The cicadas stopped

They were the strongest at the end of the first week. All up the side of our 8-story office building. Buzzing by 5th-floor windows. Underfoot as you walked on the sidewalk. Flying by the car while driving down the street, even the expressway.

Then they slowly dwindled. Not so much underfoot, but still a constant hum in the background.

That hum was still there early this week.

Today, it was gone.

I'm sure there will be sporadic sightings for a little while yet, but for the most part, the cicadas are gone. Until the next time -- 17 years from now.

Summer celebrations

Lots of birthdays to celebrate again.

Happy Birthday Heather, "Drake", Eddie, Kyle, Tommy, "Marriott" -- all within a two-week span, and to Peyton, who celebrated earlier this month.

It's Heather's 40th. I'd taunt her, but that sets a bad precedent for when it's my turn.

The class of '87

It's been 20 years since I graduated high school. There was once a day, seemingly not so long ago, when I thought only old people had 20-year reunions.

I'm old.

OK, I'm not really old.

It's all a matter of perspective and mind-set.

But my good-old Class of '87 doesn't seem to be planning a reunion. I'm not sure that I'd really care (since I didn't go to my 10-year reunion), except that a high-school friend emailed me and got me involved in this whole "What's going on with our 20-year reunion?" search. They've orgainzed a message board and a MySpace page. It's a young movement, apparently, with only about a dozen people on the fact-finding mission. And, so far, there are no facts to be discovered. Nada. Zilch.

I think these brave fact-finders are going to discover that they've just volunteered themselves to organize the event. I hope I haven't dragged myself into it, too.

My other 20-year reunion

The 20-year reunion that I'm really excited about is coming up next week. It's the family reunion we're planning in Australia.

My grandfather came to this country to go to college during the Great Depression, leaving behind a brother and three sisters in Australia. To make a long story short, he met my grandmother and decided to stay in the United States. But the ties within the family stayed strong.

In 1987, my grandfather got both his children and all his grandchildren to cross the Pacific with him and visit his siblings and their families in a big gathering of over 50 people. There were three generations: my grandfather and two of his sisters, my Dad's generation of first cousins, and my generation of second cousins.

When my Dad died two years ago, we started planning another big family trip. It turns out my other American cousins can't make it this time, but Dave and I, my Mom, and my sister and her family are all going.

Other cousins are traveling from the far reaches of Australia to attend. I'm not sure how many to expect, but we could easily be at the 50-person mark again. This time, there will be four generations represented: my Great Aunt Edie, the first and second cousins, and now a generation of third cousins.

For me, it'll be my fourth trip (1980, 1987 and 1991), but for my husband and my nephews, it'll be their first. Expect to see more details as the weeks go by. I hope to keep posting while we're there.

The Super Flying Screaming Monkey vs. Godzilla

Have you ever seen or heard a Super Flying Screaming Monkey? It's a stuffed monkey wearing a super hero cape and mask who has a sling shot for arms. When you shoot him across the room, he lets out an ear-piercing scream. Extremely hilarous the first few times. Annoying as all get-out every time after that.

In April, my sister sent me this story that my then-first-grade nephew "Louis" wrote and my other nephew "Drake" typed in.

The Super Flying Screaming Monkey vs. Godzilla


Once there lived the Super Flying Screaming Monkey. He is annoying because he screams in everyone’s face.

One day, he looked outside and saw … Godzilla! Godzilla was terrorizing the city! So he said “This looks like a job for … The Super Flying Screaming Monkey!” He puts on his helmet and cape and dashes out the door. Then he flies through the air and hits Godzilla in the face. After that the monkey starts screaming. Godzilla couldn’t stand the ruckus, so he fled from the city, cupping his hands over his ears. Godzilla was never to be heard from again. The Super Flying Screaming Monkey saves the day!

Maybe "Louis" realized it and maybe he didn't, but when you put the King of Monsters in a story and make him lose, that will get a reaction from the uber-Godzilla fan in the family.

So, on a trip to the mall, we purchased a few Super Flying Screaming Monkeys and that uber-Godzilla fan set to work on the sequel ...

