Cupcakes

I had the most awesome idea! I will cook my way through Julia Child's cookbook and BLOG about it. Then people will send me money, they will make a movie about me and I will also be an excellent cook.

What? Really? Oh, damn.

Well, at least I still have my Sweet Friends award, from my sweet friend Reforming Geek, or RG as I like to call her.

I now have to pass this award along to two 'sweet' bloggers so in honor of Julie & Julia (who totally stole my idea) I bestow this award on Sara and Sara.

Well deserved!

Mazel Tov! (Hope that means thanks...)

My new BFF Magda has awarded me this award. Well, strictly speaking she awarded it to all of us because you guys are so awesome.

No, really, here's exactly what she said:

"She even has the best commentors. Sharp, stylish, funnier than shit. Well informed. Goddess. Are you sure it is ok that I share the blogosphere with you?"

Well, that's just about the nicest thing anyone ever said to me. Except maybe Absence of Alternatives, who said I have Michelle Obama arms. I've been preening in the mirror ever since, trying to look more stylish and godlike.

Anyway, I accept on behalf of all of us fabulous bloggers with Michelle Obama arms.

Although I'm willing to exclude Solipsist from that last bit. You're welcome.

I'm supposed to pass the award along as Magda did so beautifully (you should check out her blog list). My problem is that all of you deserve it and many of you already have it.

So, if you follow this blog consider yourself awarded and thanks (as always) for the great comments.

LM...AO

Click here and watch William Shatner read Levi's Tweets. Just do it.

What's in a name?

I just read a great post over at Sara's repeating a Facebook conversation on baby names, which got me thinking that I might have missed out on an opportunity to inflict my own brand of creative psychosis on my offspring.

Damn. I'm usually so good about stuff like that.

So, if I ever have another baby girl, I will consider calling her:

Debris;
Shanaynay;
Celery;
Placenta (or maybe Placenta-Marie);
Sierra Mist;
Aphrodite; or perhaps...
Faboo

Or better yet, a German name, like Bundesliga.

Other suggestions?

Of course, no contest if it's a boy:

Gaylord. I love that name.

I is for Insane, Ironic and Impossible

Insane: Here's a quick breakdown of German political parties for you closet Deutschophiles who've been thinking recently that a country full of men in leather can't be all bad. There's the CDU, or the Christian Democrats, who more or less stand for the middle way, i.e., fiscally conservative but with some social conscience. Then there's the SDP, or Socialist Democrats, who have fallen completely out of favor since Gerhard Schroeder's time. And finally worth a mention is the FDP, or the Free Democrats, who basically want to deregulate everything and have a totally free market.

I asked Ralf yesterday how he votes, since I can't vote here. 'Are we fascists?' I asked hopefully, trying to sound informed about modern German politics. 'Green party,' was his response.

I've lived in Russia and I've seen first hand how much Communism sucks so I'm all for the free market. However, I also stayed awake long enough in economics class to learn about the Tragedy of the Commons, which states that unless restrained, multiple individuals acting rationally in their own self-interest will ultimately destroy a shared limited resource even when it is clear that it is not in anyone's long term interest for this to happen. Not might, will.

Anyway, although the CDU currently enjoys a political majority, the FDP scored an unprecedented number of votes in yesterday's national election, leading me to wonder why people always expect the same thinking that got them into trouble in the first place to get them out of it again.

Ironic: This may sound nitpicky but that song 'Isn't It Ironic' by Alanis Morrisette bugs me, not just due to its highly irriating melody but because in a long litany of things that are supposed to be ironic few of them actually are. I mean, rain on your wedding day is not ironic. Neither is an airplane crash with a passenger who fears flying. Anyway. The other day my yoga instructor Carolyn read a nice passage out loud about the enormous amount of energy women put into their appearance and how if they would channel that same energy to some higher purpose it would be enough to change the world. Incidentally, Carolyn is very attractive and looks amazing in white spandex. Now, THAT'S ironic!

