The squirrel hasn't lost any weight

Two years, I wrote a blog post entitled, "The 800-pound squirrel in the room," that explained why packing/unpacking for an ADDer is a comedy for others to enjoy and the afflicted to endure. Here's a sample of that post: 

Unpacking a box with clothing, I decide to sort them into two piles: stuff I can wear and stuff I wish I could still wear (wink, wink). 'Oh, I should put these into another tub to put back into storage...'

I remember there is empty tub in the bedroom and wander in there to get it. I spot a box with stuff for the bathroom and pick it up and take it into the bathroom, where I unpack it.

Then I go back into the bedroom where I found the box and start to sort the socks before I put them into the dresser. As I'm doing that, I notice that I haven't found the pillows for my bed yet and go back out into the living room to find the pillows, only to notice that I never got the tub for the "non-fitting" clothes.  

Packing for this move is following a similar pathway. I was doing great at the start, but now that I'm down to random odds and ends and the stuff I need to keep unpacked for day-to-day life, I'm kinda sucking at it. 

It's been one of my goals with this project to throw things away and not move something for a third time that I haven't touched or needed. Strangely enough, spices fell in this category. As I was cleaning out the cupboards and got to my so-called spice shelf, I seriously looked at the labels on the spices. If I had to guess the average age of my stash, I would go with 8 to 10 years old. 

Unlike last time where I had stuff in three different places, I have simplified my life to two two and 1/2 different places. The storage unit in Albert Lea (200 sq ft) is about 75% full; my garage has been coverted in to a staging area where I'm putting all the boxes and bins that are full and then the rest is in the apartment - some in half-full boxes, some sitting on a table waiting for its fate to be determined and the rest that have to remain unpacked until the last moment. 

I pray that no emergencies happen that would require a clear pathway in or out of my apartment. If so, I'm doomed. 

No flowers, please.

I think sending flowers for a funeral is a dumb idea. If you didn't send flowers when they were alive, why are you doing it now?  I can hear the skeptics saying, "But the flowers are for the living."

Really? You are sending something that will wither and die in a few days to someone who has just lost someone. Is that supposed to cheer them up?

I believe in our shallow parts, we think the number of bouquets of flowers that show up at the funeral home represents how important or beloved or connected our loved one was. Maybe we need that physical reminder because our grieving minds cannot hear the word of sympathy and love that are being spoken.

I'm not saying don't send something, but think about sending a plant instead. When my dad passed away 18 years ago (yesterday), several friends sent plants instead of flowers. Each of us kids took one or two home. When you walk through the front door of my sister Sue's house, you'll see a very healthy, 18-year-old spider plant hanging in the entry way. My plant was a peace plant that lasted about five years. (People with ADD are generally not good with plants or candles - tend to forget about them)

It's also important to remember that a $100 funeral bouquet in the big city (Minneapolis/St. Paul) turns into a very large funeral bouquet when ordered from a small town florist (Albert Lea). When my dad passed away in 1994, I was working for Fairview Health System in the Cities and my brother Dennis was working for SciMed (Now Boston Scientific). Both of our employers sent flowers for Dad's funeral in Albert Lea. You couldn't miss them at Bonnerup's (the funeral home), they were huge.

Now that I've convinced you that shouldn't send flowers when I die (I won't send flowers to your funeral if you won't send them to mine...), I just want to leave you with one more instruction. (at least for now, I'm not planning on dying anytime soon, so the list might expand) Please, please, please do not use my 1979 high school graduation picture for the obit. I don't want people to think I died with Farrah hair.

You'll never understand

You'll never understand because I don't think I even understand why I choose to be a figure skating judge.

Let me be clear, I know that I continue to be a judge because I love the sport and have become friends with people I would never have had the opportunity to meet, if not for being a judge.

What I question is my sanity for wanting to advance as a judge. There are various levels and disciplines for skating judges and to be "promoted" (quotes due to the fact that it is a volunteer position), you have to trial judge.

Trial judging means that you go to a select competition and pretend you're one of the officials judging the event. After the event, you compare your marks to that of the official panel and then talk about what you did within a small group (usually other trial judges) and explain why you did what you did. The discussion is led by a JET.

I won't leave you wondering how airplanes can talk or how we get the plane into the ice rink. JET stands for Judges Education and Training and our upper level judges volunteer to serve as a JET at these select competitions. The right JET can make or break your trial judging experience. I've been fortunate during my experiences to have a great JET 90% of the time. I choose to mentally block out the times when the JET makes you feel like you're a complete idiot or you watch as they rip another trial judge to shreds.

The optimal outcome for a trial judge is to agree with the official panel and have your marks in range with theirs. But you also have to able to defend your decisions. And when you have ADD, that isn't always easy. (short term memory can be impacted by ADD)

I traveled to Ann Arbor this past weekend to trial judge a synchronized team skating competition. Being a Synchro trial judge is a challenge because unlike Singles and Pairs (regular skating for you Muggles), you only have two or three select competitions all year to trial judge while Singles and Pairs usually have 6 or 7.

Trialing can be an emotional roller coaster as you stress about your marks and what you say in post-event discussion. Did I sound like an idiot? What will the JET think of my answer? (generally you pray that the JET doesn't call on you unless you're sure you have the right answer.) If one of your marks is out of range for the official panel, you would be asked to explain.  In other words, please explain what you were thinking during the 20 seconds of an element you saw an hour ago.

