At the Foot of the Stairs

But it's live ...

KatieK told me I could have this superhero!!! How great is that??? Here are some of the taglines I've been writing down in my little notebook: What do you think? There is no blog. Ceci n'est-ce pas une blog. This is not the blog you're looking for. Full of bull from morning til night. (and I am a Taurus, get it?) Cuter Than a Hedgehog. Dust In Its Infinite Lightness. This is not a blog. It's not just for breakfast anymore. The blog you don't take home to mother. Putting the "ma" back in Jenorama. Putting the "no" back in Jenorama. Putting the "or" back in Jenorama. More Jen than you can shake a stick at. All Jen. All the Time. More Jen than you can Rama. Scaring young children since 1993. Where young boys are surgically removed. The pussy next door. Ain't No Time To Blog Ain't Too Proud to Blog. Reheat on high 1 minute.

src="http://www.bbspot.com/Images/News_Features/2003/01/os_quiz/redhat.jpg" width="300" height="90" border="0" alt="You are Red Hat Linux. You're tops among your peers, but still get no respect from them. It's all right with you. You have your sights set higher."> Which OS are You?

When I was in high school, we had this little old, frail, bent over English teacher who was widely feared. Mrs. Fuller. She was older than God, and I think she has passed away by now. She was a lovely woman, and introduced me to more great literature than I was exposed to in college and graduate school combined. Not that her lecture skills were great: her idea of lecturing was dictating notes while she made her dinner. Then, she would play them for us. And she made us write. Boy, did she make us write: a 5 page paper every three weeks on a book read outside of class. That was in addition to Lalich's book review and research paper. Five papers, typed on a typewriter, when you are 15 years old, every nine weeks. If that doesn't make or break you, I don't know what will. I was thinking of Mrs. Fuller today because she always used to call Tuesday Dumb Little Tuesday. She couldn't see that it had any value in the week. Monday you dread. Wednesday is hump day. Th...

From : A VOCATION OF UNHAPPINESS "Writing is considered a profession, and I don't think it is a profession. I think that everyone who does not need to be a writer, who thinks he can do something else, ought to do something else. Writing is not a profession but a vocation of unhappiness. I don't think an artist can ever be happy." --Georges Simenon (1903-1985) (Borrowed, with thanks, from Collected Miscellany )

Well, as you know, I am taking the big leap into the .com-o-sphere of blogging. I am now in the queue for my design (and this will be four weeks away, in all likelihood), and starting to think about it. And I am feeling a little blogger-brain dead today after my pitiful heroic installation efforts yesterday. The first thing I want is a great tag line, and to sort of build my site around that. I sent an email to my designer Christina (and my techie is Christine) yesterday, giving her the URL of some of my favorite designs from Moxie , and noting themes among them: color=good no whitespace graphic=good possibly the idea of a jenorama superhero? plug-ins=good Now, maybe I should be keeping my design top secret. I am not that clever, nor that close-lipped. I am asking for help, please. Let's start with the tag-line. Do you have any great taglines dancing around that you can part with?

Well. I went ahead and picked out the license I wanted from Movable Type (MT) I contacted blogomania about the package I wanted for web hosting, and the domain name I want (and now own, but which is not yet resolved, so it will keep, though duh, what could it be?). And so this morning, I had the information about my hosting, and decided to follow the Installation Instructions for MT. Now. I have a little bit of experience writing instructions. Helllllooooo. And I do believe that even the inexperienced person could probably figure out how to do this with a simple glossary. Like: what is a cgi directory? And how does one create one? Instead of just a direction such as: Create a cgi Directory for your blah blah blah. Uh, no. So, I uploaded for over an hour, every single thing involved with MT, and turns out, probably uploaded all of it to the wrong place-- I have no clue what I am doing. I am eyeing TypePad now, but I just bought a domain name and hosting, so, dammit, I am going to use th...

