the ones I wanted, unfortunately), and off Jordan and I went. (Note: Ikea is a cool place for kids; apparently there is normally some play area, but even without this, Jordan loved going into the "rooms" pretending they were hers. Also note: Don't take a preschooler to this place when you are in hurry.) And then I remembered the other reason I do not like to go to Ikea: I can never find my way back to the Parkway towards Pittsburgh. I always find the Pittsburgh sign soon after I exit the lot,

Ugh! (but at least we have the Pens)

I like to think I have gotten over most of my sports superstitions, but unfortunately, I still tend to think that if something good happens, then something bad must follow (or vice-versa). First we had childcare issues. Then there were a couple of big expenses. Next came an in-law situation (there are some things that will never make this blog). Now, just when I thought we found someone to watch Jordan, I get a note from our new person that her son is in the hospital and she does not know when he will be out, and Jordan was supposed to start there in two days. From the beginning, I had some reservations about this person. She cancelled the first time we were supposed to meet because she had to take her mother-in-law to the doctor, and it ended up taking hours. I thought at least she was devoted to her family. Then she cancelled our next meeting because her son was sick, but that seemed acceptable because of the germ factor. Next, right before we are to meet, she said her husband has co

They come in threes

A few months ago, I was debating whether or not we should use our economic stimulus payment for a nice-sized, flat-screen TV. Last month, that decision was made for us after we had over $700 in truck repairs. Looking on the bright side, I decided after we put our ESP towards the truck, we would have almost $800 to spend or save, so it seemed like a better deal than blowing the entire ESP on the TV; it was like found/extra money. Then a few weeks later, our drier needed a $200 repair. Again, I told myself we would still have about $600 left, so things were still looking good. Then this past week, we find out the car needs a new clutch, to the tune of just over $700. Again. Ugh! I guess I should be glad our mechanic "works for Jesus and for you"; otherwise, who knows what this could have cost us! I thought this ESP was a bad idea, just another example of the government wasting (our) money and putting the country more in the hole, but I was looking forward to it. Considering tha

Keeping the peace

A week and a half ago, I showed up an hour early to pick up Jordan from her caregiver, E, and there she was on the front porch coloring. Alone. Over 10 minutes went by from the time I arrived until E came out; who knows how long Jordan was by herself before I arrived. Just in the time I was there, Jordan started shrieking when a bee flew near her, and the UPS guy came up to the porch to deliver a package while the dogs were barking. Yet this woman never came out to check on Jordan. Either E could not hear her or she was just ignoring her. I am pretty confident my kid would not leave the yard; I was more concerned about her getting hurt, or, God forbid, someone grabbing her. I was angry and upset, yet I said nothing. Some of you are probably surprised that I, someone who rarely fails to express my opinion or rant, would keep my mouth shut about this. But I have several reasons why I said nothing, justified and logical or not. Part of me was afraid if I asked E how long Jordan had been

I need Martha or HGTV

I am thinking at 36, I am never going to get organized or be domestic. I am sitting at my desk in the office/Sadie's room (how many dogs have their own room?), and there have to be at least 25 pieces of loose paper, including bills, Jordan's school stuff, my day planner, a wedding invitation, a Huggies pull-ups coupon pack (for the 21-month old child I apparently have, according to them) and a handful of credit card receipts. There are two filing cabinets next to my computer desk, but filing happens about every three or four months in this house. Fortunately, this is the worst room, but it is not as if the rest of the house is clutter-free. And unfortunately, if we expect to put our house back on the market in a couple of weeks, I need to spring into action. Help! I have said to numerous people that I would rather go through labor again without drugs than move. I mean it, even though natural child birth is pretty awful, let me tell you. But I just hate packing and unpacking tha