It's important to take notes. It is equally important to be able to read your notes when called upon by the JET. "I can't read my writing" or "I don't remember why I did that" are not acceptable answers. I've also learned to admit when I made a mistake.  

It's expensive to trial judge because trial judges have to pay their own travel expenses. Airfare from Minneapolis to Detroit runs between $350-$400 round trip, and a hotel room is about $100 per night. Generally the host club requires trial judges to pay a fee to cover the added expense of having trial judges. I've paid anywhere from $20 to $100 for a two-day competition.

And you don't just do one competition in a season. Oh no, you would generally do two or three competitions in a season if you want to get the promotion before you hit retirement age. So take the afore mentioned costs and multiple them times three. So you have to get creative. I was able to afford this past weekend because I found a last minute $200 roundtrip airfare, I had a friend who let me stay with her in her hotel room, and I split the cost of car rental with another trial judge - she got a killer deal of $35 for the entire weekend.

I had a couple of stressful moments this past weekend after hearing one of the official judges talk about her marks for an event and realizing that I was much lower than her. When I was finally able to see the final results, I was indeed lower than her, but there were 6 judges on the panel and not all of them were as high in their marks.

So I guess I didn't have to drown my sorrows at the bar that night, but it sure felt good.

Bad blogger feeling good about what I did

I'm very much feeling like a neglectful blogger. I haven't posted since September 26th. And there are plenty of reasons excuses for the absence.

My number one excuse is <wait for it now ...> I was distracted. I had a huge skating project that I can honestly say I was ill-prepared for and was basically flying by the seat of my pants. My own stubbornness put me in this position and I had a lot to do that I couldn't delegate to anyone else because I hadn't even figured it out for myself.

When I have something hanging over my head, my focus <at least the very little that I have> goes right out the window. Add to that I was stressing about it, so just as I would get into bed, my brain would fire up and start problem solving while my body wanted and needed sleep. It was bad.

Excuse number two is see excuse number one.

The project was the Minnesota Basic Skills Competition Series. It is for our beginning skaters (you know, those cute little ones with the cute little outfits that make you go, "Aww...") and I took it on because "the powers that be" wanted to make it exclusive instead of inclusive.  I'm not about excluding any club or any skater. I recognize that I wasn't fabulously organized at the start, but eventually things started moving forward. Then, this summer, I got word that the rug was being pulled out from underneath me and I would have to shutter the series after one year.

The final part of the series is the on-ice award ceremony for the skaters in each level who accumulated the most points. Honestly, I think it is the most important part because it's about the kids and only the kids. They get to skate out to the podium just like they see on the Olympics. I placed a medal around their necks and told them what a great job they did and then I would step out of the way so the parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles in the stands could take photos. And boy did they!

But the event is over now with some minor clean-up to do, but most importantly, I felt great at the end because I helped to make some young skaters feel very special and I had parents thank me for doing it. Having a parent thank me? That was huge.

I've heard that the new Basic Skills series (the one replacing the Minnesota Basic Skills series) isn't planning on doing the on-ice awards. They planned to just mail the awards out to the skaters or something. After seeing what it meant to these skaters this past Saturday, I am happy to hear that they are reconsidering it.

Ya gotta take those little victories.

The 800-pound squirrel in the room

www.nataliedee.com

I'm in the midst of an adventure that I less-than-lovingly call The Never-Ending Move.  This past weekend, I was finally able to move into my new apartment in NW Rochester.  It has not been an easy move and it has certainly not been a very well organized move.

Since I started my job in Rochester and put my Saint Paul condo on the market last fall, my worldly goods have been scattered to various locations.  In this case, various locations means three locations - a storage unit in Albert Lea, my sister's place in Mantorville and the Saint Paul condo.

I wish I could say that there was a thoughtful and organized plan behind it all, but there wasn't.  I took whatever I thought I couldn't live without to my sister's; put whatever seemed to be clutter at the condo in storage and left the rest in Saint Paul.

Now it's time to bring everything back together and I can honestly tell you, I'm a mess. The condo is a mess and I have no idea where anything is right now.

Two weeks ago, I packed up a few things from the Saint Paul condo (enough to fill the PT Cruiser) and then last weekend, we grabbed several boxes and pieces of furniture from the storage unit and put them into a trailer. I spent many hours last week, organizing my belongings at my sisters and prepared for the move.

Saturday morning, I unloaded the trailer into my garage and started moving things into the new place.  Since I was on my own on Saturday, I would carry up a couple of boxes and then unpack them before I go back down for another load.

Sunday was designated for moving the furniture and belongings from my sister's place. Due to unfortunate circumstances, my sister Sue and my nephew Riley had to help me move. Riley and his baseball team were supposed to be playing in the state tournament, but didn't make the final cut, so instead Sue and Riley got to help me move. (I swear I did not pray for that to happen, but I was thankful for the help)

In about 90 minutes, we got all the boxes into the apartment and got the bed set up. After that I sent Sue and Riley on their way (to Flapdoddles).

That's when the 800 pound squirrel broke into my house.

There must have been 50 boxes scattered between the kitchen, living room, bathroom, bedroom and office (oh, and the closets). Logically, you would take a box, unpack it, put things away and move on to the next box.

Logically isn't an adverb used for most people with ADD, at least not in the face of mountains of boxes. Here's an example of how my "unpacking" went yesterday.

