Attention Alert important information

I made an inadvertent mistake. I'm paying for it over and over. I'm spending my days NOT answering my cell phone. Don't let this happen to you.

On a sparkling fall day, I walked into the Loft in Country Club Plaza in Kansas City. They had a great sale going on and even more off if you opened an account. I didn't think anything about it. I often open store credit cards for the perks and sales and pay them off. No biggie. My first error in judgment--No biggie.

New card came, bill came, paid for my purchase. Didn't go back over Christmas because I wasn't shopping for that sort of thing. But around Thanksgiving I started getting, every Tuesday, a call and voicemail to call World Financial Network about a "personal business matter." I ignored it and couldn't do anything about it because the number doing the calling was blocked.

Starting yesterday, the calls are coming hot and heavy. No longer unknown. No voicemail. And from Ohio, Denver, Kansas. All the same thing, although I don't answer them. I've looked it up on the internet. It's them, calling, calling, calling. Different numbers, different locations, but the same thing. They called 8 times yesterday and 3 times already today.

This is an attempt to sell me other of their products. I don't owe anything on my Loft card. I am so angry I can hardly stand it. I will never shop at these stores again and obviously I'm closing this account. Don't open store accounts. And seriously, Ann Taylor, how could you let yourself get hooked up with these guys?

2010 (and 2011) by the numbers

So my grand total of books ended at 93. I have always thought I read more than that in a year, but apparently I was mistaken. I'm finishing a book a day so far in 2011, but I won't maintain that pace. Freezing cold temperatures keep me out of my garden. I exchange hours in the garden for hours reading books.

And my grand total on weight went up over the holidays. Way too much Christmas cheer. I may have to take out a restraining order on these five pounds. They are stalking me. And I'm tired of losing the same ones over and over.

Last year, despite rough parts, ended pretty well. I could have done without some drama, but there it is. So here's some highlights and lowlights:

The best of 2010

1. Nobody was in the hospital. 2009 saw 2 surgeries and a birth. It was a relief for that to change.

2. Colts weddings. Having so much fun with all our Colts friends. Fabulous.

3. Growing granddaughters becoming more delightful little people every day.

4. Best growing season in a very long time. Enough rain. Beautiful flowers.

5. Two boys getting new jobs they like better. In this economy.

6. Fall trip to Arkansas and Kansas City. Longer than usual and we needed it.

7. All the new babies of December. What a treat.

8. The trip to Omaha with Sue.

9. Losing weight--both of us. We feel better and look better.

10.Having some editing to do--thanks, Denny.

11. The trip to Florida. Seeing Sebastian and Shanna at home was great.

12. My new car. Finally not trapped.

The worst of 2010

1. David's job

2. David's job

3. David's job--Horrible uncertainty for 5 months. It clouded the entire first 8 months of the year. More stressful than I could ever imagine.

4. Struggling to lose weight. There were times I thought I'd just give up.

5. Furnace repair right as the job uncertainty started.

6. Missing Sebastian and Shanna when they were in Iowa.

7. Colts firing Ray and Mike. Made me angry and sad.

8. People being pissy. To the car behind them, to customers, to constituents, to family members. Makes me wanna pop somebody.

9. Jimmie Johnson. Winning again. Existing in Nascar.

10. Missing people I don't see very often. And no real way to fix this.

That's how it all added up.

It's math, isn't it?

So I'm reading a story about Keith Richards, the miraculous survivor, in The New Yorker. Comments are made concerning aging rock stars (these guys are pushing 70) and their paunchy aging fans. Ok mea culpa. I look a lot more like that elephant that Mick rode onto the stage in Memphis than I used to. And yes Keith that did happen, despite your interview averring that the elephant idea had been abandoned. I was there. It wasn't abandoned.

Anyway, back to the point. While talking about aging fans, the writer goes on to say that all the fans "donned apres-office relaxed-size jeans, PAID THE SITTER, parked the mini-van in the lot, and . . . shimmy . . ." Excuse me? Pay the sitter? My baby is 22 years old. Even given that the last tour was 2007, he was still 19. Never mind the egregious verb shift between past and present committed by the writer. Can you not do math?

I am at the lower age range of original Beatles/Stones fans. I was 9 years old when the Beatles were on Ed Sullivan. That means lots of fans have children even older than mine. Someone 19 then could have a youngest child who is 35 now.

