"One of the guys" at work

I'm in an interesting position at the office: I work with mostly guys, and many of them are technically young enough to be my sons (if I'd have been getting busy instead of, say, watching Cagney & Lacey or going to marching band practice). Anyway, I am vain enough to want these fellas to think of me as anything but a mother figure. And after today, I'm pretty sure they don't see me that way, which is cool. How do I know this? Well, they talked to me about sex and included non-motherly detail. It's so funny: I'm clearly not someone they want to sleep with, so all that potential tension is non-existent. But they're still intrigued, I think because I am a girl, who, like them, appreciates hot girls. (Though I am not into big-boobed vacant-eyed blondes with the same level of enthusiasm).

Anyway, we had a team-building exercise that involved going to a Mariners game. It was fun -- the ballpark is great, and we were just a few feet from the bullpen. But now that my work no longer involves paying attention to sports, I'm not as entertained by baseball as I used to be. So, I chatted with the fellas in the bright sun, beer in hand (theirs) and diet soda in hand (mine). It's so funny ... talking to them I realize how much time and energy I wasted trying to be straight in my 20s. I could have spent it doing what they're doing: Trying to hook up with girls! But I am so glad I don't have to worry about all the complicates they're sweating, from STDs to different ideas about commitment.

If I knew any twentysomethings, I'd set these guys up. Yeah, they want to get it wet as much as possible -- they ARE guys. But it seems like they're trying to be as decent about it as possible, and I respect that. And hey: They're smart, good-looking and fun to talk to. Oh, and it wasn't all sex: We talked about religion, too. And suburban life (mine). And urban life (theirs). And sports (they want to take me and my family to a hockey game and teach us to appreciate that). We'll see.

Take me out . . . For a work 'teambuilder'

Mama's jacket fits two boys at once!

It was chilly at the boys' most recent T-ball game. And we forgot their jackets. But I had mine!

A Sad Turn for the Butterscotch Stallion

Wow, did not expect this .... Though I wasn't as shocked as Kate Hudson:

Reports of Owen suicide try rock Hudson
By Gayle Fee and Laura Raposa
Tuesday, August 28, 2007

A distraught-looking Kate Hudson was whisked off the set of “Bachelor No. 2” in Chinatown yesterday after word broke that her ex-boyfriend, “Wedding Crashers” star Owen Wilson, may have attempted suicide on the Left Coast.

“She looked upset,” said Someone Who Was There. “She was on the phone, pacing back and forth. Then her handlers came out, and covered her with an umbrella, and she was ushered into a white SUV and she took off.”

Hudson, who split with her “You, Me and Dupree” co-star back in May, had been filming a scene with co-star Dane Cook inside Centerfolds, the downtown strip club. She has been in Boston for three weeks shooting the romantic comedy accompanied by her new beau, “Employee of the Month” goofball Dax Shepard.

Wilson, 38, who is blamed for busting up Hudson’s marriage to Black Crowes frontman Chris Robinson, issued a statement pleading for privacy after he was hospitalized for what ABC news termed a “possible suicide attempt.”

“I respectfully ask that the media allow me to receive care and heal in private during this difficult time,” Wilson said in a statement released to Reuters.

Wilson was in good condition at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center yesterday, according to a hospital spokeswoman. She didn’t give the reason for his admission but several reports say that the actor had slashed his wrists and an empty bottle of pills was found next to him.

Santa Monica police said officers responded to a “medical assistance call” at Wilson’s home shortly after noon Sunday. Wilson was transported to Saint John’s Health Center in Santa Monica - the same hospital where New England Patriots [team stats] quarterback Tom Brady [stats]’s baby was born last week.

The National Enquirer reported that paramedics were summoned by a family member who called 911 after finding the actor. Wilson was subsequently transferred to Cedars-Sinai for detox and his brother, actor Luke Wilson, was seen leaving the Beverly Hills treatment center.

According to the Enquirer, Wilson may have been distraught over the break up with Hudson and her subsequent romance with Shepard. The actress has been photographed canoodling with the “Punk’d” field agent in Boston and just this past weekend the couple was snapped in a full-on makeout session in a supermarket in Malibu.

The Tinseltown twosome were also spied walking her son, Ryder, 3, around the Back Bay and taking the tyke out for pizza at the Upper Crust on Beacon Hill. Shepard even hung out with Kate’s ex, Chris Robinson, when he came to town to play at the Irish Festival in Canton.

“Perhaps Wilson saw how close they were getting and it sent him over the edge,” speculated one Hollywood insider.

File Under: Tears of a Clown.

Swim lessons are working

Milton Centennial fireworks

Our town turned 100, and it was a lot of fun! I took some pictures and so did Chas. Hard to tell who took what.

Why it is dangerous for me to listen to music on the train ...

or the office, for that matter:

So, this morning on the way into work, I'm listening to some of my favorite songs on the train. The upside of this is that they put me into a great mood. The downside of this is that I tend to bop in my seat like a goober and, worse, sing along. And as much as I love the sound of my own voice, I recognize that not everyone is as enamored of it as I am. So I'm trying to control myself somewhat.

Right now the song is Seal, "Waiting for You." I'd characterize it as expansive pop: Big vocal to invite you in. Strong beat. Some strings, including acoustic guitar. Now it's Harry Connick's turn, with "Whisper Your Name."

"Somebody was spreading rumors 'bout better days a'coming. Why was I humming as if I knew one and the same? But I just whispered your name."

OK, I AM a NASCAR fan

I've got a window open on my desktop that shows real-time lap results from the "3M Performance 400" at the Michigan International Speedway. This race was supposed to have taken place Sunday but got delayed due to rain. Which is why I'm not watching it. Yes, NASCAR has overtaken VH1 as my preferred Sunday-afternoon puttering backdrop. Yes, even though TiVo should be recording this race, I'm interested enough that I want to know NOW what's going on.