Unpacking a box with clothing, I decide to sort them into two piles: stuff I can wear and stuff I wish I could still wear (wink, wink).
     'Oh, I should put these into another tub to put back into storage...'

I realize there is empty tub in the bedroom and wander in there to get it. I spot a box with stuff for the bathroom and stop to pick it up and take it into the bathroom, where I unpack it.

Then I go back into the bedroom where I found the box and start to sort the socks before I put them into the dresser. As I'm doing that, I notice that I haven't found the pillows for my bed yet and go back out into the living room to find the pillows, only to notice that I never got the tub for the "non-fitting" clothes. 

At this rate, I might be unpacked by Labor Day.

My ADD Brain

The more I've learned about having ADD, the more I've learned about myself.

I have personality traits that some might call behavioral traits (okay, they call them problems, but I'm working on being positive here.)

One of those "traits" (personality or behavioral, you choose) was a point of discussion last week.  I was told that I'm too aggressive in conversations and that I cut people off.  I thought about that comment a lot this weekend and tried to remember instances. 

I've learned (by reading too many books on the topic) that a person with ADD may be considered abrupt or short because our brains have already finished your sentence for you. We don't think that we cut you off, because in our brains, you were already done. We may even think that we paused for a moment before we spoke.  

One of our other "brain traits" is the ability to lose track of what we were saying in the middle of sentence. But we ADD people are tricky because we won't let on that we've lost our train of thought, we'll just keep talking until we re-link with the thought and get back on track. We are the kings & queens of the run-on sentence. 

Unless, of course, in the middle of that run-on sentence, you distract us with a shiny object or small, furry rodents. 

So, I apologize to those whose sentences I cut-off or interrupt. You may take it as being rude. I like to think of it as being simpatico with my co-workers. 

The Golden Squirrel Award Rides Again

Distracted doesn't even begin to cover my life in the past six weeks.  There's been plenty of travel for work and skating along with some rather challenging life decisions that have kept me away from the blog. 

There is one thing that I know about myself; when my life is feeling out of control, I don't write or journal anything and that creates this vortex of not writing and not feeling in control that goes on incessantly.  I need to have the Moonstruck Cher slap me and tell me to "snap out of it!" 

So I'm back to start writing again. I have to - this is like therapy for me. 

My diet is totally off track and I haven't been working out. I'm running out of clothing that fits and I don't want to buy larger sizes (because I'll only be wearing them a short time because my diet starts tomorrow! - Ha!).

The biggest distraction has been my search for housing. I made the decision a couple of months ago that I had to move out of my sister's basement before I was a size 20. I blame her great cooking and the endless supply of Little Debbie Nutty Bars.  

I haven't had to do an apartment search for many years and I had never done one outside of the metro area. I was spoiled by the abundance of apartments in the Twin Cities area and the guidebooks that help you find them. The Rochester area lacks both. 

I started with an Internet search and found out that "luxury" means expensive and small, but with underground, heated parking.  I already knew from my years on St. Paul's Grand Avenue that "classic" means it's an old apartment with several coats of paint covering all light switches and outlets. 

I toured three beautiful luxury townhome rentals, all out of my price range, but so convenient to work that I was trying to rationalize signing a lease.  One of the three advertised "resort-style living" with lots and lot amenities at top dollar.

I started contacting realtors to see if they had properties that had been on the market and not moving that they might want to rent out. My brother-in-law has connections in the construction industry because of his plumbing business. He checked with a couple of his buddies and found me a two bedroom townhouse for $725 a month! Wow! It was a 55+ community, but they had some flexibility.  Unfortunately, when I drove past the place, there was a LARGE banner on the side of the garage that read "Elderly Rental Townhomes." Elderly??!! Who is doing their marketing? I know 90-year-olds who don't want to be called "elderly." Crossed that one off my list. 

Then a co-worker suggested searching for property management companies.  I did and I found all new places not on any other lists. I found a house three block from the office that was a bit higher in price, but what I would save on parking and gas easily made up the difference.  There was also a beautiful classic apartment five blocks away from the office that had hardwood floors and parking included, but neither the house or the classic apartment had a washer/dryer in the unit. Deal breaker!

And none of the place I had looked at allowed dogs. Cats were fine, but dogs weren't allowed. I don't have a dog, but I want to get one.  I don't understand why cats are allowed when they stink up the inside of a place and dogs generally don't. (news alert: I'm not a cat person)

Finally, I found a two-bedroom condo for rent that is on the bus line, has a washer/dryer in the unit, attached heated garage and allows dogs. I found out today that they accepted my application and starting July 8th, I will have a new home! Yeah!!!

So now this distraction is done and the new "getting ready to move" distraction will start. 

And oh, yes, that little detail of selling my St. Paul condo...

My medications and the legal system

When you hear about the safeguards that are in place to reduce the number of meth labs in the state or to prevent abuse of controlled substances, they make sense.

They make sense until they become the brick wall preventing you from carrying on with your day-to-day life. And when you hit two walls in one day, you're going to walk away with a headache.

As I mentioned in my last post, I have a cold. Yesterday, I visited my friendly Target store and purchased cold medicine. As my purchases were being rung up, I was asked for my ID. The clerk scans my ID, which I'm told goes into a state database to track purchases of medicines with pseudoephedrine. Since pseudoephedrine is used to make meth, it's been regulated since about 2005. And the law has had an impact. 