Getting older mostly sucks. Just so you know. But a perk of aging and your children aging, which delighted me for years, was leaving the children without having to get a sitter. Just intending to walk out the door without planning two weeks in advance made me so happy. And kids get to be teen agers very quickly. The "middle-aged" fans all at least have children old enough to stay home alone, even taking into account all the oops babies. And delayed pregnancies. By and large middle-aged people don't have 5 year olds.

And I won't belabor it too much longer, but sharpen your math skills when you depict grandparents too. It is possible to become a grandparent at 36 (18+18) or less I suppose. Most people are not the older couple in the Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving picture when they become grandparents. They are mostly in their 40s or early 50s. And able to dance in the kitchen with their granddaughters.

And just so you know, Woodstock was 41 years ago. Do the math.

Bah bye Nascar

I'm breaking up with Nascar. It's been a long and tumultuous relationship. I've finally seen the light and decided to call it quits.

Nascar hasn't been meeting my needs for a long time. Nascar didn't listen when I tried to explain my need for a new champion. It became defensive and hostile when I pointed out its faults. It was a bad boyfriend. I'm moving on.

Back in the day, our relationship was fun. Owner-drivers like Alan Kulwicki could beat the mega-teams. My favorite driver had a shot at the championship and actually got one in the days when one team didn't hog them all. Drivers with finesse and ability won the races. Even that champion hog Dale Earnhardt was colorful. And a good driver. And added something to my enjoyment, even if it was only to boo him.

Mostly, back then, people won who were good at this. Who were good in any car they got in. And they made it enjoyable to watch. I really didn't like the Intimidator, but watching him catch a loose car out of a turn was truly poetry. He was that good.

I even had a relationship with Nascar when the races were on Wide World of Sports. I watched Ned Jarrett before he was an announcer. I loved the Allisons and I still can't watch the reports of Davy's death. I've been faithful and patient.

The current record holder is NOT that good. He wins on strategy and rules interpretation (cheating). It's like watching a computer run. It's boring. He's boring. It's golf.

Other people have tried to tell Nascar that falling ratings would not be helped by having this little twerp win again. I tried, reporters tried, other drivers tried. I expected one of those usual speeding, too long/too short, unapproved parts calls on the current champ to save Nascar's relationships with its fans. Nascar did nothing. They were busy fining the driver most like Earnhardt for flipping someone the bird, inside his car. And keeping Bowyer out for some weird reason. And letting some people go at it boys, but not others. Seriously?!!! This is what you thought would save our relationship?

With regret, I'm moving on. I love racing, but I'll still have Formula One, Indy, drag racing, and rally. I have taken Dr. Phil's advice to heart--you can only be an abused doormat if you let yourself be an abused doormat. You took me for granted too long. We're breaking up.

Happy anniversary to me

No not that one. That's another month away. This marks one year that I decided to begin exercising every day for an hour. And I didn't give up in the middle. And I lost 15 pounds.

I am so pleased with myself. And I'm shouting it from the rooftops because I am usually my own worst critic. I don't write enough. I don't clean enough. I don't garden enough. I haven't finished everything for Christmas yet. You get the idea.

And I never stay with things like this. I've started an exercise routine a zillion times. This time it worked. Several things contributed immensely to my success this time.

First, Fittv. Simply knowing an exercise routine was available basically whenever I wanted took the time element out of the equation. Having a DVR to expand the time choices available helped tremendously also. So I could (and have)do a routine from 5 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon. Pick one.

My own schedule being as flexible as it is also made it great. I never lost the only chance I had to exercise by having a bad night's sleep or having to be anywhere. I could do it anytime.

And my own determination improves all the time. I still don't like doing this, but I do it anyway. I even managed to swim most days on vacation.

And in January, David started using the treadmill every morning. It encourages me to keep on keeping on. Having someone else to commiserate with really helps.

So it worked for some reason. And I'm so very glad it did. Both of us look and feel better. It literally improves the quality of life.

Back to Ripley

Last night D and I were discussing book shifting. We are attempting to group unread books from books that we love but have read. It's a constantly changing landscape. I daresay a landscape based on mountains because there are very tall piles of books. Very. I am reluctant to part with books that I might read again, a recurring problem as winter approaches. Boredom for me is almost always solved by re-reading.

