cars vs. crayons

I'm pretty experienced with crayons. Over the years, I've colored with the best of them-the best being in the seven to nine-year-old age range. Eight year olds are at the point where a whole lot of love still goes into each picture they make and yet, they've truly mastered staying in the lines.

This morning, though, I colored with Elizabeth, who just turned three last week. I'd really forgotten what it was like to color with such a newbie.It went like this: She chose both of our pictures and we began to color. I'd stay in the lines with my 20+ years of experience (not to brag) while she scribbled all over the entire paper. After about one minute, she'd look at my paper and decide she actually wanted mine instead. So, we'd switch. We continued down this path for quite a while, until Elizabeth decided that the papers had been exchanged enough.

It was time to start switching crayons. So, again the cycle began. I'd pick up a blue crayon and she'd pick up a green. After watching me color for a good ten seconds, she'd put the green down and take the blue from me.

I tested the consistency of the process at one point with a black crayon. After she took the original black away from me, I picked up another one.

It was just as I suspected, she took the crayon immediately and put the old black one back on the table.

I'd imagine this game could have entertained her for a long time, however, we were sadly interrupted by sirens and a loud noise hovering overhead.

Elizabeth and I soon discovered that we had front row seats to a high-speed police chase. The chase, involving over ten police officers and a helicopter ended just two streets away from our coloring extravaganza.

As I was sitting there with my crayons, watching the updates on Fox, I realized that this situation epitomizes the difference between boys are girls. Boys would have been running outside watching the cars fly by and the helicopter circle. Elizabeth and I locked the door (just in case) and went back to the crayons. Why would we worry about a car's horsepower when we could color horses?

20/20

As I sat in the eye doctor's office yesterday after hours, I found myself in an all-too-familiar situation.

He was stumped.

As I sat there, tapping my foot and willing myself not to cry (my eye was tearing- they weren't tears!) while he muttered under his breath that he just didn't know, I experienced flashbacks.

...To Dr. Patel telling me that my foot problems were caused by the fact that, "My feet just weren't made for running." (a month before the Chicago Marathon)

...Or the time that the gastro-guy told me that regardless of the extensive list of problems I was experiencing, "There's nothing wrong with you!!" (as if this was supposed to be reassuring)

But yesterday, because the eye doctor was just so sweet, I felt sad for him. How frustrating must that be to sit there and realize that regardless of all those years of schooling and practicing you still couldn't fix everyone's problems? His brain was probably reeling with thoughts of being out-dated and too old to be able to do it all...

It would be like telling an NFL player that it's OK if he can't really catch anymore, because he's still really quick.

Or telling a pilot that it's OK if he doesn't understand how to fly airplanes made after 2005 because he's still got the preceding years under his belt.

Or telling Barbie that even though she's going gray, she's still America's favorite blond (this might be a stretch).

I'd imagine the frustration my doctor felt must be how these experts must be feeling. They realize that there must be some sort of correlation, and yet, they can't quite place it. They just can't quite figure it out.

While I wait for the eye doctor to find a solution, I will commiserate with the concerned triathletes. It makes me feel better if I think about the fact that my eye-ache is just too advanced for doctors today. I'm bettering medicine by making them dig deeper. Well, this is just the way I see it...but let's be honest, my vision is a little shady as I only have one perfect eye.

take it from history

"How about I read you a little bit of my favorite poetry? Cocktails at Tiffany's calls for classic charm. Oscar de la Renta sleeveless silk full skirted dress with black patent leather bow belt. Now that is pure poetry." Carrie Bradshaw

After running the Chicago marathon in the hottest temperatures in race history, I can safely say I have very little desire to complete another marathon for quite some time. (The article claims the temperature was 88 degrees, but I promise you when we ran through Little Mexico, it was over 90).

However, while my marathon itch has been successfully scratched, I must admit that it's still nice to be able to say I've run a marathon.

Non-runners generally are stunned for about twenty seconds, then they say, "Wait, you mean a half-marathon right?" or "Not, like, 26 miles, though...right?"

With runners, it's just as rewarding, because when you tell those who have also done a marathon about your accomplishment, you have the insta-bond. No matter the difference in time or location, there is still an understanding that passes through the conversation. A feeling that you have both experienced extreme discomfort, and yet, the way you felt once you crossed the finish line made it all worth it.

I've decided that being able to say you've completed the task, combined with the mutual-experience-bond must be the only reason that anyone would ever want to get on board the WhiteKnightTwo (aka Eve, named after his mom) with Sir Richard Branson.

Yes, it would be cool to be able to say you've been in space. And yes, it would be a serious bonding experience with those around you. But, there is no way you could pay me to be the guinea pig for this idea.

And, furthermore, not only is Mr. Branson not paying his sweet little test drivers, but the passengers are paying him...

...$200,000

Aka the cost of four years of college at not just Indiana University, but the University of Chicago as well.

Aka almost enough to buy a Ferrari 575M Maranello and more than enough to buy the Porsche GT2, which, mind you, is being called the fastest car ever (don't let my Jeep Liberty fool you, now, I'm a car guru...)

Or, most importantly, you could buy 118 of Oscar de la Renta's White Double Face Linen Strapless dresses from his Resort 2009 collection (I may have lied about the cars. But clothes, I know.) Granted, if you want the belt and shoes to accompany the dress, you can only have 74 of them. But, hey, I'd be happy with just one.

And yet, there are some people who would cash in the college, cars and clothes in order to spend a few minutes checking out the moon.

OK.

I admit it. It would be cool the see the moon.

But for now, I think I'd rather sit in my Porsche while wearing my Oscar dress (and belt...but not shoes, not in the Porsche!) as I thumb through a picture book of the moon. I trust Neil Armstrong.

THE american idol

In 2002, YouTube did not exist. Neither did Facebook, TMZ or Gawker. Britney and Christina were still two battling pop princesses. And Nick and Jessica were planning their wedding.

...Oh how times have changed.

2002 also marks the start of American Idol.

What is now not just a TV show, but an empire, with Ford, Coca-Cola, AT&T- and now Edy's- all contributing to it's reign.

Currently hosting auditions for the eighth season, Simon, Randy and Paula show no signs of handing over the crown any time soon, either.

While I admit that I was an avid fan of Season 1 (front row tickets at the concert, mind you) I can't help but wonder if it might be time to call it quits. While it might initially appear that they should continue as they are- with a high number of viewers and outstanding ratings- it seems to be losing some of it's triumph.

The winners aren't really idols in America anymore. While Kelly, Carrie and Katharine are enjoying success, Ruben Studdard and Taylor Hicks are hardly leading lives I'd aspire to have.

Kelly is lucky, she was the first American Idol. She is the original face of the show. It's definitely not as powerful to be the sixth or seventh (or possibly someday 100th) American Idol.
Besides, it would be sweet to be the tenth and final American Idol. I can only imagine the ratings for the the last season. I bet even Kelly would come back to perform- maybe she and Justin Guarini would do a duet.

I was thinking about auditioning for the eighth season, but instead I think I will stick with the true American way- I'm going to hope to be in the right place at the right time. It worked for Britney...