I do not know why I asked Dereck last night whether he wanted to watch a movie. Except that I must have forgotten about my Friday night coma. This past week has been particularly stressful for several reasons, none of which I can blog about . My blood pressure was even up. Which means I have to start exercising again. Which will also make the stress less stressful. Sigh. Sam is at his party, and I ended up going to the Huffalump movie with the younger pups. I will pick up Sam, have him pack his stuff and hang out a bit, then take him onward to his next party. Hopefully this evening, I will be able to stay awake past 8:00 p.m. And resist the pervasive feeling that I should be doing something else with my weekend.

I deleted this list because I realized Lucy was right.

Sam has a friend over. I was picking him up at the Presbytarian Church after school (they love that program, all of them, and now I do too) and I saw a familiar mother. "I know I know you, and I know I like you, but who are you?" I asked her. She told me we had met at a wine tasting (well, that explains it-- just kidding, Dad, I only had one glass!). Then we talked about our sons, same age, same class, and how the kids at his school (even smaller and more rural than ours) make fun of him because he wants to be a magician (Robin, he takes classes from Michael!) and he is sensitive and into D and D. I said, "Does he want to come over to play on Friday night? Sam: "We can play Halo 2 which is rated M for Maturity because of the violence and obscenities, but if you think that swearing is bad, you should read the book." Me: "Boy, Sam, you just make me sound like a better mother with every word." Sam: "Oh, sorry, Mom." Well, I don't know whet...

When I saw this article this morning, I felt like I was in touch with the Tao. I haven't actually read all of it yet, because it is long, and because I had just written about the subject (and gotten fabulous responses from y'all). But I did feel smug. Blogger has been incredibly slowwwwww the past few days, causing me once again to contemplate spreading my baby blogger wings and getting a blog I have to pay for. All of ye out there with .com addresses, what are the advantages, what are the features, how do I do it, what will it cost me, and will my readers follow me if I become jenorama.com? Other thoughts rumbling around: Should I get an iPod? Which one? How much longer can I hold out before getting one? My cell phone is still hanging in here, but it is dying in slow, painful increments. What happens if I get an iPod, and then I have to replace my cell phone? Three little boys will need braces. And then college. I should never spend money on myself again. Shoul...

Thank you all for your answers, and your stunning honesty. I think you all said it very very well. Anonymous Mom, thank you so much for sharing-- it makes my own response easier to give. And I love what you said about the continuum-- that is so true. Before my response, I will explain that "happy mothers" is a term that my friend and I coined long ago to describe the women we know who are perfectly happy with motherhood, who never complain about how hard it is, or indicate that it is hard. These are the mothers, and I do know some, who say to me, "I cannot imagine how hard it must be for you not to be with your children all the time[because you are divorced]. I could never do that." I think they are on crack. I tell everybody that they should have an ex-husband to take the kids on the weekend, every other week. It should be a law or something. So, here is my response. Well. Since you asked... I think the happy mothers are all lying. Why? Because books, the me...

Last night, Dereck came home from the grocery store and I said, "Where are the cookies?" Which, of course, had not been on his list. He said, "We have cookies in the cabinet." I kissed him sweetly and then said, slightly menacingly, "You. Should. Never. Come. Home. Without. Cookies."

Do you think the majority of mothers really do think motherhood is wonderful and kids are great, etc, and it's just a small minority who think IT'S SO HARD? Or are the happy mothers all lying, and if so, why? A friend of mine raised that question with me today. It started when she mentioned that if anyone had told her about the sleep deprivation involved with parenting, she would have rethought it, and did that make her a bad mother/person? I said of course not, and sent her some Dooce and Yvonne . Then she sent me that question, up there in bold. Discuss. I will post my response after y'all have had some time to chew it over, unless there is a ruckus and demands that I post my response first.