Impossible: Several months back I bought a blender and two weeks ago it went up in flames while I was pureeing organic strawberries. I no longer had the receipt so I told Ralf he would have to return the blender because I knew he would succeed where I would fail. During the course of trying to return a blender to a German store with no receipt the word 'impossible' was uttered at least a dozen times by various store employees. Ralf patiently worked his way up the management chain and informed the store manager that having an easy return policy is the lifeblood of commerce. 'This is why people buy lots of shit they don't need in the US,' he explained. 'Because they know they can take it back, no questions asked. And the stores know that when they do, they'll buy more shit they don't need. Now, give me back my money for this piece of shit fire hazard you sold my wife!'

Finally after about 40 minutes of this the manager told him in a hushed voice that if he wanted his money back he would have to sign a legally binding testimony that he had bought the blender at Marktkauf. The manager seemed to think Ralf would chicken out and head for the hills once he heard this news. Instead Ralf laughed and said, 'Bring it.'

Yes, my modern day he man did get our money back.

H is for Honeypiehorse

Why, you ask, do I call myself Honeypiehorse?

I apparently have two primary facial expressions: frowning and grinning ear to ear. I've often been asked why I'm glaring at someone, to which I protest, 'I'm not, I'm smiling benevolently!' But no one believes me.

Long ago when we were dating and I was grinning Ralf said, 'Du grinnst wie ein Honigkuchenpferd,' which means, 'You grin like a honeypiehorse.' I think it's kind of a ginger cookie shaped like a horse.

I didn't speak a word of German back then and 'Honigkuchenpferd' sounded incredibly sexy. I wanted Ralf to call me Honigkuchenpferd instead of Schlumpf, which is what he usually called me (that's German for Smurf, by the way). And when I signed up for Yahoo Messenger I wanted to be Honigkuchenpferd.

But then I ran into a little snag.

Honigkuchenpferd was taken! So were Honigkuchenpferd 1, 2 and several more until I gave up in disgust - I mean, who the heck wants to be Honigkuchenpferd 28?

So I settled for English.

And there you have it, the story of me.

G is for Gravity

Our good friend Oller, K's godfather, puts a lot of thought into his gifts. He once gave me a book of short stories by Haruki Murakami in German because I lived in Japan. He also once scored me Munich opera tickets because my grandmother was an opera singer, although I was 9 months pregnant at the time so I opted out - it was Wagner and that's a lot of sitting.

And recently he gave me an Alpha Centauri DVD produced by the Bayerischer Rundfunk, a series of astrophysics lectures from Prof. Dr. Harald Lesch.

I adore astrophysics, being a closet astrophysicist myself. Since I was 13 I've been fascinated with black holes, quasars and warped space time. And Dr. Lesch has a casual, humorous speaking style that really brings these topics to life for the layman.

As Ralf and I watch the lectures our conversation goes something like this:

Ralf: That's the best description of the Planck Scale I've ever heard.

Me: Really? How come?

Ralf: Well, he's the first person who explained that the Planck Scale is where the inability to measure anything smaller intersects the event horizon, where nothing is emited.

Pause.

Me: I dunno, that's just a fancy way of saying it's the smallest we can measure.

Pause.

Ralf: Still cool, though.

Me: I guess.

Then, when Prof. Dr. Lesch explains Relativity, I get up in arms.

Me: How old is this video?? They've already proven that information can travel faster than light speed with those particles that are in two places at once.

Ralf: Don't be such an astrophysics snob.

Me: I'm so not! I'm totally down with the people on astrophysics. In fact, I would have been a great astrophysicist.

Ralf: You?

Me: Duh. I'm really good at math.

Ralf: You?

Me: Sure. I can do differential calcs in my sleep.

Ralf: But you suck at finance.

Me (with dignity): That's completely different.

Actually, maybe G is for Geek.