Windy City author websites

The following is a list of websites for authors in my Windy City Romance Writers group. I can't claim credit for compiling it. I believe Fredericka Miners did that:

Denise Swanson: www.DeniseSwanson.com

Myrna Mackenzie: www.myrnamackenzie.com

Cathie Linz: www.cathielinz.com

Lindsay Longford: www.lindsaylongford.com

Melody Thomas: www.MelodyThomas.com

Dyanne Davis: www.scribesworld.com/dyannedavis

Elysa Hendricks: www.geminimoon.org

Teresa MacCarthy: www.teresamccarthy-author.com

Ann Macela: www.annmacela.com

Luisa Buehler: www.luisabuehler.com

Barb Deane: www.barbdeane.com

Kelle Z. Riley: www.kellezriley.com

Allie Pleiter: www.alliepleiter.com

Blythe Gifford: www.blythegifford.com

Jenna Petersen: www.jennapetersen.com

Marie Donovan: www.mariedonovan.com

Susan Elizabeth Phillips: www.susanephillips.com

Todd Stone: www.storytellerroad.com

Ronin Romance Classics...

Too funny. Enjoy!

Odd encounter of the month

So, I'm leaving work last night, and as I'm crossing the parking lot, a kid comes riding up on his bicycle. Had to be about 12 or 13 years old. Junior high age, I'd say. As he rides up, he says something.

"What?" I ask.

"Wanna [insert F-word here]?"

Dumbfounded silence. Huh. More dumbfounded silence. How does someone respond to that?

"No." I keep walking.

"Why?"

Really? Really? He's following that up with a "Why?"

I want to keep my mouth shut. I really do. I know better than to feed the trolls, but I can't help myself.

"Because you're an [insert insult here]."

He continues to ride his bike past me, and I get in my car and drive away.

A million better retorts come to me in the car, but, mostly, I'm puzzled by the whole thing. Does he really expect that line to work? I guess it only takes one time -- and if it works, then that makes me really sad.

Thor's second misadventure

So, four weeks ago, my 3-year-old Berner, Thor, went in to have his teeth cleaned and a mole removed. It was a procedure requiring anesthesia, so he had to stay the day.

There's always risk when a dog (or person) goes under anesthesia, so when I dropped him off in the morning, I was a little nervous. It turns out that I was nervous for the wrong reason. He came out of anesthesia just fine. But, when the vet tech took him outside to do his business, she somehow dropped his leash.

Thor is a shy boy who likes people but is suspicious of their motives. He's a big-time snuggler with us, but he'd rather not let most people near him. So, when the vet tech dropped the leash, he moved away. And when she chased him, he ran.

He ran across a major county route, across a major state route, across a U.S. route, under an expressway, across railroad tracks. We had people out looking for him -- most of the vet's office, the Capuder family, the Clark family, my sister's family. We were always 10 minutes behind him. (We knew, because we were getting consistent reports from people on the street.)

Ultimately, it was because I had a call in with the police that we got him back. A dog owner saw him dodging in and out of traffic, so she followed him in her car and was able to chase him and corner him in someone's backyard, where she called the police, who called me ASAP.

Four hours and five miles later (that's five miles going the direct route, not the crazy dog route), we had Thor back. Covered in mud, exhausted and excited to see us.

We loaded him in the car and brought him back to the vet's office -- right back where he started -- for an exam and a bath. Then it was home, where he jumped on the sofa for a nice snuggle with the neighbor girls.

He was tail wags the whole weekend. He stiffened up, though, and by Sunday he barely wanted to move. Chalk it up to sore muscles. As my trainer at the gym said, it's like he ran a marathon that he hadn't trained for.

And, for a boy who is so shy and suspicious of people, he's had more Good Samaritans step up to the plate to help him than any one being should ever need. First, there was BARC, which rescued him from the dog auction -- saving him from a life in a cage at a puppy mill -- and gave him care and fostered him until we adopted him. Then there was the first time Thor ran away, and all the people who took time to go look for him. That time, he got hit by a car, so there was the Good Samaritan who loaded him in her car and took him to the vet for emergency care, and the surgeon who put his hip back together. And now this.

I've always thought that perhaps Thor was a little bit part cat (which explains his attitude toward most people), and now I'm starting to worry that he's taken a big dent out of those nine lives. We have a big vacation coming up this summer, and fortunately both dog/house sitters know his history, but I can't help but worry.

