My New Year's Eves are always crappy. Why is that?

Don't Go Towards the Light!

When I visited Nana on Christmas Day, I learned that Dad had been watering her poinsettia every day. In case you don't know me or this is your first time reading my blog, my dad is dead. Nana was also talking about Linda, my aunt, and Edith, my great aunt, both of whom are also deceased. It's a little creepy. I hope she knows to stay away from the light if the three of them come back. 

Do you have doubt?

One last thing, one last 2 sentence post for the night. You must go see "Doubt." It is incredible. I want to see it again, but up next is "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button." Hmmm...maybe that's a good Thursday recovery activity.

I just found this online, and it's hilarious. If it wasn't a cute little kitty, it would totally be the stuff of horror movies!

So I'm a little late to the game, apparently, but I have just fallen in love with Iron & Wine, who I initially resisted because I thought the name sounded like some awful 70's quaalude rock band. But Josh pointed out that I&W is just Sam Beam which makes the name more post-modern than annoying. I'm not so sure about that, but I do love the music.

That is all.

Today is the first day that the really stupid thing I did doesn't hurt. It's about time. You don't know how pleased I am about that. 

I know this might make me very unpopular, but I'm completely bored by this "Batman Begins to Return Forever" or whatever it's called - the one with the Joker. Yes, Heath Ledger is sufficiently creepy, but the movie is BORING! 

I hope by this time tomorrow I will be able to take a bath without boiling water, Little House on the Prairie style.

This day sucks.

Rage. 

Anger. 

Ire. 

Extreme irritation. 

Rage. Rage. Rage. Rage.

This is SO not even funny, but so par for the course for my family's luck.

aye aye aye

Every week it's the same - waves of relief that it's Friday again. Does anyone love their job so much they don't feel like this?

This is going to be a long and ramble-y one so settle in.

I like Christmas. Well, let me clarify, I like the idea of Christmas. I like Christmas trees and lights and ornaments. What I hate about Christmas is the rampant greed and stress of the season. It's ridiculous, and for the last couple of years my family has been trying to put a stop to most of that. It's really nice. While there might be things I want, there is NOTHING I need. So now we spend more money on helping people who need it, which - shocker - makes it fun again. I understand the desire of people with kids to do it a little differently, but once you reach a certain age, I'm not sure it's necessary anymore.

The other thing I hate about the holiday season, and Christmas specifically, is how it can make the average single person dread getting out bed and facing the onslaught of "every kiss begins with Kay" commercials. 'Tis the season to make you feel inadequate and alone, I guess. I knew I was in big trouble today when I saw a lone goose trying to catch up with 3 others and felt incredibly sad for the poor goose that was honking disconsolately as the others flew away.

So I guess the season has brought up some unresolved feelings about M. Of course, since up until a couple of months ago we still saw each other once a month or so and talked to each other semi-regularly, it's not like these are some long-buried feelings. I knew they were there - waiting for the opportune time to pop up and drive me crazy. There have been hints about trying again lately too. It's not that it's not tempting to have that question (you know, the "who will it be" question) answered. Especially if the answer is someone you love/d and thought you'd be with forever. Especially when that person tells you they feel the same way.

But something holds me back. I think mostly it's because I'm proud that I haven't settled and have managed to avoid the "getting older...have to find someone, anyone to be with" trap. I don't ever want to make a decision as important as a life partner just because I'm scared and lonely. At the same time, stubborn is high on the list of what makes me, me. He's stubborn as a mule, too, and I wonder sometimes if we both bent a little, what might happen.

I think the biggest reason we keep coming back to this place is that both of us wonder if we were just victims of incredibly bad timing. Here's a free piece of advice from me - never let your dad die 9 months into a relationship. The resultant breakdown is, surprisingly, not that great for fledgling romance and 3 years later we, ok I, still hadn't gotten past it. And yes there is that whole "commitment" thing, but there's also the whole "at some point it's your right and responsibility to save yourself when you're standing at the edge of a sucking emotional abyss" thing. So I don't judge him for leaving. He did what he thought he needed to. Sigh...it's just all so complicated.

Maybe it all comes down to what would I do if I wasn't so proud and so afraid and so stubborn? What would happen if I made a decision one way or the other? What would happen if he would? There are very few, if any, illusions here for either of us. I think we both know that going down in flames is the most likely outcome, but apparently there's something that whispers to both of us that it might be worth the risk. To close your eyes and leap or open them and be too scared to move, I guess that's the question. Not as concise as "to be or not to be," but basically the same thought process.  

One other thing, all of you out there who have opinions, and I know you all have opinions, keep them to yourself. It's not a round table discussion - no opinions or advice needed. I'm just thinking out loud.

I can't even tell you what I did; it's too ridiculous even for me.

If the last 10 minutes and the amount of blood are any indication - today's going to be a crappy day. How long are tetanus shots good for?

oh my darlin', oh my darlin'

The annual Feast of the Clementines has begun. Let us give thanks for Vitamin C and easy to peel citrus. 

I'm a little distressed, though, because I found this post from last year and the clementines were on sale for $3.99.  Stupid recession.

10 minutes later - I guess I should explain that the distress came from the fact that the clementines were on sale for $5 this year.

Words to live by anyone?

People who are unaccustomed to choosing often feel they have no choice because they don't like what the act of choosing requires: inconvenience, clarity, discipline, willingness to risk something new, courage. But those near-term hurdles are what let you win the long-term race. It's worth being inconvenienced if you have a lighter conscience. It's worth being gutsy if your choice lets you sleep at night. It's worth being a little more disciplined if it lets you feel your strength and inner power. It's worth sticking your neck out because that's how you get a life that doesn't suck. 

~ Michelle DeAngelis

apropos of nothing

I think "Sullivan Street" is an unfairly overlooked Counting Crows song. I have a live version of it that I love. Of course, nothing can beat "Raining in Baltimore," but it comes pretty close. I know, I know...me listening to the Counting Crows is never a good sign since they're kind of my go-to depressing music band, but really I'm more introspective than blue (at least I think I am), and they're good for that too.

Great, just great.

My friend told me I sounded like I had TB or emphysema. Nice. When will I be over this cough? I sound like I should be in a sanatorium. Actually, that sounds kind of nice except for the incurable illness part.