F is for Fitness

You may recall that I recently joined a gym that I've been attending on a pay-per-visit basis for about 8 years. One of the reasons was that I wanted to break out of my unmotivating stairmaster rut and get back into aerobics.

Yes, people, 'back into.' I was an aerobics instructor in college, although my workout regime has been pretty spotty since then. Sadly, I no longer have a heart like a horse but on the upside, I'm carrying around 30 fewer pounds than I was back then, so all in all it hasn't been a huge transition back to fat burning activity.

As a rule I don't like female aerobics instructors, although of course I was my own favorite instructor back in the day. Particularly not in Germany. German women tend to be a bit gamier than their American counterparts, due to more lean muscle and less sun screen. I don't mean they aren't attractive, far from it. Many of the women at my gym are drop dead gorgeous in that tan, toned, golden blonde, sky blue eyed way that well-heeled Californian housewives try to emulate.

Maybe just a tad leathery, but not in a bad way.

Then there's me. Well, you know what I look like. On a normal day, almost pretty. Although I must say that after two weeks of relentless aerobics I am starting to look almost hot, which I think trumps almost pretty. And I plan to plateau at almost hot because hot would be way too much work.

But anyway, German female aerobics instructors often have strict personalities and I don't feel like being scolded by Frau Willhemina Wunderbar while I excercise. The exception is my yoga instructor, Caroline, who talks like Kathleen Turner and always asks me in a throaty, wondering tone why I can't fold myself in half. But that's not scolding, she's just saying.

My favorite aerobics instructor is Christopher, a skinny, flamboyant young man who clearly enjoys putting the hottest women in Munich - and me - through our paces.

Of course, the best part is eating cake afterwards.

PS For those of you kind enough to send me warm fuzzies over at Working Girl I have a new post in which several celebrities make a cameo: http://ls-workgirl.blogspot.com/

XOXO

E is for Embarassing

Well, really, it's a shame E only comes around once because so many things are embarassing. Still, there's always H for 'Humiliating' so I'm going to blow my E post on the following:

K starts school next week and had her 6th birthday party yesterday so last Thursday we stopped by the school supplies store to buy notebooks, pens, glue, construction paper and other useful stuff.

The stern German shopkeeper ringing up the family in front of us handed the little girl a large box with ABC printed on it and explained that it was full of free supplies for kids starting school. The girl tripped merrily out of the store with her free box of stuff while K tracked her egress with narrowed eyes.

Then she fixed those same eyes on me expectantly and I understood that she also wanted a box of free stuff.

Come to mention it, so did I. I mean, free stuff. So while the German shopkeeper was ringing us up, with nary a word about free stuff, I informed her that K is also starting school.

'The box is only for kids who buy their school supplies here,' she informed me gruffly.

I guess my paltry stash didn't make the cut. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I tried again: 'Her father brought her last week and bought a whole bunch of stuff for school and he did not come home with a box of free stuff.'

She shrugged and handed me my change.

I shook my head sadly at K and we turned to go. She's very supportive in moments like these. She doesn't have a very high opinion of my success rate in confrontations with German shopkeepers but I do get credit for trying.

'Wait!'

With an apparent change of heart, the shopkeeper ran into the back room and emerged holding a red shoulder bag with something in it. She presented it to K, who methodically sized it up and shook her head. 'No, thanks.'

I winced and smiled a weak apology. Next week's topic will be, 'Pretending you like something.'

Looking somewhat strained and clearly regretting her spontaneous half generosity, the shopkeeper said, 'Well, then, your sister can have it.'

She looked around for L and stiffened.

Then I looked around for L and stiffened.

L had apparently decided she spends too much time clothed from the waist down and had pulled down her pants and underwear.

'L, pull up your pants!' I whispered.

Delighted, she turned around and mooned us with some impressive wiggling action. Then she stood up and came forward to collect her free bag, pants dragging around her ankles and swishing loudly as she shuffled across the carpet.

