Oh the Power of "O," and I Don't Mean Oprah

Not sure, but I think my mom has a crush on someone other than my dad:


She is a faithful Dr. Oz viewer.

I like Dr. Oz OK, but I do not record his shows.

My mom does. And then she tells me all about them. Sometimes I'm not a very enthusiastic Dr. Oz show re-tell receiver.

Today, for example, when I went to bring them a few groceries and meds, she asked me to watch a segment on preventing ovarian cancer. I confess I was not enthusiastic about this, since my friend Diane passed due to that killer. I pretty much hate the topic.

But a few months back, I made a remark something like this to my mom, "Since I'm through with menopause, if I could, I'd just have the ovaries removed. Then I would never have to worry that the silent killer was after me. I think that should be an optional surgery." Obviously, I was very emotional.

Ever since then, she has been afraid I will actually try to get a doc to take them out. I assured her I was just rambling. Even so, she brings up the topic quite a bit.

The segment today was about a diet that helps keep ovarian cancer at bay and may even eradicate the cancerous cells.

One of the diet staples is endive, which I do not think I have ever eaten.



Studies of more than 62,000 women in the Netherlands have found those who ate endive had a 75% reduction in the risk of ovarian cancer. That's a pretty substantial claim, wouldn't you say? Supposedly, all it takes is 2 half-cup servings per week to do the trick. You're supposed to eat it raw. Dr. Oz says it tastes a little like cabbage.

Well, I say it can't hurt to try it. Of course, I'll never know if it's really keeping the disease away.

But it will make my mom feel good, and that's worth it to me.

I wonder ... someday ... what would MY children do just for my sake--just to put my mind at ease? Only time will tell!

Granddog

I have a granddog. Her name is Bailey. She is a Wheaten Terrier.

She belongs to this couple, my son, Jordan, and his girlfriend, Natalie:


When she grows up, she will look something like this:


Right now, she looks exactly like this:


It has been interesting seeing my son care for this baby puppy, including getting up in the middle of the night to take her out.


Zoe is not sure about her ... niece??

Not that she feels sorry for herself. {Sigh} But sometimes, she just feels as though she blends in with the background when Bailey's around. Actually, she does blend in with the background most of the time.

The new granddog is adorable, but Tiny Tater Tot is still number one in my heart.

Haircut: 1 Month

This is my "one month checkup," thus the #1 in the pic. Let me explain. Maybe you can relate.

It has never been thick or luxurious. I joke that I have the same exact amount as I did when I was 6 months old. But I guess I'm more attached to it than just by the root.

Oh, the hair woes of cut and color that I have known.

On August 16, I got it cut, and I have been mentally flogging myself ever since. I do not like the haircut.

"What?" you say. "Big deal! Get over it! It's only hair! It will grow back! Be thankful that you have some!"

Yes, yes, yes, yes and yes.

But I don't like the haircut. Never doing it again. I will let it grow into three long scraggly strands and braid them up on my head-- or whatever I do in the future, I will NOT cut it like this again.

We went to the Columbus Zoo a few days before the cut. Here is what it looked like. Again, not great hair, but OK hair.



Then I went to see my new stylist (who fixed me up for Katie's wedding in June, as seen here. I loved this look):



So I LOVE my stylist. She is a great person and great stylist. This unhappiness is not her doing. I agreed we should take up the back a little to make it look healthier and a little more trendy. And here is what it looked like the next day:



I had cutter's remorse. I felt like a 50 year old boy, which is bad, since A)I'm a woman and B) I'm only 48. Somehow, I just felt less feminine, and a little exposed.

I felt like:



And that weekend, I had my 30th class reunion, and here's what it looked like:



Oh good merciful heavens. I hate that above pic with a white-hot hatred rivaled only by the white-hot hatred of my ghostly white skin.

The thing is, my hair grows very slowly. Some people swear it all grows about the same length per month, but I disagree. I will have this length for MONTHS.

So to prove myself either right or wrong, I'm going to take a pic every month to chronicle the growth or nongrowth, whichever.

So here is Month 1:



Yes, it's brassy. That's because I desire a warm blonde, not ashy or champagne. I'm ok with brassy.



And just in case you can't tell how much growth there is, here it is in "heat map."



I am not happy wearing it straight. I am not happy turning it under. I am not happy flipping it back, as it is here:



This is how I feel when I leave every morning for work: "I hope this doesn't look too weird." And every time I see myself in the mirror, on the inside, I'm making this face.



So here is haircut vs. 1 month. NOT MUCH DIFFERENCE.



I've had worse. I've had orange hair done by a salon of high reputation. I've cut my own hair worse. I've won a "Worst Bed Head" contest. Still, I am not a happy haircut camper. It's my blog, and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to, cry if I want to ....

I'm living with it because I have to. If I weren't an old lady, I'd get extensions.

So what can I do? Nothing. I just can't wait to see how long it actually takes to grow out again. And so, being a glutton for punishment, I'm chronicling the re-growth here.

What's your bad cut/color story?

The Annoying Earworm--or the Song You Must Turn Off

Dictionary Definition for Earworm: A song or tune that gets stuck in one's mind and repeats as if on a tape, also called cognitive itch, sticky tune.

