At least I'm putting that reporter-issued camera to some use

And my boy is putting his Christmas present to good use.

Accentuate the positive

I'm trying to be my own cheerleader, since obviously the honchos controlling my life don't seem to be in touch with staff happiness. (Must not provide enough hits on the company website for them).

I decided to get an early start so I can get that blasted election story done and I am reveling in the fact that I am wearing jeans in my normal size, but - GASP! - they are loose! I truly have dropped a size (to a number that I haven't seen right before my wedding, which the last time I was truly skinny). At last, all those situps and kung-fu kicks and the tai chi and yoga workouts and the healthy eating and the detox teas are paying off.

It has been a five year battle since my pregnancy to get my figure back down to what had been my normal size. I've always had the workouts and I've tried to eat well.

The breakthrough, believe it or not, was Harry Potter night. While waiting for my turn to buy The Deathly Hallows, I glanced through this book , offering a version of what some might consider the latest dieting fad.

What I found was not a fad, but something that really resonated with the tree-hugging lifestyle and beliefs I've long had - not only a preference for alternative healing, environmental causes, organic whole foods, but also a preference for cooking from scratch.

I don't like mixes, for example. I have a box of Betty Crocker's banana bread mix that has been sitting in the pantry since I started living with my husband. I think he actually brought it from before we started living together. But I never touch it because I make the real thing, mashing the bananas, adding buttermilk and eggs and all the rest. I have made dozens of loaves of banana bread through the years. Frankly, I don't know if I'll ever use that mix.

I have also been suspicious of artificial additives. I've stuck with real sugar all these years, never using the pink packets or the blue packets or the yellow packets that try to mimic sugar. It just never seemed right to use them, though I could never articulate why.

Of course, I am not perfect in this devotion. I have a few convenience foods I cling to - macaroni and cheese, for one.

This book, though, has convinced me to drop even that. The key is understanding the impacts of all these artificial additives to your body and your health and your weight loss goals. It made me a believer.

My diet is not yet perfect (I can't stop having coffee, or the occasional junk food, sorry), but the small changes have made a big difference. I guess I've made my own version of a detox diet - with some particular teas, and I've even used these foot pads.

So, detox works. My hips are living proof of that.

Distraction

I pulled myself out of my personal funk by catching up with Paul Krugman's new blog and the blogs on the Huffington Post as well as re-learning the names of international heads of state. (I frightened myself today when I had a brain lock and couldn't remember Britain's Prime Minister's last name, though I did remember his first name is Gordon, and I couldn't remember the name of the Iraqi Prime Minister.)

I am also pondering the next great purchase for a Mommy like me.

But now I can't sit in the office and concentrate on the work they expect me to do in there, while I am surrounded by a decade of memories which I must pack away by the end of the year.

And the pontifications of these city election candidates seems so pointless that I can't discipline myself to just write the story and get it over with so that I can move on to bigger and better things.

One ironic twist: the phone extension I'm taking over at the main county bureau is the same one that I had when I first started at the paper.

Eleven years later, I go back to the beginning.

Uprooted

It is so hard to focus on the positive. Not when you're in the doldrums.

I really have tried to prevent the malaise of work to blacken my mood. It is very hard, when you see good people let go, when you see talented people get frustrated and leave, and when those who are left simply go to work and miss the good old days.

Luck has been with me so far. I'm in good health, with a nice home, a good family, a wonderful little boy. I have my career, my Tai Chi, my circle of friends, my comfortable lifestyle.

And even with all the turmoil at the office, I have kept plugging away, kept finding the work that made me happy but was still valued, important work that people read.

But now the rug has pulled out from under me. After months of speculation, I was finally told the bad news that a bureau my company has had for more than 30 years (maybe 35 or 40?) will be shut down. I knew it was coming but the absolute truth of it is just hitting today.

Because it is expedient. Because it will save money. Because apparently it doesn't matter whether I have a base of operations that makes sense for the work I need to do. Because I am simply another body that can get shuffled around and it doesn't matter how difficult this makes life for me. Because it is a line item that can be quickly deleted without guilt.

I don't want to wallow in this pit for too long. There are many people out there, who have much more terrible problems. There are greater crises out there.

I know I can find a way through this, to remake this and work for me. But for the moment, I'm not sure how. Can I do my magical lemons into lemonade trick this time?

Sigh.

I needed a distraction

The subject of my last post is bothering me still.

So I started surfing the net and got inspired to take one of these silly quizzes.

Apropos, no?

Your Score: BLOSSOM

You scored 90% Powerpuff-ness!

Blossom is the leader of the Powerpuff Girls. She's strong and determined, but methodical; she thinks things through. Blossom doesn't run off into a situation with just her emotions ruling her. Though as a leader she's powerful and productive, she tries hard not to be all work and no play.

Link: The which Powerpuff Girl are you Test written by yellowcougar20 on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Life questions

In a little over a month, I'll hit a new milestone in my life - the age of 35.

I guess it's been all the turmoil at work that has me thinking a lot about my age, what I've done and what I will do for the rest of my life.

While pondering the potential plan B's, I made a comment about how hard it would be to change careers, if I must. My friend replied that even if I were to change careers now, I could still work for 30 years, and given the lifespans these days, I could.

Which is why news like this seems so strange to me.

I just got word that one of my high school classmates just died.

A week ago, I learned that she was in the last stages of her illness.

Brain cancer.
At age 35.

On Tuesday morning, she passed away, leaving behind a husband, a young daughter, her parents and sisters.