You scored as Sensible Flats . You are Sensible Flats. Practical and comfort-oriented, you'd rather go through life without the pain of a pulled arch. Still, you might want to walk on the wild side a litte more. Sensible Flats 70% Quirky Shoes 63% Flip-Flops 40% Classic Pumps 33% Sexy Heels 17% What Kind of Shoes Are You? created with QuizFarm.com Will Kathy think I am a heel for stealing this? I am waiting for Dereck to bring me some eye drops. One of our meeting rooms is like a sauna and my eyes just freaked out. It's like I am looking through a moving kaleidoscope. It is starting to calm down now. I don't have a headache. Nothing hurts. No numbness I am typing, so I wouldn't say my vision is obstructed I am not confused (not more so than usual, anyway). But you better bet I looked up stroke symptoms right away-- after last year , I am so not messing around with this crap. Note to self: The tap water in the kitchen at work does not do wonders at reh...

I am really getting into this whole greeting card thing. It is so awesome writing cards to people again. I used to have quite a few correspondents, and I used to know what it was like to get an actual letter in the actual mail. Just writing them is fun. I was writing out another card tonight to someone who lives in my town, but I don't see her often. And I will preserve her anonymity because this way, the card will be more of a surprise. She does not read my blog. But people she knows do. And so, I don't feel the need to share who she is. But it occurred to me that I could say things to her in a card that I couldn't say in a casual conversation. I used to really enjoy going to parties, going out to the bar. And I used to be able to carry on a conversation with just anyone. And for awhile, during my divorce, there was always some new story, some new update to share. And then things settled down, and I thought, "Well, I must have just gotten a boring life." But toni...

I have discovered who Dooce is. Because I went to her blog and read it. Well, not all of it. But enough to get a pretty good idea. I am so embarrassed. I have jumped on the Dooce bandwagon. On two separate occasions while reading her archives, I have laughed so hard, I nearly threw up. Literally. I had to get out of my chair, coughing, sputtering and gagging with laughter, and walk around and breathe. I sent Karl there yesterday to read it, and it was lost on him (he is not a parent), so maybe Dooce is not for everyone. That having said, I feel like a dork for not knowing who the infamous Dooce was before now. I doubt her blog will become a regular read (once I've dispensed with the funny archives and the initial curiosity) because she is already so famous, there is no chance of a tete a tete with her, but dang, that woman is funny. I should say, too, that her honesty in the face of depression is simply raw. It is simply painful to read. I can be a very honest person, but she...

Yesterday was a pleasant enough day, but not unlike many others ( which is a good thing ). We had a nice dinner out, and the major difference was that we exchanged small gifts, which we do not usually do. But both of us came out of relationships in which Valentine's Day was more like a massacre than anything else, so the mere acknowledgement of it and simple enjoyment of it is a huge difference in my life. I did a wee bit more running around than I usually do: somebody's electric razor broke last week, so they asked if they could have a new one for Valentine's Day. I felt bad about complying. This was not fun or romantic! But he sure did seem to like having it, so maybe I was wrong. I decided to go to the Hallmark store for my card, not having time to make a card because I procrastinated too much, and while I was there, I decided to buy just a big batch of cards and send them to people because it's been ages since I sent anything through the regular mail. And you k...

Well, I wish I had a wonderful and witty Sunday post, but I don't. It's been just a regular weekend with les enfants. I stayed up way too late Friday night because I unexpectedly had a group of chatters in my chat room (hurray!) and I have paid for it all weekend. Yesterday, an unmemorable morning (meaning that it was probably spent drinking coffee and reading the tabloids), I took the children to see Racing Stripes with some friends. I had no idea what it was about, or whether or not it was animated. I loved it. It is a movie about a Zebra who wants to be a race horse. It is not animated. It had me snuffling at the end. During the movie, at one point Christian asked me to check him for a fever. Nope. I asked him, little squirmy one, if he had to use the bathroom and he responded by nodding and bouncing up, so I led him out of the dark theater, and out into the hallway where he promptly threw up all of his popcorn and Sprite. I hurried him to the bathroom, got a re-fill of Spri...