Somehow all of this happened in slow motion.

Oh, and in any other country there would have been some friendly chuckles about this. Not so in Germany.

'Thank you,' I muttered, yanking up L's pants and pretty much running out of the store.

K, happily, kept her pants on.

And now, if any of you are part-time working moms like me, this post may interest you: http://ls-workgirl.blogspot.com/

D is for Discerning

My husband and I work for the same company, although our paths rarely cross professionally.

This is partly intentional, because who wants to be told how to do their job over dinner, and partly a matter of circumstance. Ralf heads up product management for our technology group, while I am responsible for a small corner of the world on the business applications side. Basically, I design compensation software and Ralf decides what development Tools will be available to the developers who build our software.

I know you were wondering.

Although one might assume that control over someone's domestic comfort confers a lot of power, for the most part I do my job without asking Ralf for favors. If presented with a technical limitation I brainstorm with a team of application developers to figure out a workaround.

Which means I don't usually have a chance to see my hubby in action. And he for the most part has little idea what I'm working on, at least not beyond what he occassionally overhears: '... that doesn't look right... oh, wait that could work... crap, no it won't... damn budget... why doesn't that add up right... Where the hell did he come from, he's not even assigned to this plan... Oh, for Chrissake, people, just use Excel... where's the chocolate?... wait. . .wait. . . I THINK I HAVE IT!!! YES!!! THIS COULD TOTALLY WORK!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MUCH I RULE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, wait, no, that won't work, either. . . '

I like to share the love while I work.

But this morning I presented him with a business requirement that can't be met with our current development tools. It was a fairly complex requirement, since designing compensation solutions that will work for a broad spectrum of companies of varying size and diverse requirements without creating such a complex beast that no one can use it is not particularly easy. And my explanation wasn't all that great. But he totally got it and after hearing me out for less than a minute grabbed my pen and mapped out exactly what I was trying to say.

Some of you may recall that this is a man who can't run a load of laundry without turning my underwear pink, and thinks if you boil a raw chicken for your sick wife it will somehow turn into an edible and nourishing soup, but he can size up a poorly explained problem in under a minute and summarize the salient points.

So this post is dedicated to my discerning husband.

C is for Chicken

Before heading back to Germany we were invited to barbeque with friends who keep chickens. I've always liked chickens and wouldn't mind keeping chickens myself some day but that's neither here nor there.

After we'd arrived and were thoughtfully supplied with beer and finger food our friend regaled us with the tale of how he'd had to kill one of his chickens the day before. I won't go into detail but apparently the creepy story of how they run around for like, ten minutes, after you chop off their heads is totally true.

'Why did you kill it?' I asked, watching uneasily as his wife wandered by with a plate full of raw chicken.

The answer: 'She had a nasty abscess and was starting to dig into it with her beak. She was basically eating herself.'

So glad I asked.

Friend: 'So we had to kill her.'

Me: 'Oh, totally.'

A short, thoughtful pause.

Me: 'Er. . . that wouldn't be the cancerous, self-mutilating chicken on the grill now, would it?'

I had to know.

Friend: 'Naw - we ate that yesterday.'

I think that was a joke.

Me: 'Um. Where are the children?'

Friend: 'Petting the chickens.'

Well, that's OK, because cancerous chicken tumours and self-cannibalism aren't contagious, right? So I too went off to pet a chicken before dinner, a fine red hen that I coveted for my own. She was very soft and I felt as one with nature as I held her and covertly inspected her for strange growths.

Oh, and we also learned that you can put live chicks under a broody hen while she sleeps and she'll raise them as her own. If she doesn't kill them. Who knew?

OK, Sara probably knew.

So, you now know as much as I know about live chickens.

B is for Backpack

On Sunday we took a homeless person to breakfast. You can read about how we met Renee here, although please note that Fresh Start turned out to be uninterested in helping homeless people and she's no longer working there.

