A Linus moment

Every Christmas, I need a Linus moment. You know, the penultimate moment of the Charlie Brown Christmas special when Linus says "That's what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown".  It doesn't have to be religious, I just need someone or something to awaken my Christmas spirit.  I was at work and there was a gentleman that was leaving one of our Prime Time units.  Prime Time is a place where the elderly come to stay for the day while their children/loved one goes to work. Sort of like adult daycare, though I hate calling it that.  Anyway, I was walking past this gentleman who was leaving, when he stuck out his hand to shake mine and said "You are a good, strong, woman. Merry Christmas." His daughter was clearly embarrassed and tried to hurry him along. I shook his hand and told him "You made my day. Merry Christmas." He responded by saying, "Christmas is a time when everyone should know their worth.". I was moved. Completely moved. It was my Linus moment. I felt the Christmas spirit in me. And now I decorate. I bake. And I am going to make sure that the people around me know their worth.  Merry Christmas indeed. 

Eight Things

Okay, over at Laura without Labels (one of the blogs that I regularly delight in) she posted a list of eight things about herself.  Basically eight things that don't need to be known. Not because they are extremely personal--but things that are not necessarily advertised about yourself.  As I have stated in previous blogging, I love lists. Ergo, my Eight Things. 

1. I used to smoke a pack a day.

2. I own the Growing Pains soundtrack on CD

3. I have eaten a delight known as duck's blood soup

4. I helped to build houses in St. Croix after a hurricane

5. I met Ted Nugent and Coolio (but not on the same night)

6. I adore musical theatre

7. I am 50% Polish and 50% English

8. My first car was a yellow Mercury Grand Marquis

No tagging anyone, just love list-making.  If you want to write your own, send me a post. We can compare absurdities. 

Feeling bloggy

Blogging, and consistent blogging at that, continues to elude me. I am not a proactive blogger. I plod along in the world of the written word.  There are enough interesting things going on in the world that technically I should have blog fodder for months. But I really don't. Politically, I stand pretty firmly entrenched on the liberal left.  This doesn't mean that I hate John McCain. He's a smart guy. He works hard.  I just don't want him to be president.  See how long that was? Like a half a paragraph if that.  There are certain discussions that I like to have in person.  People tend to express irony, sarcasm, and ideological vitriol better in person. Conversations that require eye contact. Like sex. Talking about sex and all of its intricacies need eye contact (and generally lots of laughter).  I also tend to blog about things that amuse me. And only me. And as much as I enjoy talking about political policies, I love talking about whether or not Chris Martin had his teeth bleached or if Kenley should have been voted off of Project Runway (yes to both by the way).  I have discovered by blogging that I am a talker. This doesn't mean I won't blog. Oh, I will. I am sure some insanity will enrage (or amuse) me enough to take to the page.  By doing this I was trying to focus more on my writing. Now I want to focus on communicating.  With the written word AND eye contact. I just need to find a personal balance between the two. Let's see where this shall lead.  

PS: If you love reading blogs--The Daily Beast is the place to be. I LOVE these blogs. I mean that. And in another twist, I have chosen my new literary husband to be Christopher Buckley. Not kidding. Read his blog (and his books for God sakes) and you will know why. 

All thanks to The Wailing List for a funny representation of blogging. For anyone looking for some funny shit (yep just laying it on the line there) check out despair.com  enjoy!

Time not on my side

The new television season is upon us.  And I probably will not be blogging about them. Not because I wouldn't want to --but there are so many others who do things like that better than I do. Especially Television without pity. They rock the box. The new season makes me think of all the time I have wasted on bad TV, movies, etc.  There are two categories of this. Category 1 is "It seemed like a good idea at the time". These are things that I watched and now realize how horrifying they actually are. The other category is "It sucked and I knew it going in".  I read the reviews and ignored them, I watched the first episode and ignored the oncoming train.  These lists will not match your own. You may look at them and say, "Hey! I like that! I own it on DVD!". The truth of the matter is something you despise may be my favorite time waster. So, let's have a discussion. I list mine--you list yours.  Or seethe quietly. Here we go!

Category 1 (good idea at the time)

St. Elmo's Fire --- oh boy Demi Moore rocking in a room,  Rob Lowe with a badass earring and sax and Emilio Estevez in a bow tie. It all looked good. And then it wasn't. And viewing it from a decade or two later--not good at all. 

Battle for Endor -- yep, I have this one on VHS. My only excuse (and it is weak) is that I was young.  But I watched it no less than 20 soul sucking times.  And, sadly, I wanted to be Cindel (I do remember her name. See, soul- sucking)

Murder in Small Town X -- anyone remember this one? A reality show where once a week each contestant gets "killed" as they hunt for clues as to whom the real murderer is. The winner was a man named Angel. Sadly enough, he was killed on 9/11. He was a firefighter and was in the towers.  All of this is in my head where math should be. 