Yes, you. My blog says there are between four and five of you here right now. Let's go to the chatroom!

Go here if you want to play. Z 1) I started reading Z when I was seriously thinking about converting to Judaism, and then fell off a bit when I wasn't-- I think I was embarrassed. But we have found each other again (well, I don't think she ever lost me), and all is bliss. Z also has a son with special abilities, and she has a lot more courage and zing on her blog than I do. You think I have wonder woman boots? This woman has spurs coming out of hers. 2) Song: The Theme song to the TV show Survivor 3) Tank Girl 4) Nails. As in tough as. Jay 1) You had one blog. Then, just like Lewis Caroll's snark, it vanished one day: "In the midst of the word he was trying to say/ in the midst of his laughter and glee/ he softly and silently vanished away/for the snark was a boojum, you see." (And yes, I did that from memory, thank you very much). You write for your LIVING, so you are a hero of sorts. And, more importantly, you like Dr. Pepper. 2) Song: Ode to Joy 3) Bruce Wil...

Who is Dooce? Why should I care? Did Dooce get a book deal? Why should I care?

Today, a friend of mine and I were both having frustrating mornings for different reasons, and she had left her lunch at home, and did not have her car nor her house keys, so I swung down to get her and took her to our favorite coffeeshop for take out salads, brownies, and a bitch fest. At the end, I was calmer, and had laughed a lot, and we got to the topic of blogging (I won't go into how), and she just started laughing again and said, "This is on the worldwide web, right?" I nodded. "So, you are basically inviting complete and total strangers to make nasty comments to you, right?" I just nodded and laughed. I have been really fortunate to have escaped that so far. I think you are either a blogger or you aren't. Actually, I just got off the phone with her, and she had sent me a longer email asking me about blogging. She has never seen a blog. So, I gave her some blogs to check out (not mine) : Kathy , Keri , Tom , and Bill and Stacey . She had the im...

Kathy Howe 1) We met through blogging, so we haven't actually met, but I do know what you look like (unless you have cut your hair again). And I would say that even while we share one brain about certain things and have a great deal in common, that the singlemost thing I think of when I think of you is how much you make me laugh, and how I have come to read your blog for that. Unless you are making me cry, but you know what I mean. You are a wicked funny woman. 2) Copacabana, by Barry Manilow, and you know why. 3) Celebrity? You are tall and thin... and I bet you could kick some real ass. So, I'm gonna have to go with Uma. You are even single and have children the same gender as Uma. 4) Kazoofus!

I got this from Donna at Socamom. It seems like a cool thing to do. For more information you can stop by The Zero Boss . For this Blogging for Books, write a blog entry (2,000 words or less, please) about a time when you took a risk in your life on someone or something - a new romance, a new career, a new home, etc. Were you successful beyond your wildest dreams - or did you crash and burn? It was Friday December 29, 2001. I remember the day not only because it was the day I took the biggest risk of my entire life, but also because it was my youngest child’s third birthday. In fact, until I found pictures of us celebrating his birthday earlier that week, for years, I didn’t think I had done anything to celebrate my Tommy’s birthday that year, and despite everything I had done on his behalf that day, I felt oddly negligent and depressed about it. That morning, my husband Mark took our seven-year-old son Sam, my oldest son, and drove to visit family in Ohio. I stood at t...

Heith 1) I met you in a creative writing class. You had black fingernails. You like vampires too. You wrote fiction, and our professor was prone to taking you apart at the seams. (Nothing particular to you, except maybe your gender). 2) Modern English: I'll Stop the World and Melt With You. Don't know why-- it just does. 3) Topher Grace. Don't be offended by that-- he's adorable. You are tall and thin and have dark hair like he does. You don't like your face, and I have no idea what is up with that. 4) Poised. n. A state or condition of hovering or being suspended. Selina 1) You have the distinct honor of being the person I liked best at work. And then you quit. And went to medical school! And I am so proud of you! And every day I think this about you: "Dammit, why doesn't Selina have a cell phone so I can call her and see if she wants to have lunch with me?" But even more than the fact that you are REAL and that you got me started blogging, you a...