Renee is a nice person that bad things have happened to. Although she has been homeless for more than 9 years she's clean and neat and looks like any other resident of Walnut Creek - except for all the bags she has to carry around. An accident leading to nerve damage resulted in her being unable to work regular hours and despite her various volunteer activities and personal initiative nothing has ever resulted into a paid position or any substantial help.

In her own words, because she's not a druggie or illegal immigrant, there's no support system for her. Even her cleanliness is against her - when she goes to the local church for help, where she used to volunteer teaching computer basics until the recent service cuts in public transportation, they tell her they need to save resources for people who need it more.

Her own words have also gotten her into trouble. She has written passionate letters to directors of various charities and groups she has worked with, telling them how they're missing the boat on giving people what they really need. She criticized the local police for harassing her and got fired from her column. She's a vegetarian so soup kitchens don't work for her. Etc., etc., etc.

Still, as she tells her tale of one disappointment after another you find yourself wondering how people can be so unhelpful and uncaring.

At breakfast she nibbled toast and sipped tea, unable to eat more. She shared some details about her past and daily challenges, which were very hard to hear. For example, the social security agency recently declared her dead and has to restart the process on claiming the benefits she's already been fighting 13 years. She has no way of gathering the documentation she needs of employment history, bank accounts, etc., to complete her application. The lawyers she has contacted to help her navigate the process have all said that her case is too complex and refused to help.

You get the idea.

I felt pretty helpless. I mean, it's not like we can set her up in a condo and pay all her expenses or make someone hire her. And we can't give her back her health or change the social security administrative rules.

So we asked her what we could do and she told us that she needs underwear and toiletries as well as a new backpack, because the decrepit old computer bag she's carrying around now is on it's last legs and isn't big enough to hold everything, which means she has to carry several bags in addition to her heavy backpack.

That's why yesterday before work found me at Target carefully selecting light, servicable undergarments and toiletries (yes, people, I finally bought some new underwear, but not for me). And yesterday evening found Ralf and me at Sports Basement being consulted by a wonderful salesperson named Aaron on backpacks.

Aaron also has a homeless friend - I guess that's the new thing in this economy - and spent about an hour helping us find the optimum backpack for durability, lightweight, and compartments. When he found out why we were buying the backpack he also threw in several waterproof bags and gave us 20% off.

The point I'd like to make is that both compassion and lack of caring are contagious. You can't fix everything for everyone but sometimes there's something concrete that you can do to help. And you might find unexpected people pitching in to help you do it.

Thanks, Aaron.

A is for 'Are you kidding?'

I've decided to borrow the alphabet memoir idea from Charlotte (sort of, since this isn't a memoir), starting with the letter A.

I was driving home from a playdate yesterday when I spotted an older man (at least 60) holding up a sign that said, 'Obamacare is unconstitutional.'

Well, duh, Mr. Medicare, any policy that has not yet been passed into law is technincally unconstitutional. Although as Lawyer Mom pointed out this is not technically true. . .

But I bet you wouldn't like it too much if the tables were turned and the funds dried up on your socialist health care.

So, let me just say that I'm not a lawyer, nor am I particularly informed about the current health care debate. In fact, I'm one of those lucky people who has decent, albeit expensive, health insurance so I'm naturally skeptic of anything that will benefit others that I have to pay for. But I'm also a Democrat and I watched President Obama in a AARP Town Hall meeting and a couple of things he said made a lot of sense:

1. US health care costs are way more expensive than just about anywhere else, including where medical insurance is 'socialized' and supplemented with taxes. Hmmn.

2. US health care costs are going up at such a dramatic rate that pretty soon no one will be able to afford insurance and we'll all be in the same boat.

3. Uninsured people who can't afford to take care of themselves cost us all money when they show up in the emergency room.

