big foot

As a child, I remember my brother and I making fun of the shoes Dad wore.  I must clarify here.  Dad rarely ever had "normal" gym shoes (read: white or black colored).  No, they always seemed to be some hideous green (and I like green) or a blue/yellow combination, similar to that of the LA Rams NFL uniforms in the 1980s.  These were really the ugliest gym shoes I've seen in my life.

Now, Dad never claimed to be fashion forward - and indeed, he wasn't. He also found it entertaining to embarrass me and my brother, and almost anyone he could.  Thus, we just chalked it up to him being a fashion idiot and wanting to embarrass his children whilst wearing "clown shoes".

Perhaps I should also mention that Dad wears a size 14-15 shoe.  Of course, as a kid, you don't comprehend that it might be a pain to find a shoe in that size - you just think "I have to be seen with him wearing THOSE shoes".  Thankfully Mom wore a much more "normal" size 9 women's shoe - at least her shoes were acceptable.  This also meant I had a chance of not being a big foot.

In all honestly, I still did have a slight fear of wearing "clown shoes".  I wore a size 10 when I was nine years old, and I was maybe 4 ft 8.  Eventually, I grew a little over a foot in total and then a size 10 didn't look ridiculous on my frame.  Although finding that size can prove to be a pain, as I went to a DSW in Maryland and there were on four size 10s in the whole store.  I was also told by a vendor in Valencia, Spain I had big feet - never mind that I was at least a head taller than him.  WTF?  But I've resigned to life with a lesser shoe variety and some random "big foot" comment.  After two decades, you just deal.

Until Mom decides to tell me that your feet literally grow for the rest of your life.  Really? That can't be....or I was really, really hoping it couldn't be.  Then a couple weeks later, my right big toe begins hurting me when I wore my gym shoes.  I figured it was just an ingrown toenail and took care of it.  The annoyance continued.  I needed new gym shoes anyway, so I head to the store.  Try on the size 10.  Sure as shit, that's the issue.  My stupid feet have grown into a size 11.  With my big foot shoes in tow, I head to a (less painful) fitness camp.

First, I hate it when Mom is right - even if it's something as trivial as a shoe size.  Second, finding a 10 was hard enough.  An 11?  That's a bitch and a half.  You really have to take what you can get - and hopefully, they'll be somewhat fashionable, comfortable and not totally butt-ugly.   Third, I have some idea of what Dad went and still goes through shoe-wise.  LA Rams shoes were probably the only option he had back in the day.  

Thankfully, the internet has wonderful sites that carry size 11s.  I know, I have to start replacing my vast (ha ha ha) shoe collection.  However, my feet better not grow anymore.

Maybe that's why I'm not a fan of shoes. 

hi camp, i've missed you!

On Saturday, I returned to what we, in the Wisconsin-Upper Michigan Kiwanis family, refer to as "one of the happiest places on earth" - Camp Wawbeek in Wisconsin Dells. 

Camp Wawbeek is an Easter Seals camp designed for children and adults with physical, developmental and cognitive disabilities.  I first because acquainted with Camp (as it is affectionately called) as a college sophomore and a member of the Marquette CKI club.  CKI attends Camp every fall and spring to close the camp for winter and open it for summer, respectively, by performing various projects from cutting wood to cleaning out the pool to raking leaves to....well, you get the idea.  

I had pretty much made a yearly (if not more frequent) pilgrimage to Camp since then; that is until my "resignation" as CKI administrator.  After 2.5 years,  I decided to return to Camp, and subsequently, my K-Family involvement

I learned two thing upon my return to Camp:

• I don't miss being CKI administrator.  I believe it was something I already knew, but sometimes that reality needs to smack you in the face.  Yes, I enjoyed my time in that position, but it sure was nice to be able to go and bask in the specialness that is Camp without the responsibilities (namely being in charge of 100 some college students and operating on a caffeine IV with minimal sleep).  I came to do some service, attend a Foundation meeting and socialize - and then I left.  I also was able to take in the fall colors and enjoy the calm quiet of my rural surroundings.  I love my concrete jungle, but once in a while I do embrace a change in scenery.
• I did miss being involved in the K-Family in both the social and service aspect.  I reconnected with people I hadn't seen in 2.5 years.  Granted I've communicated with them via e-mail for WIUM KDF business, but that's not quite the same.  We call it K-"Family" for a reason; I literally felt like the "long lost cousin" at the board meeting (by those who I've known before).  And speaking of board meetings, I strangely missed them.  I know, I'm weird.  But I guess it's kind of like being a Cubs fan; once it's in your blood it's near impossible to get it out.  Although, I did forget one aspect - people like to "volunteer" you for positions.  Thus, I am now Marketing Co-Chair for the Foundation.  Yikes!

