Happy Fourth of July!

So here's how we'll be commemorating our country's independence:

• nearly 16 pounds of ribs
• hot dogs, salmon burgers and all the buns that accompany them
• one giant watermelon
• assorted soft drinks, juices, bottled water, wine and bottled sangria
• chips and dips
• coleslaw fixings
• veggie platter
• a variety of poppers and sparklers (none of the heavier stuff because our city doesn't allow them and we're wusses)
• many, many friends in our tiny back yard

Do you think we're doing enough to help stimulate the economy?

Hope you all have a great Fourth of July weekend. Stay safe and don't lose any fingers!

And to Seattleites who are thinking of hitting Gas Works park for the fireworks show, don't say I didn't warn you: Click here and bring your bathroom supplies.

R.I.P. Famous and Not-So-Famous

TV Sidekick Extraordinaire


Blond Bombshell Turned Serious Actress

Top-Selling Singer and Pop Icon

Super-Volume Pitchman

I understand that celebrities and public figures are people, too. They are someone's child, sibling, friend, lover and sometimes parent. Many times, they also represent a crucial period of our lives, so not only do we mourn their passing, we mourn the passing of a key part of ourselves or cherished memories we wish we could revive. I totally get that.

I only hope that we don't get so busy mourning famous people that we forget about others who have made a difference but didn't get as much fanfare. People like Neda Soltani, who became well-known only after being shot and killed in the streets of Tehran while marching for democracy. People like Joseph Cannon Houghteling, a political and environmental activist who devoted his life to public service. People like Dr. Jerri Nielsen FitzGerald, the doctor who diagnosed and treated her own breast cancer before a dramatic rescue at the South Pole in 1999, and who went on to spend her last decade of life speaking out about her cancer and working as a roving ER doctor at hospitals all over the Northeast.

They died recently, too. They may not have sang the songs from my formative years and they may not bring back memories of a more innocent time for me, but they left their marks on this world and I mourn them.

Leave the Flying to the Birds

Just got back from a really fun two-day business trip in Tennessee and North Carolina. Met some very interesting people, learned a lot about my client product and ate much catered-event food that was surprisingly delicious for catered-event food. Part of my trip included taking a scenic drive from Knoxville to Asheville and then through the beautiful winding Blue Ridge mountain roads of North Carolina. (I must Google "Pigsah," which was one of the areas we drove through and whose name caused us much mirth.)

The only part I didn't enjoy was the flying. The last time I traveled for business was before all the security precautions resulting from 9/11, that blissfully innocent era when you (and your unticketed companions) could get through security an hour before your scheduled flight with your shoes intact and bringing through as many liquid as you could carry, not just the quart-sized bag of 3 oz.-or-less containers.

Business flying just sucks. It sucks when you're flying on vacation, too, but at least you check your bags for that and you'll be at your destination much longer so you can kind of justify the inconvenience at the airport. Yes, yes, I know it's all for the common good of homeland security and I appreciate not having a terrorist on my flight. But when you're supposed to be on a two-day business trip and it takes you three days (nearly four if I hadn't miraculously been able to snag a last-minute vacant seat in Asheville, and that's a different story altogether) with all the flying and connecting and security precautions and what-not, well ... Let's just say I am very thankful for phone and Web conferences. It's great to go on location and learn things first-hand, but there's a lot to be said for being able to attend meetings while sitting comfortably in your office chair with a cup of coffee and having all the legroom you want.

Post-note: I googled "Pigsah" and apparently it's not Pig-sah but Pis-gah. It's a large national forest featuring many waterfalls and hiking trails and there is a local college institute with the same name that helps provides environmental education for students grades K-12 using the forest as a laboratory. I (and my co-driver) could have sworn the signs said Pig-sah. Now I feel bad that we giggled. Boo to me.

Time to Make the Donuts

I've been away for a while and I'm sure my three blog visitors probably missed me a bit. I would like to say that I've been traveling the world but, truth be told, I have a new part-time job that has taken me away from my Internet recreation world.