If you want to read about how Thor joined our family and how his first misadventure turned out, I've backposted entries for 2004. The entries are posted in chronological order, so scroll to the bottom to read them in order.

Dallas weekend

I turned 38 a month ago. (I figure why be shy about my age when MySpace makes me display it prominently anyway.) It's not a big year. More like, it's a year that starts to get you used to the idea of 40, so that when 40 arrives, it's no big deal.

We didn't make a big to-do about my birthday. Dave had a business trip in Dallas, so we extended it over the weekend and hung out. He goes to Dallas often, and I'd been there just a few years ago for a romance writers conference, so we made it a lazy weekend.

We tried to have dinner in the West End (near where JFK was shot), but that neighborhood seems to have turned into a bust. Retail is all closed, questionable-looking people wandering around, and the one restaurant we had an appetizer in, the food was just OK.

We ended up getting back in the rental car and having a fabulous dinner at Maguire's Uptown Grille. They served these really cool crab shooters -- little crab balls served in a sake set. (I love the look of sake sets, but don't own one since I don't really enjoy sake.)

Dave really likes Razzoo's Cajun Cafe, so we had dinner there one night, too. (For some reason, Cajun restaurants don't seem to last long in our neighborhood.)

I'd say the highlight of our trip was our excursion to Grapevine -- a historic town with lots of wineries, restaurants, art galleries and shops. We were able to pop into Vetro, a glass blowing studio where they have a nicely set up viewing area. Next door is a bronze sculptor whom we could watch working. We sampled wine at D'Vine Wine of Texas, and ate craw fish at Big Fish Seafood Bar and Grill.

Overall, it was a quick and pleasant trip. Hmmm... Did we do much more than eat and drink?

Cicada sighting

It's the summer of the Cicada here in Chicago. The annual breeding year of the 17-year Cicada.

But, I've been asking myself, where are all the Cicadas that everyone has been talking about? I don't have any in my neighborhood.

I had my first encounter yesterday at work. I was sitting on a park bench outside the building and noticed one sitting next to me. Then I noticed a few on the edge of the building. And then I noticed more and more. Plus a faint buzz on the horizon. At last -- Cicadas!

I was visiting a friend in Wheaton last night, and I noticed that she doesn't have any in her neighborhood either, even through it's a long established neighborhood with a lot of trees. A co-worker in next-door Glen Ellyn has them, so I was really surprised that her neighborhood didn't have them. This made her laugh.

She said that she was in Downers Grove over the weekend and the buzz of Cicadas was so loud it was difficult to carry on a conversation. They were everywhere underfoot and buzzing around to the point that a few of the kids were shaking with disgust. "You know, in Wheaton, we don't get no plagues of locuts," my friend's high school-age son is reported to have told the Downers Grove crowd, tongue firmly in cheek, "We're good, god-fearing people."

(If you don't get the joke, follow this link to the Wheaton Wikipedia entry.)

The Paintbrush Ball

I can't say that I've ever done "the Society" thing, but we came close the other weekend. Marriott's company does pro-bono work for Marwen, an art school in Chicago. Marwen was celebrating its 20th anniversay at it's annual benefit dinner, called the Paintbrush Ball. Marriott's company had bought a table and had extra tickets, so she brought me and JC along.

In the parking lot of the school's studio, they'd set up two massive tents with carpeted raised floor and overhead fans. It seemed more atmospheric than "temporary structure" -- wooden folding chairs, white linens galore, and real glassware and dinnerware.

The crowd seemed like a big mix of older and middle-aged, with a few Paris Hilton-wannabes in the crowd. No outfits that made me go "Wow!", but there were a few pink and purple shirts/ties on men.

When we checked in, we were each given an auction paddle with our number on it for the live auction, and two pages of pre-printed labels with our number on it for the silent auction. So we grabbed a drink and couple hors de'oeuvres and perused the silent auction tables.

Marriott had warned me that the auction items would be out of our price range, but I'd laughed to myself because I've seen items go ridiculously cheap in silent auctions. Let's just say, when I saw opening bids for more than $1,000 on bottles of wine in the silent auction, I realized that Marriott was not exaggerating.