I wrote this today in an email to someone who asked what the diagnosis means for Christian and the family. The diagnosis doesn't really mean anything. We went down to get a diagnosis because the bottom line is that it is an insurance policy for him through college: it guarantees him an Individualized Education Program through then. And an IEP, as they are called, means that he will always be graded and tested based on his abilities, rather than his performance. For example: he currently has an IEP because his IQ is higher than his language abilities, and if there is an imbalance, they work to try to even it out. However, as his language abilities have improved, he has become closer and closer to losing his IEP without the diagnosis. And it is very odd that he has language deficits, because he is also gifted in written expression. His reading and writing and verbal IQ scores are all in the 130's. Math at 99 (almost dead average) pulls the composite IQ down to 116 (which is ...

1) I met you in a creative writing class. You had black fingernails. You like vampires too. You wrote fiction, and our professor was prone to taking you apart at the seams. (Nothing particular to you, except maybe your gender). 2) Modern English: I'll Stop the World and Melt With You. Don't know why-- it just does. 3) Topher Grace. Don't be offended by that-- he's adorable. You are tall and thin and have dark hair like he does. You don't like your face, and I have no idea what is up with that. 4) Poised. n. A state or condition of hovering or being suspended.

I found at Kazoofus : 1. Reply with your name and I will write something about you. 2. I will then tell what song[s] remind me of you. 3. Next, I will tell you who you remind me of, celebrity/animated or otherwise. 4. Last, I will try to name a single word that best describes you. 5. Put this in your journal.

That is the title of the new picture in my top, left-hand corner. Amy , is it okay if I use it? I stand corrected on the title. Amy is the photographer, and she gave it to me, framed, for Christmas, so I didn't think she'd mind if I used it here. So, friends in blogland, what kinds of weekend plans do you have?

This morning, as we speak, there is a cleaning woman at my house giving Dereck an estimate. Last night, we discussed how much we thought we could afford to pay per month. And then we discussed putting an ad in the student newspaper for a new student. The cleaning service wants us to (sigh) pick up before they come. I suppose we will have to ask them to define that: get things off the floor, or tidy or what? Jen, our college student who had the nerve to graduate in December, used to pick up AND clean. And Erin, our babysitter whom we LOVE, has supposedly been Jen's replacement, but she was in a car accident and has been suffering from migraines, and I feel badly for her, but my house ain't getting any cleaner. If she cancels again today, we are just going to have to replace her, though I think that is what we are heading for already. But I keep her in babysitting money and pay her outrageous amounts of money because she is availabe at the drop of a hat, has her own wheels,...

I found out now why you need an iPod: you can't play your iTunes on your computer without iTunes as your player. I can't download iTunes at work. How long does it take Netflix to send you movies? If I ordered some today, would I have them by Friday night? How is this advantageous to actually going to the video store, where I can see everything displayed? Are iPods worth the money? Really? A mini or a regular size? I think the shuffle one would not do-- I am more of a control freak than I care to admit.

As in Rufus Wainwright , and if you don't know Rufus's music, you should. Man, last night I had been around the kids for less than an hour before they were on my last nerve. I took them to the grocery store, and had to deal with Tommy having fits because he likes the kitty name Shadow, and then trying to navigate the grocery store with Tommy playing hide and seek, and God love Sam, but that child never. stops. talking. About just everything that comes into his head. (My dad is laughing right now-- my parents got their revenge times three). Then, Tommy was sulking to he wandered over and coaxed a free balloon from the florist. We go out to the car, and it's a freakin' blizzard outside, and Sam is helping me with the groceries, and accidentally bumps Tommy, who lets go of the free balloon-- major meltdown. I order them back into the store for another balloon, start the car, and sneak a few drags of a cigarette, crouched where Christian can't see me. Things finally cal...

