Clarkdale, AZ is less than a booming metropolis. It is more or less a neighborhood in Cottonwood which appears to surround it on three sides. As both are small, very small, there is only one newspaper which serves the area and that only comes out three times a week. The Verde Valley Independent knows news is hard to come by, so they've given up on filling the rag daily and berate us with fluff and weekly happenings as little as possible.
Today, on page 2 (coveted for it of its use of color) two photos and a caption were prominently displayed in a quarter page sidebar titled "The Drive-Through is the Other Direction." Already we are off to a roaring start. Enthralled? Let's read on.
"An older woman drove into the Wells Fargo bank Wednesday...literally. The woman entered a parking area, but apparently missed the brake on the vehicle while trying to avoid another vehicle. [I am assuming it was parked] Her 1979 Chevrolet slammed into some landscaping and punched a hole into the bank exterior wall with her vehicle. The 89-year-old driver was not seriously hurt in the accident but she suffered a bump on the head and was examined at the Verde Valley Medical Center as a precaution."
Let me be the first to commend Philip Wright on his thorough investigative journalism and excessive use of the word "vehicle." Never have I read anything quite like it.
The best thing about this is that it is not an isolated incident. You may be aware that Arizona is a great place to retire. It is hot all the time, so you won't feel cold even when your circulation is shot. And this is only one of the perks. "Older" people from everywhere come down here to glue their noses to their steering wheels and drive 20 miles an hour no matter the posted speed limit. And they run into things at least once every two months.
Memorably last fall, a man who was suffering from chest pains drove into the side of his doctor's office. I'll give you three guesses as to why...
Friday, July 25, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
public enemy No. 1 & recommendations
I hate insurance. It is without a doubt my least favorite adult thing. And that includes cleaning bathrooms and paying rent and balancing checkbooks...
Insurance companies have so many ways of getting around actually covering you, especially when you really need it. Even talking to countless people and sorting through forests worth of documents, dates never match up, coverage is not clear, and the nice women at the other end are never helpful enough. I'm smarter than the average bear and it seriously pisses me off that I can't figure this crap out.
I understood all the wording in the legal paperwork I've filled out lately, why then, does insurance still bask in its shroud of mystery? Grrr... (all I can do is cross my fingers and not get hurt doing anything)
On a more positive note...
Those who know me, have experienced my love of makeup. I don't know what it is, but I am enamored of basically the whole industry.
For those of you who know me, you are also aware that I wear much less of it than others who proclaim to love the stuff. I don't even wear it to work every day. I am as erratic in my donning of makeup as insurance is in their coverage.
My friend Danielle once said that I approach makeup as I do most everything else in my life. I walk down the aisle and if it catches my eye I buy it and wear it. It was a disjointed and schizophrenic road to finding things I liked and looked good in.
I've come to accept that I have a little Drag Queen in me and it is expressed through my love of garish eyeshadow. (moment of relish) But I've also come to accept that it is not always appropriate to display my affection outwardly... sigh.
It must be said, however, that nothing brings out my inner diva like mascara. I am rarely seen without it. I have probably gone through literally a hundred tubes of it since middle school. Back then, it was colored; silver, orange, green. Delicious.
Now my mascara means business. The blacker the better. And my new favorite for length, definition, volume, and (shockingly) overall lash health is Smashbox Bionic Mascara. So named because it claims to have ionic technology. Something about positively charged ions in the mascara and negatively charged ions in the friction of applying it. Opposites attract and voila, fierce. All I know is my lashes have never looked better and I highly recommend it to everyone.
Insurance companies have so many ways of getting around actually covering you, especially when you really need it. Even talking to countless people and sorting through forests worth of documents, dates never match up, coverage is not clear, and the nice women at the other end are never helpful enough. I'm smarter than the average bear and it seriously pisses me off that I can't figure this crap out.
I understood all the wording in the legal paperwork I've filled out lately, why then, does insurance still bask in its shroud of mystery? Grrr... (all I can do is cross my fingers and not get hurt doing anything)
On a more positive note...Those who know me, have experienced my love of makeup. I don't know what it is, but I am enamored of basically the whole industry.
