Life Tip on Q-Tips: No Penny Pinching

Reasons why the Extra 99 are Worth Every Red Cent:

• It is your ears!!! (They come in handy from time to time. Not so much when you are reading my wonderful thoughts or, say, attempting to ignore your boss; but still! There are many reasons to like them. Bobby Dylan is one reason, Birds are another)


• Pulling cotton remnants out of your ear from the pervious cleaning during the current cleaning seems counter productive


• Mid-swab you notice that the cotton has moved down the stick and you are now just scraping your ear with a plastic stick


• A PLASTIC STICK, it’s bad enough you are sticking things in your ear – don’t make them hard sharp objects


• Only the “real –thing” seem to do that amazing trick of fitting in the cotton swab holder perfectly with that swirl look

Many life lessons are learned the hard way - that said, the easy way isn't always the best way, but with Q-tips it may be, read and take heed!

Home on Tioga Street

Jess and B-Money moved into their new home this weekend. Binh-Man and I went down to head up "Team Nimble", keep Jess calm and help John Ford drink all the beer he purchased.

Porch Sleeping -
Home on Tioga

Lazy Sunday started on a Saturday afternoon
Beyond the boxes of yesterday’s houses
Backyard ball with surfers and summer brews
(Engineering on hold till Monday)

Today we build memories for tomorrow
In 100 years of yesterday’s wood
Is your Mama home?
No this is for free and it’s mine all mine
Put this box in the kitchen
Move this up to the attic;
We’ll discover it new, years from now and wonder why.

When the day is over
This shower can clean us all
It will start us fresh
For Sunday;
Sunday morning
Let me sleep
On the porch
And watch the town pass by

I’ll be returning here -
In September - what a beautiful day
Home; where life is good

“While Lizzie Drives up I-95”

A recount of my 24 for 24

While Barry white is pumping in my parents empty nest Toyota trade-in for their mini van; Maggie, Clifford and I are mid-trip to the nations vacationland –Portland Maine, for my favorite type of vacation; a beautiful run. (Beach to Beacon 08)

As I re-tell my early 3:30 am adventures of the day to Clifford , Dad-America keeps repeating the words nuts and crazy, but I am all his so he has no one to blame but himself.

So here is starts with the end…July ends on my favorite day of the year, the day of my birth…how convenient

As of late, stupid decisions seem to escalate in my head in those long moments between deep breaths and dreams at that moment, said ideas seem so sound I wake up believing I should accomplish them. Enter latest; “I should run 24 miles on my 24th birthday” I vocalized this to my new fabulously smoking hot and intelligent roomies and maybe in a moment of lacking intelligence Elle responded with an enthusiastic Yes!

And it has begun; an email out to the boys; some mutual friends and the 1125 Roomies results in the quick set up of a pot-luck pre-run birthday feast. Where long after I had gorged myself on the wonderful veggie fare I tested the limits of my ever present lactose intolerance by devouring the 4 story cheese cream frosted cake.

Tummy turning around 3 am, the one-and-only Sassy Pants delivers a wakeup call of “happy birthday you big freak-baby”. I throw on the running skirt (I am embracing the fact that running makes me smoking hott and I may as well look cute too.) Eliot loads up goodies for me on his bike as my sovereign and sanity keeper and we hit the road for the start of the 4 loops that will bring me 24 miles closer to being tired by 8 am.

The first 5 mins of the run bring me pass my favorite watering hole / tummy filler, Alto Cinco, the boys that feed me two times a day are still drinking in the night before. Looks of disbelief as I trot passed with my spelunking lamp strapped to my forehead and a smile tight across my cheeks.

Round 1 – 8.25 miles; Eliot saved my life as he protected me from crazy men in shady cars. He also helped me not think about the fact that my stomach was quite literally churning cream.

Round 2 - 5.25 miles Missy and Elle start out with me as the is sun still down but peaking over the Syracuse horizon.