*Note that although countries where there is only socialized medicine tend to have rotten health care, countries that have tried a hybrid of public and private (like Germany) offer very high quality health care. It's expensive for individuals and companies but the overall debt is much lower and in many cases the quality of care higher. In fact, sometimes a doctor will even take a culture or try alternative medicine before prescribing antibiotics instead of prescribing them for every cold. But if you need it, you get the full enchilada with x-rays, medicine, follow ups and time off from work. And for privately insured people, little or no waiting.

Clearly something needs to be done in the US to combat rising health care costs and at least the President is trying to tackle the issue while it can still be tackled gracefully, which we should have done with alternative energy a long time ago. I'm not sure he's going far enough if we really want to cut costs, however. For example, I'd like to see premiums based on overall health for one's age group, so if a 20 year old is an obese smoker they should pay more than a fit 20 year old marathon runner who eats lots of leafy greens.

I also wonder when someone will finally address the issue of triaged care. In other words, do you spend your money saving a child or keeping a 90 year old smoker on a breathing machine for two years?

I'm just saying.

But triage is a dirty word so I guess we'll just keep pretending that we can afford to give every single person unlimited health care without making anyone take responsibility for their health.

And anyone who says otherwise clearly wants to set up a bunch of death camps to turn old people into pies.

PS I'm looking forward to a 'death panel' skit from Tina Fey.

Thanks Hit40!

Hit40 recently awarded me one of her many blogging awards - thanks Hit40!

Apparently I don't have to do anything to earn this award. No list, no nothin'. It seems that my previous lovableness is enough.

To pass on this award I nominate all of you who regularly comment and make blogging fun. Those of you who are trying to increase the number of comments you get on your own blogs should definitely go suck up to these guys.

Ladyfi

Maven

Lawyer Mom

Kristina (I know, you don't do memes, but do I love your blog)

Domestically Challenged

Michele

Gracey

Bebe

Emily

Sara

Wendy

Patty

Patti

Debbie

Solipsist

Natalian

Charlotte

Naturelady

G (sorry you're last but you have the shortest name)

This is off the top of my head with no memory aids whatsoever so if I forgot anyone please feel free to appropriate this award for yourself. You know who you are. And I probably love your blog.

Small Town Sunday

Again it's Small Town Sunday at Wendy's. And again I got nothin'. Lint in the navel of bupkis. So I'm going for Small World Sunday. Get it?

Thanksgiving 2007, Los Angeles, Home. . .

Summertime and the men are stinky...

Sorry, that just popped into my head at the gym yesterday, where the unspoken rule is, Don't pick the stairmaster next to anyone with dark sweaty hair. Ah, summer. Time to answer tough, life-changing questions, like, 'Should I diet or buy long shirts?'

But it's small town Sunday again, courtesy of Wendy, and once again I'm digging out old vacation pictures. I actually lived in a Japanese small town for 2 years but that was before digital cameras. These picures are from our 2002 Japan vacation, when I was a gauche young girl with freckles, do-it-yourself bangs and one eyebrow.

Me and Takumi-chan

Japanese Barbeque

Mt. Fuji (Fuji-san)

Japanese Graveyard in Kyoto

Attack of the Deer in Nara
Shrine with a Symbol that Once Meant PeaceShibuya (or maybe Shinjuku) - Back to Civilization!

Cause She's Got. . . Personality

. . . and naturally blond hair and a sweet disposition and lots of money and and legs that go on forever. . .

OK that's actually someone else but I DO have personality because Gracie said so. Thank you, Gracie!

So, here's how it goes. I tell you seven personality traits of mine then tag seven of you to be queen for a day. You also get this lovely banner.

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time you already know everything about me. You know where I stand on politics, economy, gay marriage, non-gay marriage, television, education, books and parenting.

But do these things actually characterize me?

Well, yeah, they kind of do but I like to think there's more to me than my passionate activism and effortless parenting. For example:

1. I am an introvert. I know, you didn't see that coming at all. This doesn't mean that I cringe in the corner when someone talks to me, it just means that I recharge when I'm alone and expend energy when I'm with others. I'm also rubbish at small talk so I almost never strike up an acquaintance in the park or at the grocery store. And I rarely pick up the telephone.