For those of you who know me, you are also aware that I wear much less of it than others who proclaim to love the stuff. I don't even wear it to work every day. I am as erratic in my donning of makeup as insurance is in their coverage.
My friend Danielle once said that I approach makeup as I do most everything else in my life. I walk down the aisle and if it catches my eye I buy it and wear it. It was a disjointed and schizophrenic road to finding things I liked and looked good in.
I've come to accept that I have a little Drag Queen in me and it is expressed through my love of garish eyeshadow. (moment of relish) But I've also come to accept that it is not always appropriate to display my affection outwardly... sigh.
It must be said, however, that nothing brings out my inner diva like mascara. I am rarely seen without it. I have probably gone through literally a hundred tubes of it since middle school. Back then, it was colored; silver, orange, green. Delicious.
Now my mascara means business. The blacker the better. And my new favorite for length, definition, volume, and (shockingly) overall lash health is Smashbox Bionic Mascara. So named because it claims to have ionic technology. Something about positively charged ions in the mascara and negatively charged ions in the friction of applying it. Opposites attract and voila, fierce. All I know is my lashes have never looked better and I highly recommend it to everyone.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Not a pretty girl
Some of my CDs are gone. Left in Kansas City, and I am wondering whether it is worth it to try to get them back.
I have tried to keep moving forward and most of the time I do well, but the little things still trip me up. I don't have my things in any semblance of order and I don't like that. For those of you who've seen some of my other rooms, I know you're finding it hard to believe I am hating having no order, but this is different. Every time I try to find something new, it is at least a 15 minute ordeal. Some days I just want to throw it all out into the middle of the desert and start from scratch.
That's basically what I've been trying to do with myself. Unfortunately it isn't that easy. There is a whole world of people out there whom I love and many of them feel the same about me. It makes me feel so safe. I could go to any region of the country and find friendly faces, homes, sofas. I love it.
If it wasn't for my family, I'd probably be having a great time here. I'm not miserable by any counts, but they are expecting things from me again. Favors, repayment of sorts. I don't want to be indebted to them any more that I have to be because I know they'll call it in at an inconvenient time. I love my family, but I love them better from a distance. It's not like I only see them as they truly are when I'm here, but I definitely only experience them as they truly are when they're around. I don't fit into the dynamic anymore. I've been gone for six years.
I really want to take this opportunity, situation, whatever to do something for myself. I've not made many selfish decisions and I'm relishing the thought of saying "thanks, but no thanks" to the people that love me best, but know me least at this point in my life. Now all I have to do, is raise enough money for them to take me seriously when I do.
I have tried to keep moving forward and most of the time I do well, but the little things still trip me up. I don't have my things in any semblance of order and I don't like that. For those of you who've seen some of my other rooms, I know you're finding it hard to believe I am hating having no order, but this is different. Every time I try to find something new, it is at least a 15 minute ordeal. Some days I just want to throw it all out into the middle of the desert and start from scratch.
That's basically what I've been trying to do with myself. Unfortunately it isn't that easy. There is a whole world of people out there whom I love and many of them feel the same about me. It makes me feel so safe. I could go to any region of the country and find friendly faces, homes, sofas. I love it.
If it wasn't for my family, I'd probably be having a great time here. I'm not miserable by any counts, but they are expecting things from me again. Favors, repayment of sorts. I don't want to be indebted to them any more that I have to be because I know they'll call it in at an inconvenient time. I love my family, but I love them better from a distance. It's not like I only see them as they truly are when I'm here, but I definitely only experience them as they truly are when they're around. I don't fit into the dynamic anymore. I've been gone for six years.
I really want to take this opportunity, situation, whatever to do something for myself. I've not made many selfish decisions and I'm relishing the thought of saying "thanks, but no thanks" to the people that love me best, but know me least at this point in my life. Now all I have to do, is raise enough money for them to take me seriously when I do.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
This book will change your life
Last weekend in Phoenix, I was in a Borders near the hotel we stayed at. Pop and I were talking about the Anthony Bourdane book, Kitchen Confidential. My brother, being someone of sardonic and pedantic thinking, seemed like the type of person who would love the book. Trouble is, Bourdane's personality had permanently turned Sam off to him and we knew we'd never get him to read the book no matter what goodies it contained.