Round 3 – 5.25miles The sweet Julie said “No liz, I will not let you run by yourself and stuck it our for some of the loop
NOTE: (when you have moved in with three girls you don’t know, take them for a run at 6 am; you’ll learn if you love ‘em or hate ‘em right away; and I am hoping these lovely ladies feel the prior)

Round 4 – 5.25 miles ;Last but by far not least my girl Jilly hopped in to bring me home and let me be a wee-bit cranky at this point about what now seemed a little bit like “my stupid idea” as she told everyone that we passed that I was running 24 miles that morning.

I finished in a dead sprint with the same smile that was part of my night-lite four darkened hours earlier.

Fast forward 10 hours later - Dad weaves in and out of Mass-hole rush hour traffic en route to our first father daughter race. And I know; that as Jilly said; I am blessed. Blessed for the fact that my feet and knees are as strong and stubborn as my mind; that I have friends who not only support me but join in; and blessed that I have a family I trust with my life; quite literally as I stay “calm” as dad breaks up the butt of the cars in front of me.

It seems that life just gets better with each passing day; there is probably some fabulous reason that there are 24 hours in every day.

From the start of it; it’s going to be a good year.

The Little Old Pear from Patagonia

I’m in love with my local co-op grocery. I portion out my income so that I can afford the above average costs that it takes to support my local business and my local farmer. I enjoy the experience so much that I don’t even try to cheat the scale in the bulk food section (I may or may not have “lost” my keys in bulk food bins while “sampling” at a larger grocery chain) I do it happily. (I love that small shop feel where they know what I buy each week and tell me what they are out of before I have even made it to the isle.) So, today when I stopped by the Co-Op on my way into work I was so disheartened to find my pears were from Patagonia. Do I want to travel to Patagonia? Yes. And when I am there I will pick pears right off the tree and eat them all juicy faced. But the pear without the passport stamp seems unnecessary.

Permanent Impermanence

I ran away from home when I was in second grade. It was a dramatic action (I’m a Leo) because I wasn’t allowed to watch TV since I wouldn’t pick up my room (shocker how some things don’t change). Therefore, I declared that I was actually an adopted child descending from the Royal family in England (obviously, my name IS Elizabeth) and owed no allegiance to this home (yes, I knew what allegiance meant we had to say the “pledge” to it everyday at school and I was somewhat of a precocious child)

When I returned two hours later from the half mile I made it away from the acres of land that housed me for 18 years, Maria made the following statement (finger wagging, for not the first or last time in my childhood) “As long as you live in my house you do what I say, and until you are 18 you have to live in my house-- because I’m your mother; I am the only one who can take you out of this world and I don’t feel like serving jail time, so you’re just going to have to deal with the fact that I love you and I make the rules.”

Needless to say, precocious children tend to challenge statements now and then; by the time I actually turned 18 Maria and I made a pact with each other (out of love). She promised I’d never have to live at “home” again; I promised to take my permanent address with me wherever I lived (to save her from junk mail and bills). This has kept most mother adult-daughter battles at bay (minus a two week stint where we drank some crazy juice and agreed that it might be “fun” for me to come home for a bit. Untrue). Also It has increased our appreciation for each other [I tend to call her when washing a floor on my hands and knees to “thank” her for instilling in me that nothing cleans quite like Clorox. She calls me when she is doing her only load of laundry for the week, since she no longer has a sweaty gym rat who needs three towels for showers she takes twice a day; or who ruins pans by burning eggs (dear God, it smells awful); who leaves her shoes smack-dab in front of the doorway; has a trail of clothes on the stairs up to her room; or mows down the side of the garage instead of the lawn] Even if, from time to time, My Momma drives the crazy train, I am pretty sure I played a big part in
handing her the wheel.

Regardless…point-o-my-story: Since that fateful summer 6 years ago I have moved permanently to everywhere except someplace permanent. It’s the eve before another move and I currently have a cell phone with a mailing address listed on an ocean Island in the Pacific; a license and voters registration where “bless her heart” is served with your sweet tea; and a car registered to the adress of my current office because the insurance woman said ‘pick the place the car will be the most’.