Though we took most of the same senior year classes together, we were never that close. But I still knew her and she was a familiar part of my life for 4 years and I have very distinct memories of sitting across from her in my Russian literature class, discussing Tolstoy.

I do feel sadness, but really, I'm confused more than anything else. How could this happen? Why her? These are questions that no one can answer and yet there are so many, especially her loved ones, that must grapple with this.

Laura, wherever you are, I wish you peace. And no more pain.

Formalities

Perhaps, like a local biologist I know, I was born in the wrong era.

For example, I am very, very fond of formality in conversation. I often cringe at how informal people are, in situations when they shouldn't be. I love period movies and dramas and books where people use formal address.(Pride & Prejudice still sits on my personal top 5.) I love court hearings for that same reason too (where even an accused murderer is called Mr. Jones). I sometimes bemoan the lack of grammatical formality in English, as opposed to the usted form in Spanish, the vous form in French, the various levels of formality in Tagalog, and even the use of the patronymic in Russian. (Just call me L------- Frederovna).

I've been very intent on raising my son to be polite and to use titles, even with the neighbors. He's already very good at using please, and thank you and excuse me. When I scold him, I require him to answer me, "Yes, Ma'am." And because I don't think my 5-year-old should call the 65-year-old British man across the street by his first name, I at least make him attach the word "Mister."

So I had to chuckle when I was thumbing through his school work for the week on Friday. He dutifully wrote his name on the sheets, but on half of them he used "Mr. N__".

What's odd is, I don't remember teaching him the abbreviation for Mister. I don't remember reading that to him or writing it out for him. But there it was, clear as day and now, apparently, part of his own identity at school.

The latest dish

The web gossips are all abuzz about a little known fact that the U.S. Secretary of State co-owns a house, and the customary line of credit, with a woman.

Yes, a woman.

Whether this financial relationship goes much beyond that isn't known, but one blogger on the Huffington Post did note that such a financial arrangement can set off alarms in the military's Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy. And of course, Condi was once the national security advisor.

Even more fascinating is the possibility that she is the highest ranking lesbian this nation has ever seen. We'll have to see how long this circulates before the relationship is clarified.

The funniest part though is that the house co-owner is filmmaker Randy Bean, making theirs the home of Rice and Bean.

The proposal

Last night, we had urged our son to go ahead and make his declaration at dinner. It was a dare, yes, but one that seemed like fun.

The maitre d', our good friend and the mother of an adorable 5- year-old girl, came over to chat and my boy made his announcement:

"I want to marry Emily!"

And Emily's mom, who had actually joked about this possibility, laughed and said that she had been waiting 5 years to hear those words.

Actually, it may have been 6 years. That was the point when we met this couple, when she and I were pregnant and we discovered that our due dates were very close.

She gave birth to her girl in late July and I gave birth in August, and so started the running joke, that we would set them up.

Emily came over for my son's 1st birthday party and my son, just the fun-loving boy he's always been, ran over to hug her, and ended up tackling her on the floor. My son loved it. Emily was a little overwhelmed.

Still they always played nicely, though there was no other obvious overtures. But the joke has persisted between my husband and me and Emily's parents.

A few weeks ago, my son told me that he wanted to marry me. I was warned this could happen - that many boys go through this "Mommy adoration" phase and that I might expect a marriage proposal.

I explained to my boy that little boys don't marry their Mommies, but that I would always love him.

Resigned, my son then said: "OK, then I guess I'll marry Emily." Which seemed the logical choice, since she is the closest female friend that he has.

Then my son looked up at the ceiling fan and laughed. "Or maybe I'll marry my fan!"
Yes, that's my son's original humor.

Anyway, we ate dinner last night at the restaurant that Emily's parents operate. We had a nice time as always. During a lull in the meal, I reminded my son of the conversation we had about Emily. I laughed and teased him that I might tell Emily's mommy. My son said to go ahead. But then Daddy told my little boy that if he wanted Emily's mommy to know, he should say it himself. There we set up the dare.

I just didn't know if he would take it. But there we were, chatting about Kindergarten and schools, when my son offered his proposal.

Of course, I had to explain the background, which Emily's mom enjoyed. My son seemed really proud that he had the courage to do it.

No word yet on whether it was accepted.

I could be a rich woman

In case you saw this particular TV news story last night, you may have heard the kicker, which quoted, nearly verbatim, an exclusive story that I had a couple of months ago. (Though I will note for the record, that the show got one fact slightly skewed.)

Oh, if I only had a nickel for every time a TV or radio reporter quoted my work ....

My son the foodie

What does it mean when my husband and I pick restaurants based on my son's recommendations? And I'm not talking Chuck E. Cheese, mind you.

It was a few weeks back, when my son was still in preschool that one of his friends talked about a trendy new restaurant in town. Apparently, the 5-year-old's glowing review made quite an impression on the playground and my son decided that our next restaurant trip would have to be to this place. (Who knew that these preschoolers were such foodies?)

He mentioned the restaurant a couple of times. I chuckled because, frankly, it's the kind of place I like - trendy, not a chain, and a menu with both standards and some imagination. And I was already keen on eating there myself, independent of his recommendation.

Then came the opportunity to try it out. My husband had to repay a favor and we needed a nice place to eat. So of course, we had to go to our boy's choice.

Overall, it did not disappoint, though it turns out that the place is owned by local restaurateurs, and we've tried their 2 other places. The menu and the decor is strikingly similar, but technically it's not a chain. I opted for a flavorful (though decidedly soggy) mango/avocado/shrimp wrap and was pleased with the service.

Amazing. Out of the mouths of babes.