Today it had an impact on me. I forgot to bring my medication with me to work and if I tried to purchase more today, a red flag would have been waved or something and a black mark would have been put on a permanent record as a possible drug lord. I thought maybe I could just go over and sneeze or cough on them in order to convince them I have a legit reason to purchase said medication. 

I had two options. I could ask a friend to go and buy the medication for me or I could ask around to see if anyone had any spare Sudafed. I felt like a high school student looking for someone to buy me some Boone's Farms Easy Nights. Luckily, a co-worker had a spare dosage that he shared with me and I made it through the day. 

I ran into a second brick wall today when I was calling in to get my Concerta prescription refilled. Concerta is a controlled substance, so they make you jump through hoops to get it, never mind the price of about $2.00 a pill (that's with the discount). One of the nurses called me back to verify some details. 

Nurse: "I have the last prescription filled in January. Is that correct?"

Me: "Yes."

Nurse: "That was a thirty-day refill?"

Me: "Yes."

Nurse: "Back in January?"

Me: "Yes, I'm not very good about always taking my ADD medicine. I get easily distracted."

Nurse: "Okay."

Me: "Plus I have ADD, so I'm really bad about calling in to order a refill."

Nurse: "Okay. Well, if everything is in order, I'll have the doctor sign the script and you can pick it up tomorrow." 

If everything is in order? I've been taking the darn medication for years and the one thing that I find absolutely ironic is a medication for people with ADD requires them to remember to call in for refills. Seriously. 

 

It's the Holiday Season

It will be a strange holiday for me. New job, new town and a temporary living arrangement.  So, I'll have a Christmas tree, but it won't be my Christmas tree since I'm living at my sister's. Who, by the way, really gets into decorating the house for the holiday, as I witnessed when she pulled tub after tub of holiday decor out from storage. This ADD kid got a bit overwhelmed by it all.

Christmas is really very distracting for those with ADD as it is truly the holiday of bright shiny objects! Lights, tinsel and ornaments. 

I'll be honest and say that there were many years when I didn't even put up holiday decorations if I was too busy or not in the mood. Besides, the last thing I would need is something to further distract me. Plus I think single people have to be really motivated to decorate for the holidays.

If your home is small (like my condo), trees can take up a lot of space. I own two "wall trees" that I would hang on my ever-gawdy mirrored wall. These are half trees, so on the wall, they sort of looked fuller - or at least I thought so.

The two trees have different themes. One is my angel tree and the other - no big surprise to anyone who knows me - is a skating tree. (Suddenly I get a visual of tree skating, but I digress.) 

I am SO NOT an angel person, but WAY back in 1988, my mom - who is also a holiday fanatic and should have owned stock in Hallmark - started giving me a Hallmark ornament series - Mary's Angels. As those you who are good with numbers have figured out, I have 21 of these ornaments, with #22 under the tree (hopefully). They are named for flowers and the first one was Daffodil. At least that's my memory of it. I can't be sure because all of my holiday decorations are packed away in a storage unit about 100 miles away from where I am right now. (The photos here are from a website called "Hooked on Hallmark")

I remember opening the gift and looking closely at the ornament and getting a weirded out feeling when I saw the artist's signature on the bottom of the ornament - Mary -was dead-on to my signature when I sign my full name Mary Elizabeth. If you look closely at the ornaments, they also have a very tiny, ridiculously small triangle with a number in it that tells you what number it is in the series.  Even when my eyes were younger, I couldn't read it.

My other tree is the Skating tree that has so many ornaments that I may have to get a bigger tree to hold all of them.  Many of the ornaments were gifts (hmmm, what do you give a skating judge at Christmas???) and sadly, I might not be able to tell you from who or when I got them - except for one. It was the first one and it was also from my mom. It was Christmas 1978 - my senior year in high school. Mom and I were at the Hallmark store at the Mall and I spotted the ornament and begged her to buy it. I really wanted something special to remember my senior year and an ornament with a skating theme seemed perfect. It hung on the family tree for many years. I don't remember precisely when she gave it to me for my own tree, but I've had on my tree for at least the last 10 years.  

It, too, is packed away in storage, in its original box with an old rubber band wrapped around it (that was how my mom would secure all the ornament boxes).  Mom wrote on the back of the box the date it was purchased and "This is Mary's." And it is.

I'm A Shopping Machine

I am not, in any way, a power shopper. No one with ADD could be a power shopper as there are far too many shiny objects out there to distract us. But it doesn't keep me from shopping on Black Friday (and Saturday)

I will also claim that I'm not one of those crazy people who stands outside of Target or Best Buy or any other big box store for "doorbuster deals." (How can it be a doorbuster if the deal lasts until 1 p.m.? hmmm???)

I've seen the people camped out in front of Target on Thanksgiving Day. I have to wonder if the person you are buying for would rather have time with you on Thanksgiving instead of the materialistic item you are waiting for? And if not, are they really worthy of your generosity?

Traditionally, I go Black Friday shopping with my two sisters and while we check out the ads and plan our travels around town, we start very slow, with breakfast at 8 am and then shopping by 9 am. 

This year, my sister Chris couldn't make it, so her daughter Kelly took her spot.  After a good breakfast at Perkins, we headed to Rosedale. Walking through JC Penney's was a bit disturbing with very, very long line at the registers. We learned from one of the workers that their computer system had crashed about 30 minutes prior and while the system was back online, the programming was messed up and none of the sale prices were ringing up. They had to look up all the sale prices by hand! Talk about a retail nightmare. 