In case you are a member of the USPS, CIA, Credit Bureau or the Wall Street Journal Subscription I never actually paid for, and can’t seem to locate me here is a list of all my declared permanent addresses (thus far):

1) August 2002 – May 2003: Haven Hall, Syracuse University
2) May 2003 – August 2003: Waialae Ave Honolulu, HI
3) August 2003 – May 2004 : Day Hall, Syracuse University
4) May 2004 – August 2004: Sadler Hall, Syracuse University
5) August 2004 – May 2005: 715 Euclid Ave, Syracuse NY
6) May 2005 – September 2005: 1000 Mountain Rest Road, New Paltz, NY
7) September 2005 – May 2006: 530 Clarendon Ave, Syracuse, NY
8) May 2006 – July 2007: 517 West Academy St, Winston-Salem, NC
9) July 2007 – July 2008: 103 H king park Drive Liverpool, NY
10) July 2008--?.?.?: 1125 Westcott Street Syracuse NY 13090

Home is defined differently by many people; for me it’s more of a feeling you give to someone. No amount of brick and mortar and walls touching floor (or lack of, i.e. 715 Euclid) could replace the people that have been inside them. In fact, since moving out on my own I tend to find myself most “at home” (and fast asleep on couches) in the houses I am not paying any rent or allegiance to. The acres of land that I once ran away from still house all of my memories of tree climbing, apple pies, soccer cleats, ballet flats, mother-daughter battle/makeup’s and sibling cuddle sessions. It’s those experience that have made me the person who is okay with having nothing that’s her own, besides a couch that she is overly attached to. Point – open up your idea of home to include as many places and as many people as possible because each person brings with them their own piece of their “home” to share. Also, if you ever find me sleeping on your couch, a pile of my clothes on your floor; or dirty dishes in your sink from food you didn’t / wouldn’t eat it’s not just my permanent impermanence; it’s a little gesture to say “I love knowing you” - just keep me away from your lawn mower.

5, 4, 3...

You don’t expect to need people.

It just happens.

And you only begin to need someone when you have no reason to, other than the pleasure of their company.

Sometimes I think I have all the great people I could ever want for and right about then someone works there way into my life and they become irreplaceably “needed”.

January brought about five new irreplaceable all at once. Starting with the break of 2008, if I was not running around with the The Fab Five (Petey, Carl, Binh-Man, Eliot and Myself) then I was (literally) running with my hetero-girlfriend, Jilly. Winter in ‘Cuse seemed a bit brighter, warmer and shorter than I ever have remembered.

July is plucking them away one by one.

This week we had our goodbyes with Petey, our lanky Italian designer who can turn plastic cups into light fixtures; fills our bellies with home brews and our smiles with laughter as he awkwardly catches me off guard with some absurd sexual comment.

On top of it all, Petey is the coolest guy I know because his girlfriend, Raiken, is a smoking hot, for-real, legit firefighter-- suspenders and all.

When your GF is that awesome you try to be with her no matter where she is, and therefore Petey has left his life-sucking job as a design guy for Chase Design (and inspired us all to not be scared to do the same). He put everything he owns into a U-haul; minus his plants and a his art work, that is currently on display at the musem of my bedroom as an attempt to make me keep my room less messy so I can enjoy fine art.

A few months ago we went out for Petey’s birthday; The Fab Five drank a few brews at Empire as we shared our entrees (because Carl would have helped himself either way) and then relaxed with scotch and cigars. This week was Binh-Man’s birthday and the usual dinner crew of five was down to three, (Carl moved a few weeks back and is currently having too much fun talking firefighter dork-talk with Raiken.) While we each gorged ourselves happily on clams and salt potatoes, the table seemed smaller with out those two.

If I was Tu-Pac’s kind of girl I would have poured out some crystal on the sidewalk, but I think pouring some of Petey’s homebrew on the patio of The Clam Bar could have the same effect.

Ladies of the World

I'm talking brunettes not fighter jets

Enough said.