10 Minutes later - I thought sanatorium was spelled sani- as in sanitary. But it's not. Now you know.

Snow Dog

I just can't be in a bad mood when I see my dog. When I drove home tonight through all the slush and snow and beginnings of ice, it was just the beginning; I had to take Elsa out when I got home and I also thought I had to rush out to obedience class (but because of the slush, snow and beginnings of ice, I had a call on my answering machine telling me class was postponed until next week - yay!). I'm not sure she knows what snow is, based on her rather odd reaction. I was doubled over laughing as she took a step and then licked the slush, took a step and then ate some snow over and over again. She really should live in Alaska or something. She loves the cold and, apparently, snow. 

Peace, Acceptance or Whatever You Want to Call It

So, I'm about to write a post that I have no idea where it's going to go or even, really, what I'm trying to say. You'll have to forgive me - it's beginning to get late (for me); I'm still on some mind-altering cold medicine, and I *may* have had a glass of wine. 

I've talked before about fear and how I think it's the real opiate of the masses. But, I'm beginning to see how in my life, guilt/shame (which I know are considered very different things psychology-wise, but for the purposes of this post are going to be synonymous) play a pretty big role in keeping me stuck.

If you know me, you know I'm a big believer in karma. I guess that's because I've had it come back round to me. I've made some stupid decisions in my life - decisions that have had big ramifications, decisions that I wish I could change. But, as we all know, there's no rewind button.

But this guilt/shame has practically incapacitated me and left me standing there being stoned over and over by certain people in my life. And I've stood there and taken it in an attempt to make up for my mistakes, as penance. But at some point you have to forgive yourself and stop punishing yourself. You're the one that has to live with it, after all, and sometimes all that's left is to accept it, learn from it and move on. Right? I'm so sick of standing there taking shit just because I think I deserve it. At some point, you've been punished enough, right? All penance has an end, right? I hope so. I think so. I think I finally made it there. I've served my time. I can't take back the mistakes I've made, but I can't pay for them any longer either. It's time to let go. We're even, and I'm not the bad guy anymore.

Why is it so hard to believe that? 

Not to promote sloth or anything, but...

You should be watching Leverage on TNT. If you start next week, you'll have missed only 2 episodes. Do it! Take a night off. Watch some TV.

Overheard

I walked past a girl at work right as she vehemently said, "that's crap, you are how you act." It's a pretty simple concept, but I must have been out sick the day that lesson was taught. I guess learning it now is a case of better late than never. I think keeping this in mind will make it a lot easier to know who gets to be in my life and who is just a waste of space in it.  

Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)

This video may be the (unintentionally) funniest thing I have ever seen. The song falls in that category too actually. It's brilliantly ridiculous. I love it!

Sick

So I'm sick. I've been sick for like a month now, and I finally broke down and went to the doctor this morning. Turns out I really was sick - fever and all. I've been pretty delirious all day and have entertained myself by napping through Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, watching infomercials and The Real Housewives of Orange County and feeding my dog apple slices (which does count as entertainment because it's funny to watch). My brain is fuzzy and tired.

Pockets

I know the girls at GFY would disagree, but I have to say that a fancy dress with pockets is kind of awesome.  

I'm encountering a harmonic convergence of suck right now. I've felt kind of emotionally ick the last few days - a combination of the suck and holiday induced blueness. But last night I got a treat that made all the suck and blueness recede for a little while. When I took Elsa out for her last sniff and pee, it was so cold and still and quiet outside - very peaceful, especially when you always have little voices yelling in your head (but not in the crazy way...come on, you know what I mean). But the best, most beautiful thing, the thing that kind of calmed the storm and allowed me to take a deep breath was the ground. It was late and already freezing and there was frost on the ground, and it sparkled like someone had shaken glitter all over the yard. Everywhere the moonlight or streetlights hit were sparkles that crunched pleasantly where you stepped. It was so unexpected and so pretty that I didn't mind Elsa wanting to sniff everything in the back yard; I just wanted to keep smelling the cold air and watching the grass twinkle.   

Gaah!

Gaah! Both the bulbs in my overhead light in my bedroom have blown out. How am I supposed to see to change them? Gaah!

I hate busy weeks when I have something to do every night. It makes me grumpy. And tired. But, tonight is a pizza night so I can make an exception.

Wow. Such a good book. Of course if I remembered more of Hamlet from high school, I might have thought twice about reading this. I'm a little (okay a lot) traumatized by the story, but the book was pretty flawless. I got to a point in the book where I couldn't read it fast enough. I say read it!

Train of Thought

Here's my thought - even though you can cook salmon in your dishwasher, it's probably one of those things you shouldn't do.

So here's how I got there. I was thinking that I needed to clean out my freezer because there's some stuff that I should really get rid of, like some tilapia fillets that I've had for a long time. Then I remembered how I read that Dr. Weil said you really shouldn't eat tilapia because there are a lot better fish than tilapia - for instance, salmon. Then I thought that I should have bought some salmon while I was at the grocery store. Then I wondered what kind of salmon Publix had - Asian glazed or hickory smoked or whatever. Which led me to - even though you can cook salmon in your dishwasher, it's probably one of those things you shouldn't do.  

Bath Time

Elsa Wet and Dirty (and from the look of it, trying to escape)

Elsa Clean and Dry

Man, I'm glad this football season is 13 minutes from being over (for us at least).

Yay Me!

Everyone that I've introduced to the Lenka CD LOVES it.  Yay me!  It's very gratifying.

Interesting Fact of the Day

Susan Tedeschi and Derek Trucks live in Jacksonville, FL.  Pretty cool, I think.  

Grey Matter

Ok, so I've pretty much stopped watching Grey's Anatomy for anything except the music, which tends to be the only redeeming thing about the show these days.  Which is sad considering how perfect it was when it first began, but I guess as they say (Frost, right?) "nothing gold can stay."

So back to the music.  A couple of weeks ago there was a song in the background called "Trouble Is a Friend."  It sounded very promising so I went to iTunes to check it out.  The girl's name is Lenka and she's from Australia and her album is great.  I pretty much haven't stopped listening to it since I bought it.  It's just fun, catchy, light-hearted pop that sounds like a grown-up wrote it, which is sometimes hard to find these days.  Here she is:

 Buy her CD.  You won't be sorry.  

A little of this, a little of that

Blech...I'm really sick to my stomach.  My lunch is not agreeing with me.

The trees in my neighborhood are some of the most beautiful things I've seen. Although I've never realized it, apparently leaves fall off trees from the top down - at least they do in my neighborhood. I'd never thought about it before, but I guess it makes sense, science-wise. Interesting, huh? I thought so.    

Finally, it's raining which means I don't have to take Dog out for a walk, which is good because I've got lots of dust bunnies to track down before they pull the carpet up, etc...on Friday.  

"Storm Chasers" on Discovery is my newest TV obsession.