We've all experienced the earworm phenomenon. And if you are over 40, I'm betting that the popular Coke song of the 70s song lodged itself in your brain for the long haul. That song always made me feel uncomfortable--giving me the same heebie jeebies as a doll with evil intentions. It was as innocuous as a folk song sung by a Flower Child on a mountain top, and yet it was as creepy as a cult incantation:



Question: What is your most recent earworm--or what is the one song you MUST turn off or your ears will bleed?

My current "sticky tune" is "Moves Like Jagger" by Maroon 5. But I don't mind because I'm a Maroon 5 fan. In fact, the "whistle" intro is now my ringtone. So I don't mind that this song is in a loop in my head even as I am trying to concentrate on writing to you right now.

But we don't always get to choose our cognitive itch; it chooses us. Sometimes it's the theme of your preschool child's favorite TV program or a school's fight song. After writing that, I'm glad my earworm is Adam Levine and not Barney the Dinosaur.

There is one song, however, that I cannot stand to hear even once, and this is the backstory of how I came to hate it.

When I was a young teenager, I'm guessing about 14, the lady across the street from us was going through a divorce. In what I can only imagine was a broken-hearted, bleary-eyed stupor, she played one song over and over and over and over ... surely as loudly as her stereo would go. All day long, for WEEKS, the song drifted in through open windows and doors up and down our street. I felt like I was going to lose my teenage mind. Everyone was talking about it; nobody did anything about it.

At some point, the torture stopped. At least it stopped in real time. But whenever I hear the opening chords of this song, I am back in my driveway in cut-offs with my long stringy hair and disastrous attempts at make up. And I'm looking across the street at that plain white house with every window and door open, hearing this song blare from a mammoth stereo, gritting my teeth in frustration. To this day, when I hear the first few notes, I go to any length, scramble every way, knocking over hairspray bottles, tripping on cords, stepping on the dog, to shut it OFF.

This post officially makes Gordon Lightfoot the performer of my two least favorite songs in the universe: "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," and ... "Sundown." Oh, the torture!

May I Pinterest You in Learning About a New Social Network Time Squanderer?

Pin It
Blogging is on the wane, I believe. It's like the old cordless phone you keep around and use occasionally but do not rely on ever since you emotionally soldered your cell phone to your psyche.

Facebook is going strong, and Twitter itself is "trending" bigger than ever.

But just when I thought I was safe from spending more time staring at this screen, along comes Pinterest.

Also known by me as, "I gotta have my pictures!"

The best way to describe Pinterest is to blatantly steal words from Pinterest:

Pinterest lets you organize and share all the beautiful things you find on the web. People use pinboards to plan their weddings, decorate their homes, and organize their favorite recipes.

Best of all, you can browse pinboards created by other people. Browsing pinboards is a fun way to discover new things and get inspiration from people who share your interests. To get started, request an invite.

First of all, why is this available by invitation only? It's not a black tie gala. It's a giant bulletin board in the sky. It's as big as the Web, and the Web is not checking credentials before you enter. So I don't get the secret society shadow that hovers over Pinterest.

Anyway.

My friend invited me to join, and since I'd already been seeing others post on Facebook about Pinterest, I was curious.

Soon I got the gist of it and started pinning my pretties to my boards.

Pinning pretties has turned into "Gotta get more pictures! More, more, MORE!!"

Check out this great combo of taupe and coral for Fall--LOVE. And Starbucks, too? What the WHUT?! I'm so into this outfit that I want to pin it to my style board even though I've already pinned it. I can't contain my enthusiasm for this ensemble. Or pinning.

I learned that you can put a small Pinterest icon in your toolbar and whenever you're browsing the Web and see something you adore, you can pin it to a board from that website. THIS MAKES GRABBING MORE PICS EVEN EASIER!!

LOOK! It's a picture of an Amy Tan book I just read and loved. And now ... I have a picture of it!

I have the following boards: Music, Classic Films & Movies, Favorite Places & Spaces, My Style, Books, Products & Activities I Love, Favorite Foods/Recipes, For the Home (Which is currently bare) and White. Yes, White.

White is the first of my boards that I will be doing by color. Do not ask me why I thought this was a good idea. Perhaps I thought I'd be teaching preschool and need boards of color?

These earrings are featured on "My Style" board. Aren't they adorable??

I noticed that other people name their pages whimsical names like, "Cottage Dreams," "Outward Bound," "Bucket List," "Plottings and Plannings," "Get Crafty," etc. But I was all jazzed about "White." That's kind of embarrassing. I'm going to have to dress up my boards with cool names. Maybe "White" will become "Alabaster Dreams." Maybe "Stuff I Like" will become "J'adore!"

All I know is, in 3 days, I have pinned 142 items, none of which I will ever purchase, cook, wear or be seriously inspired by. But I gotta have the pictures. I'm outta control.

I can't figure out why this is so appealing to me. But I have a sneaking feeling it has to do with fantasy purchasing. I'm the Michael Jackson of Pinterest, pointing to outrageously expensive knick knacks, saying, "I'll take that and that and that ...."

And right now, I'd like to take this piece of key lime pie to my mouth, but I can't, so I'll just collect a picture of it.




I also have a feeling that I have entered a grown-up version of the Pokemon craze, in which theme was "Gotta catch 'em all!" Sound familiar? Hey--maybe I should pin Pokemon characters on a new board entitled, "Stuff my kids liked in 1996!"