Category 2 (train's coming round the bend)

Must love Dogs-- the ads were sappy. The premise, ridiculous.  And I watched it. Paid for it.  And then, the icing on the cake, someone gave it to me as a gift.  Karma kicks me right in the ass. 

Growing up Gotti ---watched it. For a looooong time. I mean a really long time. Much longer than I should have.  Are you looking at me with shame in your eyes, yet? 

The English Patient -- now this may be a surprise. It won like 50 Oscars. People went to this movie and wept buckets. BUCKETS!  My not liking it had nothing to do with the movie itself.  I knew going in this was not my cup of tea.  Movies like that generally make my teeth itch. I went anyway, I paid the money.  I invested the time.  And now it is trapped in my memory, and it won't leave. 

So, that's it. Not really. There are about a thousand more things I feel this way about. And we haven't gotten to music. Hoo- Boy, let the good times roll. 

Colonoscopies and Hines Ward

I had originally planned to blog about Doug and Mary's wedding this weekend. And that will most likely be the case on the next one. However, I feel the need to share this particular morning. Since my brother is in town for said wedding, I took Monday off of work and we decided to get up a little early and have breakfast at Pamela's. I love that place for breakfast. Fate did not smile on us. There was a power outage in parts of the South Hills and Pamela's was closed. Bummer. But where to go? We finally ended up at Freddie's on Route 88. Small and comfortable with a filling breakfast. The restaurant was full of people share tales of their lives. Something I always enjoy. There was a table behind us being especially loud and their conversation followed this path: Hines Ward-Willie Parker-Aircraft Carriers-Colonoscopies-the difference between ventilators and respirators-colonoscopies-Marines-being burned over 70% of his body-Prostate exams-Hines Ward. It took all of my strength not to turn around and just look at this person who could make a smooth transition from all of these topics. Someone who can find a transition point between Prostate Exams and the Steeler game. Yet another reason I love Pittsburgh. Because you can have an amazing breakfast, hear how Hines Ward should have caught those two passes, and learn about the state of some one's colon all before you get your coffee refilled.

Lists

I normally love lists. I mean I LOVE lists. One of my favorite things to play are list games. Things like "Top Ten of Celebrities I would like to sleep with" or "Top 5 Books I would take on a month long vacation". I feel like you learn so much about people with just the simple questions. On TV tonight is the Stand Up to Cancer telethon. Tonight. September 5th. Last year on this day Dad died of a brain tumor. So, because I've been mulling it over, I made a list:

People I know and Love who lost their battle with Cancer:

1. Dad
2. Jim McGregor
3. Ryan Eichstadt
4. Jim Gourley
5. Sandy Gourley
6. Barbara Abbot
7. Betty Weirer

I haven't even scraped the surface, by the way. However, in the effort to not be a Debbie Downer, here's my other list:

People I know and Love who beat it:

1. Cecilla Piontek
2. Elva G. Andersen
3. Dave Piontek
4. John Eichstadt
5. Nicholas Schirra
6. Maureen Piontek
7. Kathy Bates

And the best thing? I haven't even scraped the surface. Here's to a cure. Soon.

Why I love Jon Stewart more than life itself....

Jackassery

Well, I feel like a fool. I had a bit of a slip and fall at work.  And because I am now blog-friendly, who would I be if I didn't write about it. It involves water on the bathroom floor, me spinning like a whirly-gig and actually falling on the toilet. However, as I gracefully spun in the bathroom, I slammed my elbow on the doorframe. At first I thought I had done serious damage.  But not so much. Just wounded pride and a blunt force trauma style bruise. Yowza. And what kind of blogger would I be without taking a grainy, poorly angled photograph of my arm.  The best part? Because it happened at work, everyone knows. There can't be any shame in my game, no place to hide. I just have to smile and say, "yes I feel fine".  Little do they know, I can now do a graceful pirouette on a wet floor in Croc flip-flops and not knock my teeth out. All of those ballet lessons when I was 5 have finally paid off in spades. 

Queiry

Note: this post is, again, political in nature. 

Just out of curiosity, when did it become a bad thing for politicians to be well educated? We, as the American voting public, are such a grouping of contradictions it drives me insane. We would like our politicians to be educated, but not TOO educated. Popular, but not TOO popular. If I hear one more commentator mention that Obama needs to "learn to speak to the common man" I am going to scream. For the record, the common man is smart enough to understand the big, important words like economy, education, and war. 