Anyway, D wanted to move Patricia Highsmith. We have a Ripley omnibus containing the first 3 Ripley novels. I objected because I re-read old Tom on a fairly regular schedule. Almost as often as I re-read Holden Caulfield. So Ripley stayed on the bedroom bookcase.

Then I read Charlaine Harris' book and blog. Apparently, Jack Reacher was put on trial as a panel discussion at Bouchercon. And found guilty. Murdering and what have you. Bad form you know. This made Charlaine think about all the various protagonists who are seriously flawed. Not in that personal, self-destructive way. No the ones who are a danger to the people around them. As she said, she'd want Reacher around on a desert island to work his magic, but if she had a broken leg and he was hungry, maybe not.

So I started wondering about all the characters we love in spite of ourselves. I really, really want Tom Ripley to get away with murder. I want Dexter to continue to rid Miami of pond scum. And as a nod to Charlaine, I don't want people staking my favorite vampire, Eric, even though he kills other people pretty regularly. Examining this impulse closely makes me feel slightly immoral.

My rooting for the bad boys goes beyond actively wanting these murderers to go free. I detest the goody-two-shoes of literature as well. My first memorable experience involved The Heart of Midlothian by Sir Walter Scott. I wanted to shoot the heroic Jeanie Dean. Her dilemma involved telling a lie to prevent the execution of her sister or going all around the houses to prove her sister's innocence. Seriously, she knew the girl was innocent. Tell the lie and be done with it. The other method required her to walk all over Scotland, importuning people. I still shake my head after reading that. Expediency, girl. The end result was the same and much less exhausting.

I know most of my loving these rascals means that the authors are just that good. I understand the murdererer's motivation and approve of it. Mysteries being little moral dramas allow the reader to see the world in black and white. Bad guys and good guys are easy to recognize in this moral drama. The good guy wears a white hat. He has good intentions, even if he uses unconventional methods. He hunts down the bad people. You know you cheer when the bad guy dies. And really you shouldn't. But isn't it delicious to play god? And after this ghastly election, isn't it refreshing when the good guys win?

Hype and all that jazz

Sooooo got home Halloween night after a weekend with the grandkids. I managed to miss trick or treats twice. Des Moines, being obdurate and hindbound, insists on having trick or treat on All Hallow's Eve Eve--October 30. I wasn't home that night, so I missed the little beggars. We left Chicago Halloween afternoon before the right thinking people of Illinois start to trick or treat. Wow. Couldn't have planned it better.

We left earlier than planned and got home in time for Ghost Hunters live. I enjoy Jay and Grant and the things that go bump in the night. One live outing on Halloween was at the Stanley hotel, the inspiration for Stephen King's The Shining. It really was fun and spooky and featured all the regular TAPS guys. This one was at a train station in Buffalo. I'm not really familiar with it, but they have been there before. The original plan for our weekend would have gotten us home almost as the program was ending. So this was an unexpected bonus.

And what a disappointment! The entire show was a thinly veiled promotion for every other show on the Syfy channel. So in a half hour time you might get 6 minutes of the ghost hunters and 24 minutes of ads and hype for other shows. I can see promoting the other ghost hunter shows--international and academy. I can even see the other two paranormally kind of shows. But wrestling? On Syfy? Seriously? Unless they wrestle ghosts or on a spaceship, what is up with that?

And by promoting, I would mean that they are the commercials in the show. I do not mean that they are the show as they were last night. And I just have to ask, is Josh Gates some executive's brother-in-law? nephew? son? The man is ubiquitous. And is grating on my last nerve. I think Jay and Grant should get a percentage of his earnings as his agent, since he is the constant third wheel at their events. Wouldn't watch a show starring him if it were the last thing on tv. And so very unhappy to see him as presenter last night.

And frankly, if the people who were on were supposed to encourage me to watch their shows, they failed miserably. The wrestler and whoever the chick was stood around looking disengaged and cold. They might as well have worn sandwich boards that read "My agent told me to show up here. I have no clue whatsoever." Is it that difficult to pretend ghosts scare you?

The end result was that I turned it over to Dirty Jobs that was a repeat because one more commercial for wrestling would have sent me over the edge. Syfy, you did a rotten job with this, so I'm watching something else next year. I used to enjoy these, but this sucked. I apologize to Jay and Grant, knowing these decisions are not made by them. Syfy, get a clue.