13 May 2018

Head Clearing

I've poured out my guts on this blog. But I'm also wanting a blog for books and such. I'm torn about what I'm posting to the public.

My blog, "B as in Bee" is now in swing. Feel free to comment over there if you are a reader and want something more substantial to read than my word vomit.

For those who have taken the journey since 2004....I've decided to stay here for my daily blurbs. They may not be worthy of a Pulitzer, but I need a space to clear some headspace.

Thank you for reading. The list is long and distinguished. You know who you are...

Bee is listening to Never Mess With Sunday by Yppah


10 May 2018

Conner Is In Jail Again

The lady next to us at the teriyaki place is not what I call a very private person. This phenomenon is what the US is known for: Loud Discussions About Your Business In Public Places.

Is this ego? Narcissism? Be jealous, ya'll? I have no filter? Whatever the reason, I have enough information here to be her bridesmaid. Maybe eavesdropping is rude, but there are voices and volumes very easy to ignore. Hers was not one of those.

She was happy to have lunch with Grandpa across the table. Things the entire restaurant now knows about her:
  • Her house just sold for 230k. They asked 220k. She cannot believe it. 
  • She will pay off all her loans with the new house. 
  • Thank God she dumped Jeff. 
  • It is going to be like, so hotter than hell this week and she has no AC. 
  • She needs to go swimming this week. 
  • The new house has an FDA loan. 
  • They are also pouring her concrete 
  • She ordered new countertops and has pictures here, here, and here. 
  •  She ran into Jeff, her ex, at the dealership. He was surprised she is pregnant with Greg's baby. 
  •  She is happy she is no longer with Jeff because she would still have so much debt. 
  • Grandpa went to the casino on Saturday. 
  • The white and black rice looks gross. 
  • She and Greg might get married in a barn at the farmer's market farm place or in Hawaii. 
  • Conner is probably in jail. No one has heard from him. But we know Conner. 
  • Grandpa's shoulder is bad and he needs to go to the ER. 
  • No really, he can barely move it. 
  • Doctors are idiots. 
  • She has high blood pressure but it's not bad for the baby, yet. 
  • She has a red truck to sell for $2400.00 - we all hope it sells.
  • Her company picnic was this weekend. 
  • Pam and Verna need to eat at this place near her house. 
  • They have clam strips and outside seating. 
  • She has a 6:30 shellac nail appointment today for two. ....that's about it. 

 Personally, I think Jeff dodged a bullet.

Bee is listening to Spectre by Tycho


10 December 2017

Tuba Toothpaste

This is the face of your average 17 year old Ralph Vaughan Williams fan.

In summer this year, Titus decided to add another instrument to his repertoire: tuba.

"How exciting," stated he.
"We have an apartment," bated me.
"Make it work?" question he.
"Do my best," intentioned me.

He appears to be making his way around the band instruments to find his favorite... or in the least, his favorite this week. He plays piano, flute, drums, accordion, piccolo, trombone, baritone horn, euphonium, and since it wasn't enough to play half the brass section, he now plays tuba.

Backing up momentarily, who just picks up an instrument and decides this is the one?

Musical talent runs in the family but I also I'm convinced, music I played when the kids were young also shaped brains, hearts, and planted seeds. Magic music seeds (this also sounds like an epic band name).

All classical, you think? There was plenty of that, and operas by Puccinni sung by the incomparable Pavarotti. We included silly songs from Space Ghost, Bear in the Big Blue House, and Spike Jones and the City Slickers. We listened to Brad Paisley and Def Leppard. Took five with Dave Brubeck and let off pressure with Queen and Bowie. Sinatra and Ella stayed classy. Oojami belly dancing breakbeats broke a sweat and Bob Dylan changed the times. Bob Marley redeemed the world while John Barry gave Dunbar a theme to dance with wolves. How could my kids not love music?

Fast forward a dozen years. Titus started tuba in June 2017 and auditioned for our county regional High School honor band. He was one of four accepted in a dozen or so tuba players auditioning.

Last night was their final concert after days of rehearsals across town. The concert was as fantastic as I expected. My son played tuba like a boss.

I'm really proud of Titus' disciplines and his fearless exploration of music. Not only in honor band, but in the young composers program, band leader in high school and passing all but one class due to creative time - management,

"Don't worry, Madre... teacher accepts late work and that's how I had time for A's in all my other classes."

I can't argue with that logic. I can argue with the emerging worst jokes known to man.

"Knock Knock"
"Who's there?"
"Tuba Who?"
"Tuba Toothpaste!"

There's no moral to the story here but a reminder: music is art. As my oldest daughter says, "When we art we also can brain better." Although, our jokes don't have that benefit.

~Bee is a bona fide audiophile.
Listening to everything

07 October 2016

Sweat the Appearance of Small Things

I tell everyone.

November means I've been blogging for twelve years.

I surely haven't been blogging that long because the number of posts suggest I most likely died in 2010 and my children have ghostwritten the last 5 or 6 posts.

I'm convinced I lost my blogging feeling when I went back to college. Then I got busy with reading books and writing about said books I'd read. It was lovely until it wasn't. And then I got a grown up job paying for the education I needed to get the job I wanted to pay the bills I have to pay.

If this is not the definition of insanity....

I could tell you what insanity is: my new work neighbors in the adjacent office space coming over to our office caterwauling about assigned parking. With the unrest in the world, an upcoming election, unemployment, refugees, fracking, frankenfood, Monsanto, hurricanes, etc.. and walking the length of three extra parking spaces is all that is wrong with the world? This is why the Kardashians are still on tv.

I understand the annoyance of having someone park in your spot. It annoys me when people park over the line like a beached whale. Door dings are another annoyance. The Justice side of my personality gets annoyed at these things. Why? I don't know.

I consider what it would be like to have a giant door ding or squeezing into the last space only because someone couldn't think outside their own bubble. It's  the selfishness of it all that irks me. Why are people unable to think beyond and consider their impact on the world around them? And really, is being considerate of others and respecting someone else's things a small thing or big thing? When the principal of the matter is huge and the action small, I notice because the root of the issue impacts a person's life and those around them. I couldn't care less about how someone else parks a car but laziness or selfishness that effects others I cannot endure.

I do sweat the appearance of petty, small things in an effort to fix big things. Sometimes, I end up avoiding big things because of fixing the small things.

Speaking of small things, my office recently moved to a new location for our growing medical practice. I had a conversation with Accountant Man and then his boss, Accountant Boss Lady: Protector of the Parking.

Now, let it be said, I know two accountants personally and they are not petty or sweaty. In fact, the are kind, warm, smart, and generous, and not the types to complain of parking or watch the Kardashians.

However, the mounting complaint over our errant parking was inevitable. These people are accountants but not just any accountants, special accountants in an organization for accountants across the United States. These are the Academy Awards of Accountants but in a club. The AAA's? If our office neighbors are any indication, this appears to be a boring club. Like Costco but with less bulk toilet paper and more Montblanc pens.

Regardless, these particular AAA's are are severely anal retentive and are usually paid to sweat the small stuff. I happen to speak Accountant and according to our office lease, the parking is ample and unassigned. We agreed to talk to the leasing agent so we wouldnt step on toes, or parking as it may be, and they could inquire on where to buy some big girl panties.

They did not like this news but I was as diplomatic as they are ridiculous. They chose to be accountants. I rest my case.

Bee isn't sweating the small things
Listening to Coldplay's Green Eyes

ps. I do not have ill-will toward accountants 
pps. no accountants were harmed in the making of this post.
ppps. if you are an accountant, don't sweat the petty stuff.