Overall, it was great to be back in the loop again. And thanks to Diane, Jan, Janet, Paul, Pierski and of course, Ken for welcoming me back with open arms.  I can guarantee it will not be 2.5 years before I visit again!

a 9.11 perspective

9/11 is to us as to what JFK's assasination is to our parents.  As our parents can immediately answer the question - "Where were you when JFK was shot?", we can do the same for "Where were you when the Towers were hit?".  

I remember the day vividly.  It was a gorgeous, sunny day, highs in the 70s with a slight breeze. - a day perfect for playing hookie.  But alas, I had to attend a training at Children's Service Society of Wisconsin (this was back in my non-profit/social service days).  Before I left my office, I already knew about the first tower being hit, but chalked it up to a mechanical malfunction.  The reality of a terrorist attack on US soil was far-fetched at 8:00 am CDT on 11 September 2001.  During the drive over the second tower was hit but I was listening to a CD - probably one of the few oblivious Americans at this point.  I walked into CSSW and then I found out about the Pentagon.  I recall the receptionist asking, "Are you ok, because you just turned white."  I responded with, "My parents live just outside DC" whilst thinking "Holy shit my mom works at Navy."  

Upon recovering from the shock, I was actually pissed.  How dare anyone attack the city of my birth and the metro area where my family lives?  What the hell did we do to deserve this?  After my minute internal tirade, I tried to call my parents via cell - to be greeted by the Gene Mueller (the radio newsguy) telling me that all cell service was shut off into DC as it might trigger another attack.  I proceeded back to work, still somewhat dazed.  

Then I read an e-mail from my mom:  "Both towers were hit.  The Pentagon was hit.  We are running on generators.  They are evacuating all non-essential personnel.  We're shaken, but I'm ok." 

This began my six-hour attempt to reach my parents via land line.  Finally, at 3:30 CDT, I got a hold of my mom.  Still shaken, but still ok. 

On that day, the reality of feeling safe on our home soil had been shattered. And the public wondered if we would ever be safe again.

Yes, the TSA has stepped up airline passenger protocol in an effort to ease our minds.  While I think we probably should have been showing an ID to fly in the first place, not being able to bring a larger than 3 oz bottle of contact lens solution is a little drastic.  I understand the theory and what the TSA is trying to do, but let's face it.  If a terrorist really wants to smuggle an explosive or weapon on an airplane, they will find a way to do it - it just won't be as easy.

Yet in global comparison, America was and still is a safe country.  Car bombs don't go off.  There isn't violent unrest between neighboring nations.  Our water and food supply is generally parasite free.  We don't face the penalty of death for having different beliefs.  In the grand scheme, we are a fortunate nation. 

Ten years later, we continue to honor all those who perished in the attacks - from the first responders at what is now Ground Zero to the passengers on Flight 93 to the victims of circumstance at the Pentagon.  In a sense, it could referred to another "day that will live in infamy".  And while I don't think we should forget the events of that day, the media (as it sometimes has a tendency to do) went a little overboard.  I don't think that makes me any less of a citizen of this country for thinking that.  

However, it has been said (numerous times on Sunday and leading up to that day), that 9.11 brought a sense of patriotism and unity to the country.  I'd like to believe so but sadly,  I don't think it has.  Sure "God Bless America" is now sung at sporting events all around the country.  Singing this anthem doesn't make one automatically patriotic as sitting in a garage doesn't automatically make you a car.  There are still people out there who believe all Muslims are responsible for the events of that day, even though the reality is it was a group of radical extremists using religion to further their propaganda, as sick and hateful as it may be.  The same goes for Christian extremist who claim to act in the name of God.  That doesn't sound like unity to me.  

Once we are able to accept differences in others (i.e. race, creed, accent, religious beliefs, cultures, sexual orientation) and learn from these differences, only then will we even be able to begin on the path to a true United States of America. 

birthday wishes 2011 - revised

What a difference a week makes...