It's an Animal Planet Sort of Afternoon

I just found out that you are more likely to be killed by a falling coconut than by a shark attack. What I hate about statistics like that is this - they just give me something new to worry about. I never knew death by coconut was even on the list of possible deaths and now I have to put it even higher on the list than shark attack.  

I just watched the craziest thing; there was chemical warfare, hostile takeovers, impersonation of royalty and slavery. And it was all about ants. Slavemaker Ants to be exact. I suggest you look them up and be amazed, like me.

Scariest Thing I've Heard All Year

As director of strategic initiatives at AmeriCares, Ella Gudwin grapples first-hand with the adaptability of germs and the tenacity of infectious diseases..."The whole world is covered in a small film of fecal matter, " she adds. "Just get used to it."

I'll pause while everyone goes and washes their hands. Anywho, I'm out for an adventure in the 'Boro (pronounced burro for non-Tennesseans - don't ask me why.) The things dog owners do...

This is getting ridiculous.

I fell. Again.

Found Wisdom

Life is between the trapeze bars. 

(from a card at Davis Kidd)

Fritos specifically.

My dog smells like corn chips. 

Poor Elsa

Elsa's sick. She had to go to the vet and get a shot. Poor baby.

On the upside, she did very well with a stranger who was poking her and prodding her and ultimately sticking her with a needle. 

On the downside, she threw up on the examination table. 

On the upside of that, at least it was at the vet's and not another pile of sick that I had to clean up; I've done enough of that to last me for a while. I'm afraid the smell of Resolve carpet cleaner will never leave my nose.  

YAY!

I found some money in my back pocket at obedience class tonight; also some hotdog, but Elsa was really more interested in that.

Confession

I'm watching Sex and the City (the movie), and I have to admit, I have a gigantic fear of being left at the altar. I think that's what they call "borrowing trouble."

I made the mistake of reading the news today, and none of it was good. In fact, it ranged from terrible to truly atrocious. This was about the only thing that made me smile today.

Legends of the Fall

Ow. Falling hurts. 

I've ignored the klutz part of these chronicles for a while, but I now have some major klutziness to report on. The other night my friend and I were walking our dogs. No, my dog didn't trip me or pull me down or anything. The truth is I have no idea what happened. One moment we were jogging down the sidewalk, the next I had gone flying. My palms were scraped up and my legs and knees were one big bruise. It was actually pretty spectacular - the first total wipeout I've had in a while. It's beginning to look like owning a dog is hazardous to my health!

Again, falling hurts. I don't recommend it. That's my PSA for the day. 

I have been uber productive today, and now I am totally running out of steam. Must...get...up...must...get...dressed.  

Might I add that it's so freaking cold in my house? If anything, I should be glad to be getting out just so I can get warm.   

Have I mentioned that Honey Crisp apples are back? Bliss!

OK, I know who I'm voting for.

I think. 

I have a tiny bruise on my right forearm, and every time I saw it out of the corner of my eye today I was like, "hey, what's that on my arm?"  

I'm such a dingbat sometimes.

I am emotionally ick today.  

I think I have a British sense of humor

Headline in a London newspaper:  We're all socialists now, comrades.

Funniest thing I heard all day.  

Curious, very curious

My power went out the other night. Before it did, something in my house (I don't know what) let out 3 ear piercing beeps. It must have lasted 2 or 3 seconds. Here's my question...how did it know the power was about to go out in enough time to beep? I mean, I know - power surge, blah, blah, blah.  But still...it's like magic.  

Even

So, Sunday something (a bug, bee, ant, sharp stick) got Elsa. I was worried she was hurt, but I have to admit that it was funny watching her spin around trying to figure out what happened. Elsa, who was fine by the way, got her revenge on Monday morning when we were walking right before I went to work. I was mostly dressed - make-up and hair done, top on - but just threw on a pair of stretchy pants and flip flops. She walked down this little rise so I followed her to the edge. I should have been more aware of the slippery, freshly mown grass. My feet went out from under me, and I landed my right on my butt. The scene was similar to the vacuum commercial where a big fluffy cat was sitting on the stairs and suddenly there was a huge POOF and a scrawny cat sat there with hair floating everywhere. It was that, except with confetti-size pieces of grass. Everywhere. 

You might think there was enough padding there to keep me safe, but not so much. My neck and shoulders have been killing me since then, and it hurts to sit on the floor (just one reason I'm glad for furniture). I want to hang upside down. I always hypothesize that hanging upside down will help when I have back and neck problems. Anyone I know have one of those upside down tables?

I'm a secret fan of death metal (even though I don't own any albums, although some would argue that Trans-Siberian Orchestra is pretty close), but I admit to being a bit disappointed when the Avett's went all electric and death metal-y for the finale tonight.  

Sigh

I need a change. It's sad when "Ugly Betty" makes you realize it's time for something new. I'm just not sure how to make the new happen at the moment. But total cool points for Tom Petty's "American Girl."

Today's Walk Is Brought to You by the Letter P

Pee, poop, pear and pinecone

My "friend" was back this morning. I think, but I'm not sure. I thought the van was brown with brown stripes but the van that drove past me (3 times!) this morning was blue with blue stripes. Other than that, it was the same shape, style, etc...So the behavior's the same, but I really thought it was a brown van. And I didn't get a good look at the man the times I've seen him before, but I had the feeling the guy was more middle age. This guy was younger. 

So are there two weirdos driving around my neighborhood in the same type, but different color, van or is my memory just that unreliable? This time I got the license plate, but now I don't know what to do with it. What if this guy was just lost in the neighborhood or something?  

Life is good.

I was in Target and this DVD stopped me in my tracks. I don't remember much about this movie except that when I first saw it, I thought it was the saddest thing I'd ever seen. Does the unicorn run into the ocean and drown or was that my imagination? If I've forgotten, do I even want to know?

I'll drink to that!

Are fanny packs ever acceptable?

Normally, I'd say no, but after this morning's unsettling events, I think a fanny pack might be the only thing big enough to carry all the things I now realize I have to carry when I walk the dog.   Keys, cell phone, pepper spray, doggie sacks - there are just not enough hands. 

Dontcha know?

RNC notwithstanding, I really want to visit St. Paul. I've heard it's a great city, but I guess I've missed the window for this year. It's the time of year to start heading south, not north.   

A Quick Rant

Why aren't there any *$?!*%$ sidewalks in MetroCenter?

Of course, I know why, but it is 2008, right? I thought the whole "separate but equal thing" had been sorted out a while ago. At best, it was a planning committee's extraordinary lack of foresight. The other option? Let's just say I doubt whoever was in charge of this development will be voting for Barack Obama.   