Network TV News Sucks

That's it. The title says it all. I am so annoyed at their coverage of the convention. I understand the idea that the Networks don't want to do a democratic infomercial.  But, SERIOUSLY! Could you quit speaking over everyone that is at the podium? Could let us listen so that perhaps, just perhaps we are able to make our own decisions? No, Diana Sawyer and Charlie Gibson want to make sure we hear their opinion. I am giving up and watching PBS. God Bless the silence of Jim Lehrer.  And as a postscript, as a member of a family that has suffered the effects of a brain tumor, how great did Ted Kennedy look? They may have propped him up with drugs, but who cares?  I am so very pleased that he was present. I may not be a huge Ted fan, but I was happy he was there and he spoke. 

A Skeptical Weekend

I had a great weekend, spent mostly with people that I feel I don't get to spend nearly enough time with--Laura and Chris. With, of course, the addition of friend via facebook, Jason.  On Friday night I attended Drinking Skeptically at The Library. First of all, it should be noted that I despise the South Side on a weekend. Parking is a general disaster in the first place, let alone adding the massive influx of people whom trek there on a Friday night.  So, after parking about three blocks back, I finally arrived.  It was a fun night of chat. I was exhausted from work, so my contribution was mostly to sit and listen. But, what things to listen to? I was surrounded by such interesting and amusing conversation, I just absorbed.  I did participate in a work related discussion about parental apathy. And by 10:45 I was ready to crawl under the table and sleep. Thankfully, Jason "dumped" a glass of water into my lap and woke me up enough to drive home. Saturday was spent at Bangkok Balcony in Squirrel Hill. I had never eaten Thai food, and it was lovely.  Some chicken pad Thai and fresh rolls(yummy, yummy). Chris was very helpful as far as choices and his suggestions (and sarcastic comments) were much appreciated.  After, I went to Laura's apartment and yapped until midnight with Laura (and Jason who was visiting with his computer). It amazes me that she and I are about 9 years apart in age, and yet many of our experiences were the same.  It was a wonderful time.  Onward to the work week! 

Things I Love

This post will have nothing to do with the people I love. The people I love know that I love them, so to blog about it would be redundant (this won't stop me around the holidays). So let's cover the things I love. The things that bring me joy in ways that generally aren't possible for inanimate objects. Let us begin:

1.  Project Runway--I love this show. It has taught me terms like ruching, plait, and gusset. It also makes me feel like I am in the know when I agree with Michael Kors that a design looks "slutty, slutty, slutty". Happiness.

2.  Music from TV Commercials--I am one of the first of my friends to hunt up any blurb of music I hear while someone tries to shill toilet paper. To wit:   I  bought the song The Story by Brandi Carlile. Why? It's in a GMC commercial airing during the Olympics. 

3.  Apple computers--yep, I'm that girl. I love a good Apple. I used to have a delightful little IBM laptop. Nice, but I could take it or leave it. And then I met Apple. And now I'm committed. 

4.  YouTube--I have watched a ridiculous number of videos on YouTube.  It was a minor obsession that has now turned into a daily check of anything "new on the tube".  I've watched 1,123 videos. Time I'll never get back. That's okay. 

5.  Books--broad but true. If I find a book I love I will read it over and over again. It truly makes me happy to revisit old favorites and remember why I love them. Books like Anne of Green Gables, Rebecca, Jane Eyre, and The Secret Garden never leave my shelves. And opening them is like taking a call from an old friend. Yes, I know how it will end. But it doesn't make the ride any less interesting. 

So, five things that I love. And now I leave it to anyone who might be reading this:  tell me what you love. Whatever brings you joy and happiness. Share. 

                                              

Hey Ya! Charlie Brown Style

Since my last blog was a bit of a downer, I am now posting my all time favorite make-me-smile video from youtube. Enjoy.

Hiding

I spent a week (weekend included) hiding. Not in a literal sense. I went to work. I went out. But this whole week I felt like I was emotionally hiding. And to be frank, I still feel like it. I'm not sure why. I can't even seem to put my finger on it. Perhaps it has something to do with cleaning out my father's office. It's not an office in a traditional, leave-it-to-beaver sense. It used to be the guest room until we turned it into an office when Dad started to work at home. I took on this project on my own. My mother is not completely ready to help with this yet. So I sat there in his chair and looked at what seems like a monumental task before me.  And trust me, it is monumental. I come by my habit for collecting crap honestly.  His was just different. He saved every manual from every piece of equipment that has passed thru this house.  He (apparently) has saved and boxed EVERY CHECK HE HAS EVER WRITTEN. There was a time in Bethel Park when cable cost 6 dollars a month. Granted, it was five channels--but imagine. And we have the check to prove it. Lots of them, in fact. I miss him. But in ways that were unfathomable to me when he first died. I spoke to someone who also lost their dad and she said "I used to think it was trite when some one said I think of him/her every day. Now I know better".  And now I know better, too. And I wish I didn't.  Guess I put my finger on why I was hiding.  Now it's time to decide to take my head out of the sand. And start shredding checks from 1976. 