2. I can spot trends. Give me a few data points and I can tell you what the possible outcomes are, with relative probabilities. I'm not like Data on Star Trek NG but I have very good instincts about large trends. Unfortunately I can't predict things like who will win the World Cup or which average looking B actors People Magazine will try to market as the 100 Most Beautiful People but you'll have a better chance guessing correctly yourself if you distance yourself from my guess.

3. I worry about things. For example, if you send someone a really funny email and they laugh so hard they choke on their lunch and die, is that manslaughter?

4. I talk to myself. I often have imaginary conversations with people in my head. Ralf makes fun of me when he catches me arguing with a colleague who isn't actually in the room. I am the star of the show that is my life and I direct on all the roles, write the script, design the costumes, manage the lighting, produce the sound track and give myself all the good lines. And I always get the last word.

5. When I was small I had a huge crush on Christopher Robin. Yes, he's a cartoon, but even today I think he's pretty cute.

6. I believe that inspiration is all around us. In addition to the many conversations directed by me that go on in my head (see previous point), I also communicate with something outside myself when I need a second opinion. Something bigger than me with way better ideas.

7. I am very visual. When I design software I see a pattern, although 'see' might not be the right word. When the design is done the pattern is almost complete. It has integrity. Patterns also help me tell if things are true, although knowing something isn't true is not the same as knowing the truth so it's not the big life changer you'd think it would be. Interestingly they've done study on frozen water that has been impressed with concentrated feelings of love and hate and the loved water forms the most beautiful, intricate patterns. Hated water loses its pattern. For more information see The Secret of Water, it's a kids' book.

Now I have to tag some of you and believe me, it's not easy because all of us have personality. That's why we blog, right, to have an outlet for all that extra personality.

I've decided to tag some fresh faces this time around as a thank you for dropping by, following this blog and exposing yourselves to my excess personality.

Shawna - Shawna is a student at UC Davis getting ready for a year abroad in Turkey. She is curious, open minded and a good person.

Unworthy - Anyone who calls themselves Unworthy gets my personality vote. Unworthy is a new blogger with one post so far so hopefully this will give her more to blog about. Not sure if you're stopping by regularly but if you see this, consider yourself tagged.

Wendy - Wendy was recently listed on Blogs of Note but I FOUND HER FIRST. Well, with about 70 other people until the Blogs of Note gig and then it was. . . erm. . . more. Her blog bursts with red neck (her own words) personality and she conveys a deep love of small town life that is very captivating.

Jen Maclean - I like Jen's blog. It kind of reminds me of my own, although it looks completely different and has a totally different focus. But every time I visit I find a unique recipe or a useful tip or a really beautiful picture and think, 'I could have posted that.'

Patti - If anyone has a great personality it's Patti, who just lost her hair from chemo and is totally rolling with it. She will probably make medical history, proving the link between positive attitude and healing. Go, Patti!

PattyP - Patty and I work together so I not only get to enjoy her well-written blog, I also get to read her memos and company updates. She's a very good writer and unlike me, she only posts when she has something to say.

Fiona - Fiona is an expat living in Switzerland and. . . liking it. The dot dot dot was because the Germans think the Swiss are a bit odd.

Cee - Cee is another new blogger who is doing a great job and deserves some bloggie love.

OK that's 8 but I couldn't decide.

Congratulations and let the personality dissection begin!

Small Town Sunday

It is again Small Town Sunday at Wendy's and as usual I have been a bit loose in my interpretation of the rules because I am not from a small town and don't spend much time in the Bavarian countryside.

So here is this week's offering:

Sleeping Kitty:

Baking Bread:

Old Friends:

Time Flies

The first picture is of me and Max (remember Max?), the second is of me and the girls.