Dale Jr., who is emerging as my favorite racer, is in 5th place. But to make matters worse, the guy ahead of him in the "race for the Chase" (essentially, NASCAR "playoffs") is winning. Bad. If Jr. doesn't start winning, he's going to be sitting while other drivers go for the title.

Argh!

Milton centennial fireworks

I love our town! We had a great party this weekend celebrating Milton's 100th anniversary, and it felt so homey, so sweet. Like a (very large) family picnic. This is a shot of the fireworks display, which at first seemed like it would have to work hard to outdo our big-spending neighbors. But then it kept getting bigger and cooler, all timed to music and more colorful than most displays. Maybe everyone had their expectations on the low side, but they were well exceeded.

Tell Me Again Why I'm So Careful With My Money?

So is the whole subprime lending mess going to send the economy into the dumper? Who knows? I just know that I, as someone who is actually careful with her money (and married to someone who is even more frugal), resents the fact that the debt freaks are dragging us down.

But this (from The Onion) made me laugh ...

The most pleasant doctor's visit ever ...

So I just met with my endocrinologist, who gives me pills to make up for my defective thyroid and does his best to make sure I'm not done in by my family disposition to gain weight and insanity with age.

It went well. Surprisingly well, actually. We laughed and everything.

I think he's happy to spend time with a patient who isn't feeling the worst effects of the demon diabetes. I'm still young-ish, and other than the fact that I've gotta take thyroid pills everyday, I'm doing OK. I'm now off the anti-depressants, and doing well. Gosh, you think it has anything to do with the fact that I'm not working for the newspaper anymore? I think it might. Really, I'm practically giddy at the thought that I don't have to do that job anymore, even though my gig at Unbox is getting more complicated and growing-painsy by the day. But that's OK. I feel like I'm part of something cool. And I get to swim around in TV constantly.

My endocrinologist (his name is Dr. David McCowen, if you're interested, and he's absolutely top-notch) seems to love his work as well .... He told me, endocrinologists aren't God. But God is an endocrinologist.

Kickass woman of the day: Babe Didrickson Zaharias

If you haven't heard of the "other" Babe, that's a tragedy. She was the finest female athlete of the 20th century, and possibly ever, capable of hitting a golf ball into the stratosphere before they made clubs out of titanium and striking out Joe DiMaggio (seriously).

How did she do it? Here's what she said: "You've got to loosen your girdle and let it rip!" Go, Babe.

(Yes, she was probably a sister, as ESPN sort of ham-handedly acknowledges:

In the later years of their marriage, problems arose as Zaharias lost influence with his wife. Babe spent more time with good friend Betty Dodd, a young golfer who was a natural athlete and had no interest in looking feminine. She often stayed at the Zaharis' home in Tampa. )

I can't resist one more quote, from an article in the Organization of American Historians Magazine of History:

In the early 1930s, an unsuspecting New York newspaper reporter approached Mildred Ella "Babe" Didrikson. She was already, at the young age of nineteen, nationally known as a championship basketball player and double gold and silver medalist in track and field at the 1932 Los Angeles Olympics. The reporter said, "I'm told you also swim, shoot, ride, row, box, and play tennis, golf, basketball, football, polo and billiards. Is there anything at all you don't play?" "Yeah," the East Texan replied, "dolls"

I am not staining the fence this weekend ...

so it will be a good weekend.

Staining the fence is what I did last weekend. In a word, it sucked. I've done a fair amount of painting, but staining is worse. The reasons why are tedious: Stain is runnier than paint and tends to blow all over the place when you're using something theoretically designed to make your task easier (i.e., a paint sprayer).

I ended up with ridiculous amounts of paint in my hair, and yet the gray still showed. Not fair.

Ultimately, the fence ended up looking quite good. I didn't do part of it: The side that faces the wetlands. The obsessive side of me is a little bothered by this, but it's a testament to how annoying the process of staining is that I can let it go. And so I am.

Tomorrow, my project will be a little exterior painting. Basic stuff, just some peely spots. And then we're off to T-ball and a birthday party for the boys' cousin Gavin.

The show I wish existed back in 1985 ....

So I recently discovered South of Nowhere, a show that airs on The N (Nickelodeon's channel for teenagers). It's your typical teen-angst drama, complete with broken hearts, missed connections and angst aplenty. Except that instead of boy meets girl, it's girl meets girl! Spencer (the Midwestern LA transplant) and Ashley (the LA bad girl). Their fans call them "Spashley." I'm not sure what I think of the nickname, but I'm a fan of the show.

As with a lot of these shows, the dialog is sometimes painful. But sometimes, it's painfully touching. Like when the girls in the center of the will-they-or-won't-they-storm find themselves at that "we might kiss now" moment. "It's OK," Ashley says.

Simple as that. "It's OK." I don't know if hearing that would have changed the trajectory of my life. (And I would never want to be in an orbit that didn't intersect with Cheryl's.) But you never know.

"Eventually, love trumps fear. Every time."

My Dash is here, and I love it!

OK, took the plunge and got Cheryl and I new phones. Had to extend our contract two years, but we're not the kind of people who change phones -- or phone companies -- that often. It's funny ... the T-Mobile person who helped me seemed genuinely inspired to suck up by the fact that I've been subscribed to their service since 2000.

Cheryl's phone, the Nokia 5300, is so popular that it won't be here until the end of the week. By then, I hope I have my Ms. Pac-Man ringtone loaded up. :)

It's fun to ...

... sing and dance to "YMCA" at a Puyallup community festival. Or, as Chas calls it, "YCMA!"