Zapped!

I am now discovering that blogging is addictive. Almost frighteningly so.  One can talk about anything on their mind. I think I am going to have to learn to modulate myself.  Venting my spleen one day might feel good, but upon a re-read I may appalled at what I have placed on the web.  Anyway, as my grandma used to say, let's throw one to see if it sticks. This post is going to be a little more politically tinged than I plan on writing. I keep hearing on the news about a local school district that is in talks to give the school guards tasers to help with "major discipline issues". My gut reaction? NO! NONONONONONO! Here's why. I am not in favor of school guards carrying guns. And I feel like something should help people out who work in schools.  I'm not stupid. I know how much school has changed since I was there.  Our biggest problems were a few fights a week and a group of people smoking pot between building 2 and 3. The guards, Mike and Sue, were people to bum smokes off of & would check your hall pass.  In my head, I am trying to imagine them armed. Nope, can't get there. And school now is scary as hell. Guns, fights, heroin, and that's not even the tip of that fabled iceberg. Now, having made a sound argument for them TO have tasers, let me try to explain my wholly irrational fears.  I have anther image in my head. An image of a security guard who gets a little nervous when the slouchy, emo kid coming down the hall is wearing a trench coat.  He starts to sweat and the kid, who is now being stared at, starts to sweat too. The guard decides, better safe than sorry. And zaps him.  And that is now the calling cry of every guard who chooses to tase first. Better safe than sorry. Other visions include a guard with a god complex. Or a fight breaks out and someone grabs the taser from the guard and now we've got a good time on our hands.  Let the lawsuits fall where they may.  Look,  I understand that there must be an answer somewhere. I am just completely unconvinced that tasers are it.  So, let's discuss. And next time we are totally back to fluff. To wit, I am intrigued by the Coldplay video for Viva la Vida. Did Chris Martin have his teeth done or is it Photoshop? Either way they look like Chiclets. See? Light. Fluffy. 

The Duckie-Dobbler Connundrum

Every girl who grew up in the 80's wants one thing out of a relationship. A "Duckie" or a "Lloyd Dobbler".  Someone who will burst into the room and lip-sync Otis Redding. Or stand in front of our homes with a boom box. It is only later in life that we realize that this person does not exist. There is no Duckie. And the guys I have met who say "oh that was me in high school"--well you aren't remembering things correctly either.  In the same way that I was never a strong enough person to stand out the way Molly Ringwald did,  you did not walk around the cafetorium in your hipster jive.  Duckie was a dream. And Molly even dumped him at the prom in her homemade dress for Blaine.  And don't forget Steff, an exceptionally hot James Spader in a white suit, who has bitter tirades that hide a yen for the un-traditional girl.  And these films are what an entire generation of girls hitched their star to, the oft hoped for "secret truth" of popular people.  So, now what? Many guys tell me to give up. "It's just the movies". Of course you can tell me to get my head out of films and back into reality.  However, how many guys can tell me that they haven't fantasized about Leia in a gold bikini or Sandy in black pleather pants? Thought so.  

My first...

This is my first true attempt at blogging. I've never understood the need to lay my life out there on the web.  An intro seems necessary.  I live in a suburb just outside of Pittsburgh. Hence the title of this blog. Life as a Yinzer. For those who may read this and not get the reference, I shall explain. A "yinzer" is one of many ways to describe a Pittsburgher. It's usually someone who has a heavy Pittsburgh accent. We tend to speak our own language. There was a time that I did all I could to seperate myself from Pittsburgh. Looking back on that, I'm not sure why. As an adult, I'm now rather proud to be from here. I'm not saying that we don't have our flaws. Oh we do. And I could list them. In another blog, I may. But, we have lots to be proud of. And I notice that we work almost daily to instill that pride in the kids at work. We cheer our sports teams. We talk about famous folks who claim Pittsburgh as home.  We explain the rich history of our area.   And strangely enough we teach them our little language choices.  Words that will get us stared at later in life. Words like "red-up", "pop", "gumband".  We will always want our ham chipped (not shaved). We will wonder why there are no french fries on our salad in New York.  We will be dismayed at the lack of Iron City on tap in Florida.  We are yinzers. We are Pittsburgh.