While I still intend to adhere to the list (which you can view here), but one wish needs to be added to the very top of the list:  

that my mom wins her battle with pancreatic cancer.

On Saturday, the news hit like a ton of bricks - and it wasn't easy to fully absorb.  In fact, the reality hit about 1:30 am Tuesday when I finally cried (and generally, I'm not a crier).  That's when I stopped asking "why my mom?"  and realized this energy needed to go to support my mom in any way possible.  Right now, I think my "support" is coming in the forms of:  strength and encouragement, a sounding board and comic relief (go figure).  But her daughter saying funny, stupid shit will play a role in her recovery.

Thankfully, my mom is resilient and determined (or as I like to say "a strong stubborn German woman" - yes, that is a compliment - and if anyone can beat this it's a strong, stubborn German woman).  She is also receiving some of the best health care in the world at Johns Hopkins, so I know medically she is good hands.  And either my dad, brother or sister-in-law (and sometimes all three) are going with her to the appointments - which undeniably helps.  Plus, she has her faith.  If you are one of those praying types, my mom would greatly appreciate them.  If not - please send good vibes and happy, healing thoughts her way. 

Most importantly, my mom is staying in good spirits (all things considered) and is living her life to the fullest.  I'm believing she's one of the less that 10% that beats the disease, but I've learned rather quickly to savor every moment of life while you can fully enjoy it.  

have foot, will travel

For quite some time (at least a year), I have been contemplating going car-free.

Seriously.

Living on Milwaukee's "fashionable" east side, I've realizing almost everything I need on a daily basis is within a mile - drug store, grocery store, nightlife, entertainment and even volleyball.  My only reservation was commuting 12 miles to work, as MCTS sometimes does not have the greatest routes or schedules.

Then I decided it would be fun to rear-end a car on I-94 a week ago, and my car decided to retaliate by overheating on Tuesday.  Apparently this is what happens when one demolishes the engine cooling fan in said accident.  Since the car is not drivable (and the bf is conveniently with his car in Minnesota), enter the "big green bus" or the scary world of public transit.

The last time I had to commute to work was when I was living in Bay View - the commute took an hour long bus ride and a 3/4 mile walk.  In the rain (ok, it really did rain once).  And that was a straight shot.  I couldn't imagine how hellish an East Side to West Allis commute would be.  Turns out, it's not so bad even with a transfer downtown.  The #44 Freeway Flyer is a wonderful thing that drops/picks up 3 blocks from work.  It's only a couple blocks between the transfer points, it only live a block away from the bus stop (about 10 blocks total, if you're keeping track) and...it only adds 30 minutes to my total commute.  For real.  But the best part?  I can listen to my iPod, play games or facebook while someone else drives - and I get to be "entertained" by the sights, such as crazy bus riders and bubble gum pink Audis.

I got to thinking:  maybe this IS actually possible.

But what about running errands or grocery shopping or dog food?  

Well, I thought about that too.   I work walking distance to a 'big-box" grocery store, so I can stock the work fridge with lunches.   Plus, I tend to lean toward the European way of grocery shopping - stopping by the store daily to get what you need (and guarantee it's fresh - part of the theory, not necessarily me). There are friends I can probably con into driving me to get dog food or to Target, or to Target to get dog food - for a nominal fee (read: lunch at Arby's).  And there is this little thing called ZipCar, where you can reasonably "rent" a car by the hour - conveniently located on UWM's campus.  For longer trips, there's always Enterprise.  But realistically, I've grown fond of the "pedestrian lifestyle" and tend to walk wherever I can.  Plus, most of the time I do things "in da hood" or I persuade someone else to drive.

Yes, I am still thinking this is possible.  And that it still makes sense.

Globally, I'd be leaving my "carbon footprint" and being eco-friendly - but really, I'm viewing that as an added bonus.  Economically, I would save about $380/month ($4500/year) by not having a car.  That's a number one can't argue with - who wouldn't want an extra chunk of money each month?  Emotionally (aka sanity), driving and other drivers piss me off causing me not to enjoy the experience.  Leaving it to someone else helps me maintain (at least some) stability.  And sanity - in any arena - is a good thing.

This isn't to say that living a car-free lifestyle is permanent.   However, right now it seems to be the way to go.

Seriously.

look who's 10!

Over Memorial Day weekend 2002, my life changed forever when a nine month old pup entered my home...and my heart.