Jem is outrageous - truly truly truly outrageous!

(This is a scan of an actual Polaroid - how awesome is that?)

The 80s party was a neon hued, tight leggings, acid wash, many cans of hairspray, new hole in the ozone layer good time. Teased hair, crazy eye-shadow and truly awful fashion abounded. I've never really been too much of a costume person. Putting one together is too much like arts and crafts, which I hate, but 2 costume parties and 2 semi-successful costumes in one month may have changed my mind. 

I also had my first rock band experience ("Tricky" Run DMC) and Amanda and I beat Elly. It might be my proudest moment.

How does your garden grow?

I know nothing about plants and have an extreme aversion to most any kind of insect (garden dwelling or no), but I think I might like being a professional gardner.  Plus, being able to work in something called a hot house is awesome.   

I'm watching Monday Night Raw. I just witnessed a Double Diva Drop Kick. Awesome. Ooh, there's a guy on Raw that has the same initials as my mom. Random, but kind of amusing. Come on...this is so fake. No one really thinks this real, right?    

Speaking of things that are fake, yet awesome, I got my costume today for the 80s party this weekend. The scariest thing is that I bought the entire thing from WalMart for about $20, and I guarantee that if you put it next to something that was actually sold in the 80s, you would NOT be able to tell the difference. 

Think leggings, neon and turquoise eyeliner. I can't wait!   

More Cabo

Here are a couple more pictures of Cabo. It was a great vacation that consisted mostly of nothing. Nothing and margaritas, that is. 

Ok, I know this isn't the Elsa Chronicles even though it seems like most of the time when I post now it has something to do with her. Its just that I live a pretty boring life; she's one of the most entertaining things about it. In that vein, a list of a few of the things she's picked up and carried along with us on walks recently:

A stick bigger than her head

A clod of cut grass

A dryer sheet

A McDonald's sack

The dryer sheet was my favorite. That's probably the best her breath has ever smelled. As far as the McDonald's bag, I figured that we were helping keep the neighborhood clean so I wasn't too worried about her carrying it around. Until temptation became too much and she dropped it and ripped the bag shreds. She tries to be civic minded, but sometimes that's just too hard.

the perfect little song...the perfect little dream

God bless the Paste Magazine CD Samplers and Elly who lets me borrow them. Here's a new find - such a sweet little song. I pronounce it lovely. 

I was a little girl alone in my little world 

who dreamed of a little home for me.

I played pretend between the trees 

and fed my houseguests bark and leaves 

and laughed in my pretty bed of green.

I had a dream.

That I could fly from the highest swing.

I had a dream.

Long walks in the dark 

through woods grown behind the park, 

I asked God who I'm supposed to be. 

The stars smiled down on me. 

God answered in silent reverie. 

I said a prayer and fell asleep.

I had a dream.

That I could fly from the highest tree.

I had a dream.

Now I'm old and feeling grey. 

I don't what's left to say 

about this life I'm willing to leave.

I lived it full, and I lived it well. 

There's many tales I've lived to tell.  

I'm ready now, I'm ready now, I'm ready now 

to fly from the highest wing.

I had a dream.  

Priscilla Ahn, Dream

Here's My Dilemma

Read, more or less, the intellectual equivalent of Silly String:

Or read this, which is really only a notch or two above Silly String - Silly Putty, say - but at least has some author cred and would mean I might finish the thing some time this decade:

Decisions, decisions...

Strange Confession #451

I really like the double 0 key on calculators.  The ONLY good thing about carton marks is dividing the case pack into the quantity.  The quantities almost always have double zeros.  I like how fast it shows up on the display when you hit it.  

I also like typing in 553l8008 and turning the calculator upside down.  

Hey, I warned you.  

I know I'm kind of a freakish super-fan, but what can I say? I'm a freakish super-fan who's buying tickets to their show in September. 

I love me some Avetts.

I'm baaaaack...

Los Arcos at Land's End.

Iconic Cabo and completely beautiful.

He Has a Sheepish Grin

If Elsa was a boy, I would have called her Lambert.  And while we walked I would sing to her, um, him:

Laaaambert, the sheepish lion

Laaaambert, there's no denying

Lambert's always tryin' to be a wild and wooly sheep,

Laaaambert the sheepish lion.  

Then we would come home and watch the cartoon.  Ok, truth is, I sing this song to her all the time anyway.  And I just watched the cartoon.  I lub it.    

Maybe her middle name could be Lambert.

Best. Picture. Ever.

If dogs are smart enough to figure out social hierarchy by who eats first, don't you think they're smart enough to know that you're not really eating out of their bowl? 

Here's something I like. When you drop some of your dog's food on the floor, not only is it OK to just leave it on the floor, it's perfectly acceptable to use your foot to kick the food to the dog. It's the 5 second rule plus a foot.

Robert Siegal, host of All Things Considered, got a snort out of me after he said IUD when he meant IED. It was either a mistake or yet another reason I really don't want to go to Iraq.   

Home is where the heart is.

I've been thinking about the place where I grew up and lived most of my life. I just googled street level mapped it, in fact. Bad idea. It doesn't look like I remember it. The front lawn looks messy. The house is a different color. Times have changed, people have moved on, blah blah blah.  

The thing is, for about 5 months in the place where I grew up, I had everything - a great job (where I was not only well paid but well respected), a boyfriend I loved more than I thought was possible, and both my parents. I can't even begin to describe how important those things are separately, let alone together. I'm sure you know that though.  

But as The Roots and Chinua Achebe have told us: things fall apart. 

Fast. 

In ways that can't always be put back together. 

Unfortunately. 

I just wish things had stayed together a little longer. Sigh. I don't know. It's not like I've got a bad life. It's just so different than what I thought it would be. And even though I haven't (and won't) get some of the pieces back, it's OK. I mean, it really sucks, but it's OK.    

ARGH! Another book I just can't finish - what's gotten into me lately? I've read 700 page books that I loathed until the last 3 pages ("I Know This Much Is True")! I've had this book for almost 2 years and have never been able to get into it. In this book there are all these strange classifications of people - guardians, donors, carers - and I want to know who/what they are and what they're up to. I've made it to chapter 5 now, which is the farthest I've gotten in the 4 times I've tried to read this book, so maybe I'll finally get my questions answered.