As we exited JC Penney's (without buying anything - not surprising), we walked by a woman with several packages, slumped over on the bench, asleep. Underneath the bench were several empty 1/2 & 1/2 cups, perhaps for the cups of coffee she was trying to ingest to keep her awake.  I would have taken a photo, but thought it would be rude.

Herberger's was almost as bad, except they hadn't had a computer glitch. The lines were long in the housewares department, but not in the women's department, so while others waited 30 minutes in line, we had maybe 5 minutes to wait. Those shoppers were obviously novices! 

When it was time to leave a couple hours later, we discovered that a tire on my sister's car was flat (not until we were driving - ugh!). Got to a service station close by and filled it back up with air.  Re-checking it several times that day and it was solid from that point on. Thus, I concluded that we perhaps ticked someone off by taking the parking spot they wanted and they got their revenge by letting the air out of the tire.

www.nataliedee.com

We spent the afternoon in Woodbury, teasing my sister as she kept referring to it as the Woodbury Outlet Mall. It isn't an outlet mall, it's just outside. 

We ended the shopping day at the Mall of America. I know Black Friday at MOA may strike fear into the heart of many, but we learned long ago that after 5 p.m. on Black Friday, MOA is relatively normal.

We finished the day with dinner at my favorite Hawaiian steak house - Outback Steak House. (That's sort of an inside joke that has to do with my only visit to Hawaii, several margaritas, drunk dialing and lots of time in the bathroom.) 

Kelly had to work Saturday, so Sue and I were on our own. We started at Best Buy at 8:30, but they didn't open until 9. So, we went to the Galleria in Edina (Crate & Barrel, Restoration Hardware, Pottery Barn!), but they didn't open until 10! Ok,back to Best Buy (which was just opening when we got back). After a few hours at the Galleria and lunch at Chipotle, we traversed down I-35 to the Medford Outlet Mall - which really is an outlet mall, but has seen better days - and then to Cabela's to spend quality time looking at stuffed animals. I'll admit the place really creeps me out. 

Finally, we got back to Kasson-Mantorville and our final stop of the day was the Kasson Hardware Hank store.  Yes, I certainly covered the full spectrum of retail from the Galleria to a Hardware Hank store.

Did I get all my shopping done? Hardly - since many of my purchases were for self-gifting.  One of the best gifts I got myself are these "baby beads." They are brightly colored wooden beads that I can fidgety with during long conference calls. Although primarily for babies, the guy did say that people with ADD really like them. Must be the bright colors - now if they were only shiny!

Now I'm Cooking

Well, technically, I'm not cooking, but I'm watching someone who is cooking and learning about cooking and that has to count for something, right?

One of my first Ah Ha! moments after my ADD diagnosis was about why I didn't cook.  I had always shrugged it off to lack of interest or something, but I realized that I shied away from it because it often required multiple steps. I couldn't pay attention for that long.  Forget about baking, too.

A side effect of not cooking is lack of control over what you are consuming. If you're trying to eat healthier, most of the prepared meals out there are poor choices because they are usually high calorie, high fat, and/or high sodium. If you prepare your own meals, you're the one driving the bus.

I figure it's time for me to start driving the bus.

The Dan Abraham Healthy Living Center offers a weekly demonstration called Fit & Flavorful where one of the Mayo executive chefs and a DAHLC dietitian share recipes and nutritional information.  I went to my first class Wednesday entitled, "Sensational Seasonal Fruits" and walked away with three recipes that I think I could actually handle.

Chef Nick started with a Pear, Fig & Spinach Salad (total calories: 253 but with 3.7 g of protein & 10.1 g of fiber).  It was my first experience with figs besides Newtons and I liked 'em. They're pretty cool looking, too.  And according to the nutritionist (Katie), they're pretty high in fiber, iron and calcium. Besides watching the demo of the prep - you get samples! And decent size samples, not like the puny ones you get at Byerly's on Saturdays. 

Next up was Peach Roasted Pork Loin (total calories: 333), but instead of using peaches, Nick used nectarines. I learned that with recipes that use a "stone fruit" - plums, peaches, apricots, nectarines - you can interchange them if you prefer one over the other.  The flavor was great and I think I would do it with nectarines, too (my apologies to all Georgia peaches).

Finally, desert was Granola Stuffed Apple Halves (total calories: 148).  I didn't like this one as much as I thought I would. The recipe has molasses in it and I didn't like the flavor it gave to the granola.  I was surprised that the meat of the apple (or whatever the appropriate term is) stayed white after cooking, but I guess that is a characteristic of Cortland apples.

The next Fit & Flavorful cooking topic is Holiday Veggie Medleys and I'm signed up for that one.

DAHLC offers a whole series of cooking classes called "I Am the Chef" and I hope to register for the next round. They also offer a monthly class called "Wielding a Knife" that sounds a bit dangerous, but perhaps I can be trusted with sharp objects again soon. 

Stay tuned for My Adventures in Cooking (without burning down a house or causing bodily harm).

I Used to Love Politics

I used to love politics, but now I loathe the culture of politics.

And this election cycle has done nothing to renew my passion for the sport... ah... um..., no I'll stay with sport.  Just a very bloody and violent sport.