Stolen from the Monkey . 1. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS One house, one mortgage, three bedrooms, one boyfriend , three sons, one dog, five cats, three fish, one car, one mini-van, two computers that work, one that doesn't, one laptop, two cellphones, one stereo, one portable CD player, two televisions, two DVD players (not including the two on computers and one on the laptop), two VCR's, one X-Box, one Game Cube, and one Game Boy. 2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? Undead and Unemployed by Mary Janice Davidson. 3. WHAT’S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? My mouse 4. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE BOARD GAME? Monopoly or Risk or Scrabble 5. FAVORITE MAGAZINE? US Weekly, In Touch, Star and People (this meme is starting to feel familiar). 6. BABIES? Taste of chicken. 7. FAVORITE SOUNDS? My children's little voices, which I should record more so I can capture them before they change. Mostly when Tommy snuggles and gets really nasal: "You are so CUTE! You have a squishy butt." 8. WORST FEELING IN THE WO...

I am doing fine today, (thanks, Luce), and I realized when I came home to eat with kitty today that there were pictures of he and hi slittermates on the kitty shelter website (Oh, yes, I knew about him in advance, though I went yesterday originally for an adult calico, who was adopted an hour and half before I got there), so for your viewing pleasure...

I got up at 5:50 a.m. today and got Christian up and ready, and then drove sleepily 90 miles for our doctor's appointment. As I was navigating buildings and parking lots, I thought to myself, "Signs, People. It cannot be that hard." Christian actually had ridden down with the Ex who came to pick him up, and so I found them in a waiting room, Christian watching Green Acres on Ex's laptop. It was 8:55 a.m., and they had just gotten there as well (we shared pleasantries about how ill-labeled everything was). We were there until noon, and saw, intermittently: a speech therapist, a nurse practitioner (Christian's and my favorite-- he was very nice and funny-- everyone was nice); social workers; and finally, the doctor. In the meantime, we filled out inventories and answered questions, "Does he refuse to eat foods of certain textures? Some children will eat only yellow foods." "Uh, no." And at the end of our time, we did finally get a diagnosi...

Well, after a week, I have to say that I am not completely well (after you have had pneumonia, if you have any twinges, you fear), but I think I am doing okay. Physically, anyway. I stayed home Friday and slept. Karl came to town, but I did not go out Friday night, because in the land where Jen lives, if you are too sick to go to work, you are also too sick to go out. So, I stayed home with salad, popcorn, a huge puppy, and two bad movies . But I like bad movies, so it was fine. Dereck had a good time going out. He had not such a good time yesterday. I did some house cleaning yesterday and as the day wore on, I got progressively more nervous and tense about the doctor appointment I have for Christian tomorrow morning, 90 miles away, involving two hours and a team of experts. Yee haw. I am feeling slightly less tense today after calling my parents last night. Yesterday afternoon, I walked over to Bob's where Karl and Mary H. and Bob had lit the chimenea in the backyard, an...

This virus is pretty much making the rounds of this little town. Selina described it perfectly: "We've both had colds this week- mine began first; this virus knocks you on your rear and renders you senseless in a cyclic every-two-days-you-will-not-get-out-of-bed fashion (in addition to giving you nightmares about suffocating and intruders trying to break into your house through your window but you can't scream and you should get up this is just a dream but is it real go get Scott I can't move oh god oh god I can't move---wake up sobbing, rinse, repeat)."

I am at home resting today, after having completed my deadlines and obligations the past two days. I cannot remember the last time a cold knocked me out this much. You will all be happy to know that Christian's Orange is still alive and well, and has now joined his friend Colorful Paper Bag, and they are sitting on the kitchen table together reading Calvin and Hobbes. Last week, our Dog Whisperer tried to convince us to adopt a new kitty: Smokie, male, neutered, de-clawed, belonging to someone with allergies. We declined after many discussions. Last night, our baby sitter called and said there is just the friendliest little calico hanging around her house. I made Dereck call her back [he is the one who primarily is not ready for more pets, so he can deliver the news this time]. He told her to call us this morning if it was still hanging around. He reasoned that it might be someone's pet, as our own very friendly Boone Kitty was prone to hanging out with other peo...