(Later - I went to Amazon to read people's reviews, hoping that they would inspire me to keep going. Not so much, but now at least, I know what the premise of the book is. I don't know how you go from "The Remains of the Day" to this. But I am going to finish this stupid book - then leave it on a park bench for someone else to be tortured by.)  

not soon enough

 

Should I be concerned

1.  that "Freebird" is one of my favorite songs?

or

2.  that when I was walking the other night there was a dead mole on the ground and it looked so funny that I seriously considered running back to my house to get my camera so I could take a picture of it?

She's also

1/3 Otter

I am the pack leader. You are calm-submissive. Tsst.

I've been watching too much Dog Whisperer lately and my friends at work feed my addiction. Amy and I were talking about the show and she was telling me that there's a South Park episode where Cartman gets in big trouble. His mom calls in Nanny 911 and all these different people to help, but the only one who can get him under control is Cesar Millan. 

It is hilarious. Enjoy.

Elsa is

1/3 Dog

1/3 Goat

1/3 Rabbit

I used a saw today to cut off part of a tree. I feel like Paul Bunyan.  

Oh, wait, that was an axe.  

Well, anyway, you know what I mean.  

Grand Theft Auto

I have, on occasion, been told that I was letting my imagination run away with me. I admit that sometimes that happens, but I don't think that's the case this time. I feel pretty certain that I witnessed a van being stolen from the BP at 8th and Wedgewood this afternoon. Seriously. Basically there was a van trying to get away so fast that it almost caused several wrecks (I was one of those almost wrecks) as it pulled out in front of people, swerved and then made a left hand turn from the center lane.  I think the clincher was that as it drove away, the car alarm was still going off.  I mean, what else am I supposed to think?  

I would like to make clear, though, for anyone who may be reading this, that I didn't see who was driving so there is no need to try to hunt me down and silence me. 

The Dog Paradox

My house is cleaner, 

yet dirtier, 

than it's ever been.  

Weird.  

I think today is the first walk we've taken where I didn't end up wrestling something unspeakably gross out of Elsa's mouth. I've been trying to watch so she doesn't grab anything up, but she has sonar for flattened, dehydrated animals (turtles, snakes, bird wings). Last night she grabbed something. All I heard were tiny bones crunching - a chipmunk or a bird I guess, whatever it was was flattened too. Ick. Dogs are kind of gross. 

All the Things You Need to Start Your Own Rebel Group

1.  Cell Phones

2.  Money

3.  Satellite Phone

4.  Vehicles

This is according to NPR. It seems that as a rebel group, you might need some sort of ability to blow people up, but maybe not. 

This story should tell you all you need to know about me.

The other day, I had a container of pineapple chunks. I love pineapple. Too much pineapple, however, gives me a slight allergic reaction that makes my mouth itchy and my tongue swell a bit. I had eaten more of the pineapple than I knew I should have - there were only 3 chunks left. At this point, knowing I was going to suffer soon anyway, I ate the last 3 chunks. 

Feel free to draw your own conclusions from that story.  It may say more about me than pretty much anything I've ever posted.  

Homework for me

This may be the stupidest post ever, but here goes.  Why do we hate Cuba so much?  I mean, it can't just be that it's a communist country, right?  Is it the whole Bay of Pigs thing?  Because even when we were in the Cold War, didn't we still have a diplomatic (per se) relationship with the USSR?  And as far as communist countries go, we've sold our soul to China.  I need to go find an American history book.  I wonder if my book, "Lies My Teacher Told Me," addresses this? 

Introducing...Elsa!

I know it's blurry, but I shake and she doesn't sit still for long.  

I've been getting ready for my new "family member" tonight, lots of cleaning and putting away to be done. Although I'm not sure why I care if the dog comes home to a clean house, since she peed on the floor during her first visit. A stickler for housekeeping she's not. I'm nervous, which I realize is probably a little strange, but it's how I am. I want to do things right. It's been a stressful week, and I've gotten very little sleep the last two nights. I'm exhausted, but I doubt I'll rest any better tonight - too much going on in my brain.

I've thought about getting a dog for a long time, and I'm not sure why I finally decided to take the leap. I have a couple of theories, but I think I'll keep the most likely one to myself. What I can share, without too much embarrassment, is that I think I wanted something that would give my life a little more purpose and make me responsible to something other than myself. There are other routes I could have taken to accomplish this goal, I guess. I could have gotten married or had a kid; but honestly, I'm not sure about the concept of marriage (several people have told me they think I'm even more ambivalent about it than I'll admit) and apparently my biological clock was never wound up. I think, in the end, I made the most socially responsible decision.

Suck it, all you jerks out there!!  

I have to admit, I hope karma is a legitimate force in the universe. I'm probably wishing a world of hurt on myself for that hope. I'm not trying to say that karma won't bite me in the ass at some point...I've done things that would probably take me back to dung beetle status if I believed in karma's counterpart - reincarnation. But you know, if I should come back as a cute chattering squirrel in the next life, the best I can hope for is that some people get what's coming to them and only make it back as blind, hairless moles.  

Born Free

Even though my soon to be dog is part Catahoula Leopard, I'm thinking of renaming her Elsa because her fur is the same color as a lion (except for the whole spots thing). I like Elsa and ANYTHING is better than Tinkerbelle. Can I get a witness?   

Knowlege is Power...

...the kind of power I don't want. I've known something - an incriminating sort of something - for a while, and I don't know what to do with it. I think keeping my mouth shut is the best thing for me to do for several reasons, but it's tempting. If this was Dynasty and I was Joan Collins, I'd be coming up with a fabulous blackmail plot - most likely involving diamonds, an ex-lover and a house in Greece - right now.    

Overheard

"You are not your thoughts."

I'm working on "getting" this. I've been doing a lot of reading lately and this statement, or some variation of it, keeps coming up. It's Lazy Susan time again - bringing things around again and again until you finally take them off and deal with them. 

(Lazy Al sometimes wishes they'd just go away.)

I love the color navy these days.  I want to marry it and have little navy babies.

Awesome.

Formula for success:  

Hair Band + Cheesy Power Ballad = Guilty Pleasure

Specifically:

Skid Row + I Remember You = Awesome 

You know that feeling you get when you know you've done something wrong and you're kind of scratching around in your brain to find an excuse, but there's not one up there because basically you just did a crappy thing and that's all there is to it? You know, that uncomfortable gnaw in the pit of your stomach and the uh-oh cringe? Yeah, I kind of have that now. I totally flaked on someone the other night, which isn't unheard of, given my love affair with my couch, but I should have at least warned of my impending flake. Bad Al.  

(Sorry Katie.)  