Our culture and/or society has become so extreme, almost radical. If I tell someone that I'm a Democrat, they automatically assume that I'm far left.  I can't have a decent political debate with anyone any more because few are willing to talk about the issues with an open mind and they spend most of their energy trying to devalue what the other person is saying. 

I would love to see one political ad where the candidate tells you what he/she will do rather than rip into their opponent. They should say what they mean, mean what they say, but they don't have to say it mean. I despise the fact that corporations are throwing money into the campaigns and trying to sway the electorate. I think it just adds to the corruption. 

www.nataliedee.com

Political Science was my minor in college and I pictured myself having a career in politics - not as the candidate, but the political operative. I think I got that from my Dad. He was involved with local politics, but enjoyed the back room politics more than being upfront.

I had an internship in Representative Tim Penny's Mankato office and determined that I like the action of the campaign versus the governance process. (I would guess that is my ADD since campaigns are constantly moving and changing.)

I worked on several campaigns while in college and in the years following. I eventually got a real job out of financial necessity, but enjoyed many conversations with my Dad as we watched the early CNN political talk shows (before they turned into snipefests). 

I'm still a political junkie as I will be watching the election returns this Tuesday night and listening to the analysis and missing my Dad. The first time I realized how much I enjoyed talking politics with my Dad was the night of the 1994 election (when Newt and his boys took over).  He had passed away the previous April, but there were several times that night that I wanted to pick up the phone and call him. 

I don't think my Dad would be enjoying politics anymore either. 

I shall suffer no fools...

(I was just walking around inside my head when I came across a soap box. It was just sitting there, waiting for someone to step upon it and start ranting. Seeing no one else around, I figured what the heck...)

If there is one character trait that I value more than any other, it is intelligence. And it doesn't have to be book learning intelligence. Some people just have it without having to get a Ph.D. (not that there's anything wrong with that...) I love spending time with smart people. Particularly, if they are willing to share what they know.

I divide them into two categories - smart people that can have a normal conversation and those that can't, as they are too busy babbling on about how smart they are. I like the former; not the latter. The second type are usually unable to share information without sounding like they're lecturing. 

I like people with intelligence because what they share usually will get my brain firing and I can stay engaged for long periods of time.

I'm not 100 percent sure why non-intelligent people irritate me so, but I have a very difficult time listening to them as they pretend that they know what they are talking about. I would respect them more if they would just own up, say they don't know, and be open to learning.

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This is really a long build up to tell you how much the Delaware Republican candidate for Senate, Christine O'Donnell, just ticks me off and how I day dream about just slapping the back of her head (Gibbs-slap) and tell her to shut up before she says anything more.

Who is advising this woman? Who thought it would be a good idea to have her do a debate at a law school when she doesn't even know what's in the constitution? I was dumbstruck when she said that the constitution doesn't mention the separation of church and state. It's in the first amendment, so it wasn't even like she had to read the entire document to find it.

Granted, I can't list all of the amendments to the constitution off the top of my head; but hand me my iPhone and I can do it. Cuz you know, there's an app for that and I have it.

What's that old saying? It is better to be quiet and thought a fool then to open your mouth and remove all doubt. 

Christine, there are less than two weeks before election day. I would advise you to stop talking before Saturday Night Live is able to write an entire show around your brand of crazy.

(Stepping off the soap box and exiting stage left...)

Another Week, Another Article on Adult ADHD

I don't search out articles about adult ADHD, but I usually seem to find at least one or two articles a week.  I read them to see how the disorder is presented and to perhaps learn something new. About 90% of the time, the articles will only focus on the negative and never talk about the positive aspects of the disease.

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The most recent article was in this weekend's Parade Magazine and after reading it, I felt compelled to have a giant "L" tattooed on my forehead.

According to the article, I'm eight times more likely than the general population to take dangerous risks, twice as likely to get into traffic wreaks, 50% more likely to be unemployed and earn about $15,000 less than others, have unstable relationships, mood swings, disorganization and am more prone to alcohol and drug abuse.

I guess the alcohol and drug abuse could be true since I'm so depressed about being a messy, unemployed relationship-destroying individual with a smashed up car.

Yes, I'm more likely to take a risk, but by taking those risks, I may find greater opportunities and learn new things.

I know that I'm fortunate to have been diagnosed because I can coach my friends and family on how I communicate, how I learn and what I do as coping mechanisms that they may not understand (Such as when I go to a restaurant, I'll sit with my back to the entrance so I don't spend the entire dinner getting distracted by their newest guest).

Helpful hint to reporters writing about adult ADHD: try to talk about the positives as much as you talk about the challenges. If you don't, you're not really giving an honest portrayal of the individuals living with the disorder.

Switching the Brain On...at the wrong time

So much have been going on in my life in the last 30 days, that I'm starting to be physically exhausted at the end of the day. Logically, I would be sleeping well each night. But I'm not and I'm blaming my brain.

I've talked about all I've learned about ADD and the brain from the books written by Dr. Daniel Amen. His research shows the difference between the ADD brain at rest and when trying to focus. Instead of kicking in when trying to focus, the prefrontal cortex of the ADD brain shuts down when it's supposed to power up. And the reverse is true - when you're not trying to do anything, that's when your brain starts to fire up.