For Lucy, whom I miss when she goes off the radar for a day or two... Q1. Why Mary Janes ? I love Mary Janes! They are just a cute, feminine, girlish kind of shoe, and I only have one pair, but I don't think I could ever have too many. Q2. What is your first childhood memory favorite breakfast ? Funny you should ask. I actually own a fabulous cookbook called The Breakfast Book, but my favorite breakfast comes from Anne Lamott's book Operating Instructions. Mind you, I haven't had this in years. But here it is: You take some nice soft buns, kaiser rolls. You dip them in egg mixture (with a wee bit of Bailey's in it) and then roll them in ground up graham crackers mixed with cinnamon. Then you slab them with cream cheese and press blueberries into the cream cheese. Make a sandwich out of it. Then fry it up in butter, til the cream cheese has melted all over the blueberries, pour on real maple syrup and eat. There is nothing like it. Q3. Do you remember your...

Brought to you by the girl who does the book meme and Heith . 1. What is your opinion of poetry? Do you love it, hate it, can't live without it, or wish all poets would be stranded on a desert isle? I adore it. I majored in creative writing as an undergrad writing poetry, and did a creative thesis (booklength collection of poems) for my master's thesis. I have often said it's my true religion, and the reason I exist. Though for shame! I haven't written it much lately. 2. What is your favorite poem? Copy and paste it here in your answer (and yes, if your favorite poem happens to be a dirty limerick, so be it- share away). My favorite? I don't know if I have one. I will have to go home and look. I'll edit later. 3. Do you have a favorite poet or a favorite collection of poetry? Along the same vein, is there a particular poet that you don't really care for? Why? Wow. I have a ton of collections at home. From memory: Wayne Dodd, Stanley Plumly, Jane M...

I have a thought for you to ponder. For the first time in about 17 years (since I first began going by the name), it struck me as completely weird that my name is now "jen" instead of "jennifer" and that people actually refer to me by this name in the workplace. Does that ever seem weird to you? When I was growing up, there were no "Jens." Only Jennys and Jennifers. I was a Jenny once. But in college: I became Jen. Because there were five Jennifers on my floor. My mother likes to call me Jenny Penny. What is interesting is that my family spells my name Jenn. We have never talked about it. I sign it back to them Jenn. But to everyone else, it's just three little letters: J-e-n. Jen. I don't know why, probably because I am still sick, but it just strikes me as a little bizarre today. Do you have a nickname? How and when did you get it? What do you prefer to be called, and by whom?

This is my little fulcrum monkey friend, and his stunning little niece.  He is going through a bit of a rough patch, and as seems to be the case with rough patches and friends, this means he thinks he wants to stop blogging.  Which will send Jenorama into a spiralling depression and might per chance interfere with HER blogging.  So, will you please go to his blog and beg him not to stop?  For me?  Please???  I'm not trying to TELL him what to do.  I'm just begging is all.

Given the fact that I am still woozy and ill today, I asked Karl , who knows me better than I know myself, for a little help with these. I agreed with his answers. KathyHowe : 1. I like best about myself the fact that I found the strength to assert my independence, and I'll never go back. 2. The more I think about reincarnation (I didn't have to ask Karl about this), the more I think that it is really the only possible solution. My children actually just naturally came to this life with a firm belief in reincarnation, which I have reinforced at every possible turn. The other day, I wrote in my journal this quote from Tommy: "God blows up the universe and then goes back to the Star Trek again." And I think what he meant by this is that we are just going to do this and then start over again and again and again-- what else is there to do? Christian in particular likes to design what his future lives will be like (i.e. what creatures he will be), and because he wants...