I love him. No, seriously I do. I'm hoping he's narcissistic enough to google himself and find this post. I mean, he's an artist, they probably spend hours at a time googling themselves, right? Anyway, he'll find this, fall in love with me through my posts, come find me, profess his undying devotion and eventually change the lyrics from "Kathleen" to "Allison." Events will start unfolding at any minute now, I'm sure.  

Oh, ha! I just realized that if this whole googling himself plan is going to work, it might help if I actually put his name (JOSH RITTER) in the post. 

 

Public Flower Announcement

This is not a crocus (or a pipe).  This is an iris.  
 

This is a crocus.

That is all.  

They're more scared of you...

When I was driving home a few minutes ago, the 3 little foxes playing in my neighbors' yard were so sweet and cute, I just wanted to stop and watch them. When I pulled into my driveway and saw another one run out of my carport, the feelings changed a bit. I sat in my car a few minutes and then scrambled out muttering, "they're more scared of you than you are of them" as I tried to get my door open as quickly as possible.   

And by the way, how many freaking foxes live in my neighborhood?  

Keep it in the oven

Although I'm up to 95% sure this wasn't the intention, I just cried through the last half of "Juno." Apparently I'm a little emotional today.  

Existential (Magnet) Thought of the Day

WHAT IF IT WERE THAT SIMPLE???

Yeah, what if it was?  

If Only It Was That Easy

"I've always found allegories kind of comforting.  When you encounter people named Liar and Abstinence, you might not be crazy about them, but you know exactly what you're getting into."

Love Walked In, Marisa de los Santos

Come on all you cowboys, all you blue-eyed baby boys

This is a list of what I should have been

But I'm not

This is a list of the things I should have seen

But I'm not seeing

The song "Cowboys" is the perfect example of why I love the Counting Crows.  It's dense and lyrical and strange and angry and slightly depressing.  It's my song of the day.

If anyone wants to buy me an expensive present, then I suggest this.

Pet Peeve

Southerners who hate the South. When you meet one of these people, run.  

Not today, maybe tomorrow - Part 2

So I'm having a "not today, maybe tomorrow" kind of day. I was supposed to make my way over to Panera tonight to work on transferring files from my old computer to my lovely new computer, but in the end I...just...couldn't...do...it. I knew the second I got home that I would not be leaving again tonight. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.  

In a heartening story of triumph over "not today, maybe tomorrow," I finally replaced the tail light bulb that was burned out on my car. It wasn't the main one - that one I would have fixed sooner - but a small one on the side of the car. It's been burned out for a year, possibly longer, since it's a little difficult to see your own tail lights (I recommend backing up to a building that has reflective glass windows). 

I started seriously thinking about changing the bulb in December, so I went out and bought replacement bulbs. They were the wrong bulb. Sigh. That slowed down the process for a perfectly reasonable 3 months. But I made great strides today when I not only took the bulb out and bought the correct one, but actually came home and put the new one in. Seriously, all of this taking place in one day - without threat of some imminent doom - is unheard of! After buying the new bulb, I could have easily driven around with it in my cup holder for at least another few months. Perhaps I'm evolving...one can only hope.    

Maybe that's the real reason I didn't want to go to Panera tonight. It was tomorrow for something else, which pushed today back a day (or let's face it, most likely, several days). Yikes, that thought just kind of blew my mind. Anyhoodle, I know "maintenance is the stuff of life" and all that, but I really must protest. It would be nice if these things - yards, cars, tags, plants, relationships, bagged salads - were all self-sustaining. That probably negates some other important kind of life lesson, like the value of a hard days work or something, but it sure would be nice if all these things that can break would just take care of themselves.

{This post is probably an argument against me getting a puppy. I really should read this every time the urge strikes.}     

The Flats

Here are some great "Flats" pics from my friend's trip to Ireland last year. 

 

I think we are in hops.

I'm not sure about this picture, although we look like we're having a good time.  

Apparently there is a cute Finnish boy component to this story, which may explain why only one quarter of my body is in the picture.

I'm not making this up

The United Nations has declared 2008 "The Year of the Potato." Seriously, this is the kind of stuff you can't make up. Truth is stranger than fiction? Oh yeah.

Which reminds me, I love love love the movie "Stranger than Fiction." In related news, I used a line from the movie today when J. was emailing all of us to see if we had sent in our taxes yet. "Get bent taxman!" I love pop culture. It's like a big family; everything is related. Six degrees of Kevin Bacon and all that.

this is the sound of settling

What does it mean to settle - in your life? your job? your relationships? And, is settling ever OK?

Bad boys, bad boys whatcha gonna do?

The highlight of my day was seeing a drug deal as I was driving home. I felt like I was watching an episode of Cops, except there were no cops, just a couple of guys in front of the methadone clinic.

Grease is the word

For some reason as I was driving home tonight, that song from Grease popped in my head - the one that Rizzo sang, "The Worst Thing I Could Do," or whatever it was called. I love that song. When I was younger I always wished I could be like Rizzo. Not because she was bad and did whatever she wanted, but because she was tough. I guess I still wish I was tougher than I am, but I don't think anyone's likely to be calling me Rizzo any time soon.

Anatomy of a Sleepless Night

10:30 pm - think about bed
10:45 pm - wait, to increase possibility of sleeping through night

11:00 pm - browse internet

11:30 pm - climb into bed

12:00 midnight - feet cold, need socks

12:05 am - find socks

12:20 am - toss and turn

12:30 am - move to couch

12:32 am - don't move, to trick mind into thinking body is asleep

12:37 am - bed

1:05 am - give up and get up

1:50 am - post angry, self pitying, sleep deprived blog

2:10 am - bed

2:20 am - up again

2:25 am - read

2:50 am - finish reading book

2:51 am - start new book

3:00 am - bed again; practice signing ASL alphabet

3:10 am - try holding breath to make self pass out

3:11 am - practice Spanish alphabet while signing ASL alphabet

3:19 am - hand cramp

3:25 am - couch

3:35 am - fall asleep

4:00 am - wake up

4:04 am - bed

4:05 am - fitful sleep

7:00 am - alarm

7:01 am - hit snooze button hard enough to move bedside table

7:20 am - drag self to shower

One thing I HATE, DESPISE and LOATHE About the Last Few Days

I can't frickin' sleep!!!  As those of you who know me know, lack of sleep doesn't do much to improve my disposition.  In fact, right now, I really want to lay down in the middle of my floor and throw a temper tantrum.  I'm so tired!  Why can't I sleep?  WHY?!?