Starting a new job means that I've been learning so many new things and trying to absorb it all. Now, I've been doing okay staying focused during the day thanks to my friend, Mr. Ritalin. What goes wrong happens when I'm trying to sleep, my brain won't shut down.

Tuesday morning, I woke up at 3 a.m. with my brain going full steam, obsessing on leaky bath tub faucet. Seriously! And I couldn't get back to sleep. I would try to push the leaky faucet out of my head only to have it replaced by moving the furniture out of the condo and then to skating stuff.

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I've had episodes of my brain switching on in the middle of the night before. I had many sleepless nights during the months leading up the 2008 U.S. Figure Skating Championships (I was the event chair) and my doctor wrote me a prescription for Ativan. I took it only when I was desperate for sleep. I didn't want to become one of those people who started the day with a stimulant and then end the day with a downer. 

Even worse, Ativan seems to last into the morning and I'm just as tired as I would be if I hadn't taken the medication. Maybe even worse.

I don't hear many other people talking about this type of thing happening to them, so I wonder if it is strictly an ADD issue? Whether it is or not, it is certainly a pain!

I guess I should really take the time to learn meditation to help me on nights like these. Meditation not medication. Ommmmmmm...

I Think I'm Ready

Tomorrow is the day that I start my new job at Mayo Clinic and for some reason, unlike any other job I've started before, it seems a bit surreal. The first two days will be spent in orientation, so it might not seem really real until Wednesday when I'll be sitting at a desk and computer.

The last three weeks have been nonstop activity with finishing my job at Hazelden; packing, cleaning, throwing and selling as much as I could and finally, this weekend was the physical activity of moving boxes and moving me! Since I live up one flight of stairs, my quads and glutes are feeling a bit over-used today.

Because I won't completely move out of the condo until it's sold, I didn't hire a moving company - I recruited my sister to help instead. Not just because she has a truck and not just because I'm moving in with her and her family, but because she's thinks more logically and more linear than I can.

 

My ADD was really taking over these last few days. After packing boxes non-stop for ten days, I couldn't see the forest for the trees. I still had much more to pack, but all the clutter and piles of things to be sorted was overwhelming me and packing was at a stand still. I knew that I wouldn't be able to get any further in the process until all of the boxes and extras were gone and out of my sight.

I could see that the truck might not be enough and rented a U-Haul cargo van for the day. When I told my sister, she thought it might be over-kill.  She thought that until she saw the stacks and stacks of boxes and tubs all around the condo and out in the garage. We completely packed the van full of boxes and small furniture pieces to go to storage and then loaded her truck with boxes for her place.

I loaded up my car today and said goodbye to the Twin Cities.

My sister's home is outside of Rochester in a small town called Mantorville, so it's really going to be small town living. As I drove into town, I experienced my first Mantorville traffic jam - it was Marigold Days, their annual celebration and everyone and their cousin was there. Had I been down here yesterday, I would have been able to attend the Firemen's Dance last night. Maybe next year.

So, it begins tomorrow... I can't wait. 

The 1st Golden Squirrel Award

This week was filled with travel to Chicago for a work conference, but I managed to squeeze some fun in the evenings. The weather was hot and humid - yuck! We did manage to wander onto the set of Transformers 3 that is being filmed in Chicago right now. Lots of trashed cars and Styrofoam rubble (see photo on the left) and production assistants telling you to keep moving. We perhaps dawdled  in order to snap some photos. I was using my iPhone and it wasn't until we were far away from the set that I remembered that I had my Flip video camera with me. UGH!

Now it's my vacation time and I thought I would jump the gun one day and announce the first winner of the Golden Squirrel award. (see my 7/23 blog post for a complete description of this prestigious award)

It's not a person this week, although it might technically be human. It's the one thing that has distracted me for almost as long as I can remember.

It's my hair. In the love/hate relationship that is "A Woman and Her Hair," this week has been mostly hate. The humidity in Chicago didn't help.

My hair has been nearly every possible natural color from blond to goth black.  It has been straight to curly (courtesy of smelly Lilt perms with its sponge wraps).

The worst was when I tried to highlight my hair in junior high school. Clairol had a new product for doing your own highlights; (Frost n' Tip) it was a cap with thousands of tiny little holes and, using a plastic crochet hook, you were supposed to pull your hair through the holes.  It's off the market now, but you can find it still being used in Gitmo for an alternative torture device.

We didn't give up the idea of "frosting" my hair, we just did it without the cap. Portion control was the issue with this - instead of thin strands, we grabbed chunks. It was awful! My 9th grade photo is the only proof I have and I keep the only copy of it locked up and hidden away. I suppose I should destroy the evidence.

I can link my ADD to my variety of hair styles. Unlike other parts of my life, I could control my hair and whenever I was bored with something, I would color or cut or torture it.

Right now my hair is long, but that could change. I colored it this morning and now it's very auburn. 
I picked up an over-priced hair style magazine at the airport yesterday and have started marking the pages. Not sure how short it will go, but it's going to be cut next week regardless.

Then I'll be able to stop being distracted by my hair.

At least for awhile...

The Golden Squirrel

I've been getting a lot of "Squirrel!" comments since I did my "Squirrel! blog post.  Of course, it distracts me from what I'm doing, but it did give me a fun idea.