Small Town Snapshot Sunday Part II

I found a couple more pictures from our 2007 Arizona vacation so I can participate once more in Wendy's Small Town Snapshot Sunday. Nothing captures that small town spirit like a buffalo at home on the range. Or maybe it's a cow. Whatever.

And here are some pictures from the hotel we stayed in, which was like staying with Robert Redford. Does that count?

On Awesomeness

Patti in Denmark recently tagged me in her Awesome post.

Patti is someone who rises to every occasion, including battling cancer. She is truly awesome, not just fake awesome like me, so you should check out her blog and get inspired by how she cheerfully deals with everything from health issues to finding reliable Danish repairmen.

Making a list of awesome things about me hasn't been easy. Once upon a time I thought I would be a hard-hitting environmental lawyer, a world-changing political economist, a physicist who would connect the dots between relativity and quantum theory, the inventor of the first successful artificial intelligence, a notorious character actress. . .

Then in college I got distracted by men and easy money (sorry, that came out wrong, what I meant is that I started taking classes with this guy I liked in an easier, more lucrative field) and smoothly transitioned into international affairs and business, which led into consulting and IT and ultimately a husband, a pet, a mortgage, two children and a Volvo.

Today I design software, work part time, pick up my kids at 3PM and fire up my computer again at 8PM. I get excited about a glass of wine with dinner or an old-fashioned TV show with real actors and a plot.

And for the most part it's usually pretty awesome, but not, like, list awesome, unless you count things like, 'I can do five loads of laundry and make dinner for two picky kids and a husband while writing a detailed design specification for compensation budgeting.'

Are you still awake?

Anyway, after many false starts, here's my list of 7 awesome things about me, followed by a list of 7 awesome people who are now tagged.

1. I can predict the future. Didn’t I tell you I’d be in the Earth Day video? And then I was. Spooky, huh?

2. I make things happen. I saved Chuck, didn’t I? And as you know, I’ve been working to get reasonable environmental legislation passed so we don’t turn the Earth into Venus. Last Friday the House Energy and Commerce Committee reported out a bill to reduce America's global warming pollution by 83% by 2050. Now we just have to get it through the House and Senate - you can help by signing the Sierra Club petition here.

3. I always admit when I am wrong. Most people don’t realize this about me because I’m hardly ever wrong so I wanted to bring this to your attention.

4. I drive a mean go cart. Enough said. 5. I am naturally blond. 6. I totally rock at fake guitar. 7. I am a cool mom. Not to my own kids, of course, but to other people’s kids. Unfortunately I have no photographic evidence of this so you'll just have to take my word for it.

And as an added bonus, I don't take myself too seriously.

Now I have to tag seven other awesome people. It’s hard to keep it to seven but for a change I’m going to try to follow the rules.

1. Kristina – You definitely get the ‘I wanna party with you, cowboy’ award. Kristina makes me want to be a better blogger.

2. The Dental Maven – The Maven has a really cool blogging niche and is married to a neurobiologist, which is really awesome.

3. Lawyer Mom – Lawyer Mom has devoted her life to public service. For example, thanks to her I don’t have to read the Economist myself, for which I am truly grateful because it's gloomy.

4. Debbie – Debbie is a good human being who manages to be very funny but never at someone else’s expense. Unless they deserve it.

5. Sara – Sara is living a country life most of us can only dream of. She captures bees and feeds baby cows with bottles. If you send your kids to her for a playdate, there will be horseback riding and canoeing. I wish she lived in Bavaria, we have lots of great countryside here.

6. Bebe – Bebe has five kids and finds time to blog. That alone clearly makes her awesome but she also has a great outlook on life. Of course, her recent vacation-o-rama in Greece and Italy without kids probably didn’t hurt the attitude.

7. Charlotte – A blogger community builder and spiritual leader who lives in a foreign land, raises two kids and a husband and just completed the first draft of her book. She spends most of her time trying to stay on top of her many blogging awards.