A Smattering of Things That Have Made Me Happy in the Last Few Days

1.  Using the word smattering

2.  Donating children's playing cards b/c it gets them out of my way

3.  Bowling

4.  Hearing "Love You in the Fall"

5.  Picking up my newly tailored pants

6.  Signing up for a couple of classes

7.  Dinners with good friends

8.  Trivia tomorrow

Seoul Food

The most interesting thing about Korean food?  No fork and knives, just a spoon and chopsticks. Oh, and you cut your meat with scissors. Cutting the meat was the best part of the meal - after the pork that is.  

If you're looking for some good music, I recommend the new(ish) Rilo Kiley CD. It's pretty fabulous.  

It's been a week since I posted, and I feel like I need to post something else but I can't say that I have that much to say.  My mind is kind of blissfully blank. That pretty much NEVER happens so I think I should enjoy it while I can.  

Of course I do have plenty of strange ideas left in me.  Here's one. Remember the Super Bowl commercial for Tide with the talking stain? It was a guy on an interview and the interviewer couldn't hear anything because any time the guy would go to talk, the stain would start yelling nonsense.  I was thinking that it would be nice if bruises could do that and tell you where they came from.  Of course, if you're not someone who has bruises all over your body 90% of the time, it might not be as intriguing a thought.  I remember a friend in college laughing and breathlessly saying, as her boyfriend tickled her, "Stop!  I bruise easily!"  I should have a t-shirt that says that.  

Saturday morning I looked down and had a bruise on my knee. Nothing bad. I'm sure I just bumped into something.  Lack of depth perception makes it hard to navigate corners and the tops of desks. So, no big deal.  But then I'm brushing my hair, and I see that I have one of the nastiest bruises I've had on the inside of my left arm.  I have no idea how I did it.  I did have my arm hooked over a metal chair for a large part of Friday night, but surely that couldn't bruise me, could it? Anyway, a talking bruise to say, "hey stupid, this is what you did." would be nice. In all aspects, I don't like not knowing.   

A do run run a do run run

I got a knee brace today.  I've spent lots of time analyzing the problem, and in my mind, even though the injury is at the back of my leg, I think that the brace giving extra support to that area may be just the thing.  We'll see.  I'm not looking forward to starting from scratch, but maybe with my aches and pains under control I'll progress faster than before.  I can't believe after all I complained about it, I'm trying it again but it's that stubborn streak in me as much as anything else, I'm sure.  That and I really liked the structure that training gave me.  I need that.    

Not today, maybe tomorrow

I'm sure, by now, that everyone is familiar with the story of the woman who spent two years in her bathroom and eventually had to be removed (toilet seat and all) from the bathroom and taken to the hospital.  This story completely dumbfounds me for reasons that I am sure are apparent to all people who don't get so much comfort from their bathrooms that they decide to live in them.  

The part of the story that really struck me and the part that broke my heart was in one of the earlier stories I read.  They quoted this woman's boyfriend as saying that he had tried to get her to leave the bathroom.  And he said that she always said the same thing, "Not today, maybe tomorrow."  I think that may be one of the saddest things I've ever heard.  With that one statement, I almost understand. We may not live in our bathrooms for two years, but I know from personal experience, everyone has their own "not today, maybe tomorrow" scenario.     

On the Road

My friend Josh and I were emailing about Jack Kerouac the other day (which makes it sound like a much more literate conversation than it actually was), and I decided to check Wikipedia to get the penny tour of his life, since to be honest, I've never read any of his stuff.  After I read this though, I think I'm going to have to change that.  It's lovely.  

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars, and in the middle, you see the blue center light pop, and everybody goes ahh..."

Just lovely.

My internet is working tonight; that's an improvement.  And just because I read something about them and love them and then remembered I had these pictures, I present to you - THE AVETT BROTHERS.

Is this a good time to mention my attraction to beards and rockabilly?  

Squishy discomfort + inappropriate laughter = mammogram

For the last three days, my internet has only been working in the morning.  Whaaaa?

a morality play in one act

My aunt died yesterday. I'll be heading down later tomorrow afternoon for the funeral. To say the least, I am not looking forward to it. My only thought is getting through it without embarrassing myself or the rest of the participants (it's a small town; any funeral drama would be talked about for years).

Here's what I thought about this morning when I woke up. My aunt sent me money for Valentine's Day, and I never wrote her a thank you note. I meant to; I'd even thought about it this week - "d'oh, you need to write that note!" But, I didn't do it. Sigh.    

breakable

we are so fragile

and our cracking bones make noise

and we are all just 

breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys

"Breakable" Ingrid Michelson

News of the Weird

Do I need any more reasons to hate robots?  I think not.  

This is the coolest thing ever.  I read a book (All Over Creation) that talked about seed banks, and it was a great book.  Such a cool idea; I want to go there.  There's actually a guard there - to protect the bank from polar bears or something.  

In Weird Al news (ha), one of my friends asked me to pick out a book for her to read.  I'm really excited.  And I'm really a nerd.  I asked her a few questions:  short or long?  fiction or non-fiction? and then I went back to my office to start thinking about it.

Going to go look at my bookshelves now.  

Sometimes I wonder if the things I worry about are things that are actually important to me or just things that I think should be important to me.  

People (I say, shaking my head) amaze me and not in a good way. Our capacity for external deceit and internal self-deception seems endless. How can we be so mean and yet so stupid at the same time? It's the peas & carrots, the PB&J, the gin & tonic of the human condition; maybe you can't have one without the other.

I'm apparently never going to get around to telling you about it, so if you want to see what happened in Austin, you'll have to look at the pictures and make up the stories yourself.  They're on my Flickr page.

I started wondering tonight what education would look like if everyone was allowed to choose their path of study.  

Let's see:

I would know a little about biology and chemistry, but nothing about physics.

Algebra I would have been the last math to make it into my brain and even it's hold would be tenuous.

I'd know a lot about world religions, art and the art of world religions (the giant Buddha statues in Afghanistan, The Pieta, etc...).

I'd be reading about bananas (see last night's post) and how they changed history.

I'd have a fundamental grasp of the mind (psychology) and the body (anatomy).

I'd be well versed in modern lit, but not the so-called "great books" schools tried to make me like (Fascists.  I think forcing people to read things they hate is a creepy kind of mind control, but I digress.).

I'd have a pretty good grasp of history and current events.  

All in all, I think I'd be pretty much like I am today.  Interesting.  I don't know if that's good or if it just proves that the government raised another quiet sheep.  

Here's one thing a boyfriend is good for - they can take the skin off a chicken because the slimy makes you gag a little.  Then they can tell you if it's really Mojo chicken or not, because it doesn't taste like it did the last time. 