To be honest, I wasn't the one who initially noticed Cayenne online - and I was a bit hesitant to get another dog.  Upon further research I learned that he had already been in and out of two homes, and was searching for his "forever home".  Then I was sucked in by those big, brown eyes and big, goofy smile.  There was no doubt in my mind that Cayenne would be my dog.

Cayenne arrived in Wisconsin via plane from California.  His plane ticket was more than he was.  When he touched ground, he was skittish - and understandably so.  I mean, how would you feel if you were just shipped off 2000 miles away?  In fact, I'm told he peed in the car on the way home.  I finally met him after work that Friday, and Caye greeted me the adorable clumsiness of a pup still trying to grow into his body.  This would likely explain many of my "mystery bruises" those first few months.

Over the nest few weeks, Caye settled into his new digs nicely -although I did need to teach him that the sniffing of the crotch is not an appropriate greeting for humans (and yes, once in a while we still need to work on that) and that shoes are not toys.  It was also apparent Caye was indeed my dog.  If you remember the My Buddy doll ads, that was Caye and I - he was pretty much surgically attached to me whenever I was home.

Since he was always underfoot, I had plenty of opportunity to observe Caye's personality.  He has to be one of the most curious (read:  "little shit"), gentlest, happiest and friendliest dogs I've ever known.  Trust me, he tries to make friends with all animals (see above pics).  Because of this, I still wonder why his first two owners didn't want him.  Maybe it's because he's a "bully breed" (read:  American Pit Bull, American Staffordshire and like breeds) and was stereotyped as a "fighter" - which he is obviously not.  Maybe they didn't want a family dog or didn't want to care for him.  Maybe they couldn't deal with the clumsiness and training of a puppy.  Whatever the reason, I'll never know.  I'll also never know what the first nine months of his life were like - although I have some suspicions.  Despite that, Caye easily forgave the actions of his previous owners (as dogs do) by trusting and accepting me with open paws.  What I do know is that Cayenne ended up where he was supposed to be.

And while I was there for Caye by giving him a forever home, he's been there for me too. During my whole divorce ordeal, he was the best listener and snuggler ever.  We mourned the loss of Lily (his older sister) together.  Caye also laid by me after my knee surgery (careful not to actually touch the knee) to make sure I was okay...although never completely understood why I couldn't take him for a walk.   Yes, dogs are amazingly intuitive.  Dogs also possess and provide unconditional love, despite all your idiosyncrasies.  If you don't believe this, you must witness how Caye reacts when I come home from work (or taking out the garbage).  To be honest, I love the big guy too - quirks and all.  These quirks include, but are not limited to:  a fondness for black labs, regardless of gender; the need to turn around three times before retiring on the bed for the night and the propensity to rip the faces off all his stuffed toys. 

Cayenne has also served as a fantastic ambassador (ambassadog) for his breed.  People compliment me on what a sweet and well-behaved boy he is - usually after they comment on how muscular and handsome he is.  I mean, how can you resist that smile and wagging tail (which actually wiggles his whole body)?  Cayenne was socialized from his beginnings with me, and is always willing to meet other dogs and people as well as tag along on public excursions.  His favorites include the farmer's market and the Palomino, not only because of the "sniff stops" and affection from folks, but because of the very good chance he'll get bacon.  (Ok, maybe it's really because of the bacon).  Regardless of the motive, Caye's charming and endearing demeanor - plus good looks and positive attitude - has won over skeptics and changed more than a few minds about the perception of the breed.  That was never my intent, but Caye is indeed a "poster dog" for all that is good in "bully breeds".

Nine years later, Cayenne is (finally) showing signs of his age by mellowing a bit and white hair on his face while still maintaining the curiosity and playfulness of a puppy, and of course, his undeniable zest for life.  He is the best pup anymore could ask for...and I wouldn't trade him for the world. 

Happy 10th birthday big guy! 

palin = moron

Last fall, Sarah Palin characterized Michelle Obama's "Let's Move" anti-obesity campaign as an assault on individual rights.

"What she is telling us is that we can't trust parents to make decisions for their families in what we should eat," Palin told radio host Laura Ingraham. "Instead of a government thinking that they need to take over and make decisions for us according to some politician or politician's wife priorities, just leave us alone."

So tell me, how is this different from the GOP taking over and attempting to force legislation to dictate women's reproductive rights? 

Fucking idiot.

quote from this article