If things were going for that much in the silent auction, what would the live auction be like? $5,000 for a trip to London. Not so bad. But a bidding war up to $21,000 for a 30-person wine tasting party in someone's swanky loft? (They ended up giving both bidders a party -- way to double the revenue!) And the fighter pilot for a day? Another $20,000 or so.

Oh, and the food was excellent. A real diet-buster.

All in all, it was a fun girls night out in the city. I'd happily do it again. Thank you Marriott for thinking of me and inviting me along. :)

The Killers at the Sears Center

Not the best photos (hey, it's just a camera phone), but it was a really good concert.

In May, we saw The Killers perform at the new Sears Center in Hoffman Estates.

Fun show. Good energy. And the definite feel that the band was having fun, too, and didn't want the show to stop. There was an encore. There was another encore. We got up to leave. But wait, there was even more!

The Sears Center was a nice venue also. Not too big for an indoor arena. And, surprisingly, lots of options for buying alcohol and mixed drinks.

AAA reminder

The Sun-Times today ran an article about a subject near and dear to my heart. The article was about someone who survived a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm, and urging people who fit a certain profile to get tested.

"Fighting a silent killer: Because they normally don't have any symptoms before they rupture, aortic aneurysms often don't get spotted until it's too late, making this man one lucky guy" is the main article, with an accompanying health blog entry about "You have an AAA: now what?"

Why is this subject so near and dear to my heart? It's what killed my Dad two years ago.

The article didn't seem to offer much new information over this article from a few years ago, but it's good to see it raising awareness.

If you fit the profile, please get tested.

Wook cut his hair!

He's Thor's arch nemesis. Everything our scardy-dog finds frightening in a person: male, big and tall, and with LOTS of hair. Not just a beard, but locks down to his waist.

In college, Dave made a reference to him being a walking carpet, and the nickname stuck. Twenty years later, more people know him by Wook (Wookie) than by his real name.

So, imagine our surprise when Wook came to visit recently, and when he took off his baseball cap, there was no hair. All gone. Shaved into a No. 2-blade buzzcut.

Wook said he was tired of the maintenance and in the mood for a new look. The barber was a little hesitant, he said, asking multiple times before taking scissors to his ponytail. But Wook was certain. (He still had the ponytail in his luggage. I hope he donates it to someplace like Locks of Love.)

It's amazing to me how a change like that can transform someone. Wook looks younger.

And as we sat at dinner one night, Wook in his baseball cap and with a goatee, it occurred to us that he looked like another popular culture icon. He sort of looked like Silent Bob.

Unfortunately, Thor is still deathly afraid of him.

Contest catch-up

While I'm starting with a clean slate at work, I thought I'd also try to finish up some projects at home.

I've been coordinating the Futuristic/Fantasy/Paranormal category for the Windy City Four Seasons Awards again this year (it's a romance writing contest), and I spent all last night emailing the non-finalists their score sheets and assembling their packets to return through regular mail. I'm only about a month late doing this. (Sorry about that, if by chance one of the entrants is reading this.)

As soon as we announce the final placements, then I can clear everything off my plate and return the score sheets and packets to the finalists. I'm as eager to do that as the finalists are to hear how they did, but unfortunately, we have to wait for the other categories to determine final rankings also. (Probably another week, maybe two.)

Funny thing is, we had only 17 entries in FFP, but 5 of them finaled in some way, shape or form. Three were finalists in the FFP category, and three were finalists in a new, overall category called Hero Guaranteed to Blow You Away (one was a double-finalist). There's some really good writing out there. I can't wait to see some of these writers published.

Mega Project nears release date

The Mega Project has ended at work. Yesterday I made the switch back to my old team while the Mega Project ties up loose ends, then goes on to audit and eventual release.

Deep sigh.

For six months I've been on loan to the Mega Project team. And now, weeks of intense work days are over. I don't have to look at the countdown posted on the bulletin board anymore, let alone the sign that went up last week: "We just passed the completion date of May 30, 2007" (read with an undertone of doom). Yes, we overshot the release date a little bit.

Of course, now that I'm back on my old team, we're jumping into two simultaneous software revisions. But this is Long Established Project, and the intense days (hopefully) will be fewer and farther between.