As Pop wandered over to cooking magazines and I circled through fiction, checking for A Heartbreaking Work of a Staggering Genius (everyone says it's his best, but I don't own it because I can't find it anywhere but I've read the others) a guy about my age was sitting paging through an epic volume of Chekhov. (I know right) As I rounded the corner from E to C, he stood up and said "I couldn't help but overhear that you were looking for a book for someone." I explained that we thought my brother would like the Bourdane, but that we'd never convince him to read it.
He unloaded the volume of Chekhov and said, "Well, I've got a great book you should read." He led me to the slasher mystery section and picked up a mass market copy of Fools Die by Mario Puzo (same guy who wrote The Godfather) "I just have to show you this. You can do whatever you want with it, I don't care. But if you read it, this book will change your life" And with that, I thanked him and he walked away.
The book ran for $7.99 and it was nice and thick. I figured, what the hell, I've got all the time in the world to read right now. And if I don't like it, Oh well. I'll only be out 8 and some change.
Later, relaying the story to a friend, she asked if he'd left his phone number in it. No dice. And as I told her, even if he had, I wouldn't have called it.
I went back to the hotel and started reading. The intro was interesting, literally the author pitching the book to the reader. It intrigued me, so I read on. As I read further into the book, I was surprised by how tight the writing was. Solid story, good vocabulary, conversational tone, interesting perspective switch between characters, fast paced without being expendable, some good lines to describe life and love... enjoyable.
I read on the way home from vacation and continued reading when I got there. It was engaging enough that I could read through a cooking show, but not so gripping that I couldn't put it down when I needed.
The funny thing is, things did begin changing. OK, they had begun to change a while ago, I'll give you that. But really truly, there are things at work here that are bigger than I am. Good things are happening and I just have to figure out what I want and what I am going to do.
I am going to bed happy tonight and I don't mind giving a little credit to the book.
As Pop wandered over to cooking magazines and I circled through fiction, checking for A Heartbreaking Work of a Staggering Genius (everyone says it's his best, but I don't own it because I can't find it anywhere but I've read the others) a guy about my age was sitting paging through an epic volume of Chekhov. (I know right) As I rounded the corner from E to C, he stood up and said "I couldn't help but overhear that you were looking for a book for someone." I explained that we thought my brother would like the Bourdane, but that we'd never convince him to read it.
He unloaded the volume of Chekhov and said, "Well, I've got a great book you should read." He led me to the slasher mystery section and picked up a mass market copy of Fools Die by Mario Puzo (same guy who wrote The Godfather) "I just have to show you this. You can do whatever you want with it, I don't care. But if you read it, this book will change your life" And with that, I thanked him and he walked away.
The book ran for $7.99 and it was nice and thick. I figured, what the hell, I've got all the time in the world to read right now. And if I don't like it, Oh well. I'll only be out 8 and some change.
Later, relaying the story to a friend, she asked if he'd left his phone number in it. No dice. And as I told her, even if he had, I wouldn't have called it.
I went back to the hotel and started reading. The intro was interesting, literally the author pitching the book to the reader. It intrigued me, so I read on. As I read further into the book, I was surprised by how tight the writing was. Solid story, good vocabulary, conversational tone, interesting perspective switch between characters, fast paced without being expendable, some good lines to describe life and love... enjoyable.
I read on the way home from vacation and continued reading when I got there. It was engaging enough that I could read through a cooking show, but not so gripping that I couldn't put it down when I needed.
The funny thing is, things did begin changing. OK, they had begun to change a while ago, I'll give you that. But really truly, there are things at work here that are bigger than I am. Good things are happening and I just have to figure out what I want and what I am going to do.
I am going to bed happy tonight and I don't mind giving a little credit to the book.
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