I'm not complaining because I really like my new job, working about 20 hours a week as a media coordinator for a small consulting firm. Basically what I do is try to get our clients' activities out to the media and try to convince publications, TV/radio stations and Web sites to post the info. It's interesting work and I totally get to use my degree and past journalism/PR background. I also like the people I work with and they are very flexible about letting me work from home. Considering the economy right now, the fact that I didn't even apply for this job (it was word-of-mouth) is mind-boggling.

There is one complaint I have to make and then I will shut up. Having been a stay-at-home mom and infrequent substitute schools staffer for the past few years, working 20 hours a week is kind of hard. Yeah, I know that people working 40+ hours (which I used to do) want to punch people like me in the mouth when they hear that type of complaint. The challenge is balancing my work hours with my second job, which is being a mom to two active young kids. This week, between PTA and band concert and ballet recital rehearsals, I rarely had an evening free.

Now that I've gotten that little whine out of my system, let me just say that I'm quite pleased to be working again and stimulating different parts of my brain. Oh, yeah, and getting paid is nice, too.

(The photo of the gnome above has nothing to do with my new job. My friend Jennifer spotted it while taking a walk and it made her think of me so she took its picture. That's right, the sight of a squatting gnome with its pants pulled down reminded her of me. Are my friends great or what?)

Swine Flu This

I am sick of hearing about the swine flu.

There, I've said it. While I certainly don't discount its seriousness and the suffering of those who've contracted it, I have been hearing about it nearly 24/7 for the past few days. And I don't even watch cable news.

A kid from the morning bus stop is home sick this week because of a stomach bug, according to her mom. "Have you heard about the swine flu?" whisper the other grownups. Today, while helping a friend get ready for a garage sale, a child sneezes. "Wash your hands!" someone calls out. I certainly hope all that tree pollen that covered my parked vehicle this afternoon doesn't turn out to contain life-threatening airborne pathogens.

How about if we stay on top of the swine flu updates no more than three times a day and then spend some time discussing something else? I am happy to discuss any other topic: the economy, vasectomies, movies, religion, even other current events (for they do exist). Public hysteria is just so tiring.

Mrs. Puff, I Presume

I'm happy to report that my surgery for dental implants went fine and I'm recovering with very little discomfort. The only drawback is that my post-op meds make me tired and lightheaded, which sucks when you have the rare sunny weekend we had. But such is life. (See, I'm being zen!)

Disappointingly, I have experienced no black, hairy tongue from my penicillin. However, a different side effect is that my jaw is still a little swollen, making my regular moon-pie face look even bigger. Every time I look in the mirror, I think of Mrs. Puff, a puffer fish character from SpongeBob SquarePants, one of my kid's favorite TV shows.

Then the theme song begins in my mind: "Ohhhhh ... Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? ...."

I am easily amused, but you knew that.

Black, Hairy Tongue

If you should see someone sporting a black, hairy tongue anytime soon, come up and say hello. It might be me.

The story: I am scheduled to have two dental implants put in this week. Right now I am missing two molars due a very complicated medical condition known as "bad teeth," so my oral surgeon will be placing two metal screws (i.e. dental implants) inside my jaw. Feel free to insert your own "loose-screw" jokes here.

The surrounding bones will form a bond with the implants and, once that process is done in a few months, my family dentist will add a post and crown on top of it. Then -- voila! -- I shall have teeth again, which means I won't have to learn to play the banjo or start producing moonshine in my back yard.

Medical advances continue to amaze me and, as someone with bad teeth AND gums, I appreciate the fact that I live in a country where I have access to these advances, as opposed to some third-world country. Or England.

But back to the black, hairy tongue. This is actually listed as a potential side effect for the penicillin I will need to take after the surgery to ward off infection. I am one of those people who read the side effect warnings on all drugs and usually scan through them automatically, but I do believe this may be the first time the phrase "black, hairy tongue" has come across my radar.

I'm kind of intrigued. Images of Cousin Itt from the Addams Family series come to mind. I'll keep you posted if I start to resemble him. Or her. Or it.