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I'm going to create a Golden Squirrel award that will given to the person, place or thing that most distracts me during the week. I'll need to find a cool graphic of a golden squirrel to put on the blog and perhaps on a certificate that I can present to someone if they are the person who is most distracting me that week. I'm going to guess that it is more likely to be a place or thing rather than a who, but nevertheless I shall have one prepared. (I love the word nevertheless because it is three words rolled into one!)

Thought I found the perfect graphic above, but then I realized that it is just going to annoy and distract me because it keeps rotating.

So now finding a "golden squirrel" trophy will be my quest during the next couple of weeks. I'm sort of starting my vacation today and I can see this obsession for the golden squirrel leading me to travel to strange places. 

Technically, the vacation doesn't start until next Friday, but I'm in Chicago for work Sunday through Wednesday with a great group of co-workers who will make the conference seems less like work and more like fun!  I'll blog from the conference for this blog and the work blog.

Then Thursday afternoon, I'll start my time off by having the permanent crown put on at the dentist office. (try not to be envious)

After that, the real vacation starts and I'll be sharing the joy that is the Six Best Days of Summer - The Freeborn County Fair in Albert Lea. If you're a city slicker and have never been to a real county fair (going to see either "Carousel" or "State Fair" musicals does not qualify you), you are missing so much. Fear not, I shall share with pictures!

July 30th is also the start of the 2010 Quilt Minnesota State Shop Hop. It's 16 days of fun and shopping. I'll do more than a few posts about these very cool quilt shops.

And to end the day - an amazing sunset over the Target Roseville parking lot. (Sure, I could have left it at "an amazing sunset," but adding the Target parking lot created a certain ambiance for the visual.)

Okay, in just one blog post, I have managed to reference squirrels, quilting, sunsets, musicals, county fairs, Target and Chicago.  Don't you think that takes a certain amount of skill?

Well, I never promised to stay on topic.

Squirrel!

I have good days and I have squirrel! days. I'm fortunate that my squirrel! days don't become squirrel! weeks. Today has been a squirrel! day.

If you haven't seen the animated Pixar film "Up!", you might not understand what a squirrel! day is. 

Meet Doug the dog. His master has given him a special collar that allows him to talk, but he has one small problem - ADD. He gets a bit distracted by things such as small furry rodents and when he's done being distracted, he gets back to you, albeit not as a continuation of the conversation, but starting the conversation again.

In one of the trailers from the movie, he's talking to Carl (the old guy voiced by Ed Asner) "Hi there! My master has given me this special collar so that I may talk...Squirrel!.....Hi there!"

There are many days that I feel like I'm Doug the dog.  

If I'm trying to have a conversation with a person, whether in person or on the phone, do NOT have a window nearby me that I can see out of! Especially if the window looks out on a wooded, grassy area that may contain squirrels, deer, pheasants, or any other type of small woodland creatures.

I was chatting with a co-worker recently and her cube is right by a window on the "garden level" (the nice way to say basement). During our conversation, outside of that window, I spotted a pheasant. Without taking a breathe, I went from talking about a project to how I had never really seen a pheasant that close to our building.  Her comment to me? "Squirrel!" 

It's good to have co-workers who know your weaknesses and can laugh about them with you. 

A Trip to the Dentist

I have a dental appointment this morning to have the prep work done for my very first crown.  I had a root canal done in late March and I'm finally getting around to getting this part of the work done. I blame the delay on my ADD. Most of the day, my teeth are out of sight, out of mind. It's only in the very early morning and at bedtime as I'm brushing (and flossing!) that I remember.

And I shouldn't use ADD as the full excuse because, just like maybe 99% of non-dentists, non-dental hygienists and non-orthodontists, going to the dentist is not something I really look forward to.javascript:void(0)

or maybe I should blame it on painful childhood memories.

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My childhood dentist was a gentleman named Dr. VonBerg. He was always old and I think his nurse was his wife. Up until the time I was about 12, I rarely had cavities (I credited it to the apple tree in our backyard - why? I have no idea). At age 13, I had to get braces put on and I had to have four teeth pulled prior to the installation. That was when my view of Dr VonBerg went from old, gentle guy to very scary guy with long needles. On the day of my first extraction and about 15 minutes after I got my first shot of novacaine, he realized that he had numbed the wrong side.

I was also the worst patient for my orthodontist. I got the braces on when I was 13 and didn't get them off until I was 18. I would always forget to wear my headgear! My monthly appointment was always the same - Dr. Sletten would ask me about the head gear and I would lie and say, "I wear it every night."

I think he tried reverse psychology on me the final year by telling me that I was so close and if I wore my headgear faithfully for the next month, he would take them off the next month.  Sorry, Dr. Sletten, reverse psychology doesn't work on ADD girl.

I finally got my braces off and was amazed at the feeling of my lips sliding down my teeth without get caught in the barb wire. My teeth were nice and straight (my parents were about $1200 poorer) and I've liked my smile ever since.

So, when I started having pain in one of my teeth, my current dentist said that there were two possible options - they could do a root canal and then I would get a crown OR they would have to pull the tooth and I would have to get a bridge.

Absolute mortification! The idea of losing a tooth and looking like a hillbilly with missing teeth was giving me nightmares. And it didn't help that my mom has bridges and when she's tired of having them in her mouth, she'll just pull them out and put them on the end table in her living room. (We always call in advance of bringing guests to visit her and tell her to make sure her teeth are in)

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So, off I go to the dentist and hope it will be somewhat pain-free. I'm thinking the most painful part is paying the bill "at the time of service."