But I guess a knowledge of poultry and the seasonings it might be cooked in isn't the best reason to rush out and find a man.  It seems a little fowl.  (I know.  I'm very sorry.  I couldn't resist.)

Fascinating Fruit

I was listening to Fresh Air tonight and Terry Gross was talking with the author of the book Banana: The Fate of the Fruit That Changed the World.  Hello!  Are you experiencing the same urge to drive straight to the bookstore to get this book?  Is it just me?  Apparently bananas live a secret life as a fascinating fruit.  When I searched "bananas" on Amazon books, the first 4 titles that came back are about bananas and how they've shaped history.  

That kind of blows my mind, what about you?

When I came to

I looked down across the seat at you

You're upside down

Your brown hair hanging all around

I couldn't breathe

Beneath the belt, I couldn't hardly move

I couldn't think

I didn't know what to do

If there's any truth it comes from you

"Everything After the East Coast Ends," Matt Pond PA

My goodness, it's been a while. I would say I've been busy but really the only thing I've been busy doing this week is sleeping. My trip to Austin wore me out, but in a good way. I'll try to write more on that later.

I feel like I should say something to mark this special day (as decreed by the candy, lingerie, flower and card people). I'll let the valentine I got from my friend Jen say it all - Congratulations! You don't suck!

Now we do the dance of joy (kind of)

Remember that show Perfect Strangers? Remember Balkie Bartakamus and his dance of joy? Tonight, tonight I do that dance of joy. I quit. I set myself free. I'd put a mountain of pressure on myself and gotten to the point where the thought of quitting was as horrible as the thought of continuing. It's ridiculous, but this was a really hard decision for me to make (ask my mom or any of the 3 friends who had to listen to me explore every conceivable option every day for the last month). I worried a lot about it, so much so that I made myself sick, almost daily, for the last month. It's hard because even as I sit here relieved, I'm close to crying because I'm disappointed with myself in a way. But I think the lesson here may be that there are limits to what a person could and should make themselves withstand. This statement is a thousand times too dramatic for the situation, but I had really begun to feel like I was living a lie. People would ask me how I was doing, and I just felt like a fraud. It's funny how even things that are good for you can totally mess you up. Deep breath...in...out...in...out...

I just saw a great Monster commercial during LOST (bliss, but that's another story). It's this guy with gigantic thighs. He goes underground and in a bicycle-y thing, another guy is pedaling and thus turning the world. When the guy stops pedaling, the world screeches to a halt, water sloshes out of a tub, a man falls off his motorcycle. Then they change places and the world starts turning again. Cut to a picture of Earth turning in space...then the tagline, "There's a perfect job for everyone." I hope that's true. I hope I can figure out what it is. It reminds me of another Monster commercial from a long time ago. A guy standing on the corner dressed as a clam passing out flyers...then the tagline, "Are you a happy clam, or just a guy in a happy clam suit?" That ad was legend in my office at Stein Mart. Every time someone was having a bad day, someone would ask, "Awww...are you just a guy in a happy clam suit?"

And I know paragraphs would be nice but I'm having some serious formatting issues and after trying to figure it out for 35 minutes, I give up.

Huh

I had a thought the other day - I can't imagine being in a relationship. Like, not at all. The strange thing is when I was in a relationship, I couldn't imagine not being in one. What's that about? Maybe it's my brain's way of keeping me from going crazy wanting something I don't have? 

Interesting.  

Secret Lives of Twist Ties

So there's a Sarah Harmer song that talks about the secret lives of twist ties. That came into my head today as I increased the functionality (I should so become a technical writer) of a paperclip on my desk. No longer just a handy device to hold my papers together, it now keeps my hair out of the way too. I've had one holding my bangs back all day and it's worked quite well. Just a thought if you're caught somewhere without a hair clip but with plenty of paperclips.

WooHoo

Austin is back on! And I WILL be taking a Segway tour!

The Incredible Edible Egg

I love eggs. Really love them. I think they may be the perfect food (as long as I don't think too hard about what they actually are and what they look like before they're cooked). Anyway, I bought my first dozen brown eggs the other day, which of course raised the question, "what makes them different than white eggs?"

Here's what I came up with - some eggs are white and some eggs are brown. That's really about it. They taste the same (my research supports that) and have the same nutritional stats. At one point, it was thought that brown eggs tasted better. This was probably due to the fact that the chickens that lay brown eggs were fed a variety of things by farmers on small farms, not by huge conglomerations that fed their chickens a very bland and boring diet. But now, huge conglomerations own everything and the chickens that lay brown eggs, the ones who had it so yummy and tasty for a while, get the same gruel as all the other chickens.

Yeah, but why are some brown and some white? White feathered chickens lay white eggs. Red feathered chickens lay brown eggs. Although the more I think about it, the more I realize that still doesn't really answer my question. Why? Why does feather color matter? Maybe that's just more than I really need to know.

Oh, there is one other difference - brown eggs are usually more expensive because the chickens that lay them are usually larger. One of the breeds that lays brown eggs is the Rhode Island Red. I'm pretty sure Foghorn Leghorn was a Rhode Island Red. I think the brown egg people should definitely think about using him to sell their product. I mean advertisers are clamoring to get Dora the Explorer to use this GPS navigation system or have Bob the Builder use those fancy tools. This is the most natural product placement ever - "Every one of our eggs is protected and approved for sale by our head of quality assurance, Foghorn Leghorn." Think about it brown egg people.

I put a new pic up on my profile. The funny thing is, it's pretty much the same picture as before just different clothes and hair. Go with what works, I guess.

I've been reading this book, "The Inheritance of Loss" by Kiran Desai, for like, oh I don't know, maybe a year now. That is NOT typical for me. I have a habit of reading several books at the same time, but I still always finish them in two weeks - at most. This one, not so much. I think I figured out last night that I have like 100 pages left. It's going to be a struggle to finish this book, and yet I refuse to give up (that trait needs to be a post all by itself). Holding the book in my hand and reading the review from Publisher's Weekly made it sound so promising: "In this alternately comical and contemplative novel, Desai deftly shuttles between first and third worlds, illuminating the pain of exile, the ambiguities of post-colonialism and the blinding desire for a "better life," when one person's wealth means another's poverty." I mean, that sounds really interesting, right? And I read her first novel "Hullabaloo in the Guava Orchard" and loved it. Surely, I would love this book too.

But then I opened it up and knew, from the first chapter, that it was going to be a difficult book. Picking it up and then putting it down for months at a time has not helped my understanding of the story. I think there are cultural implications that I just can't wrap my brain around. But I'm to the point now that I don't care if I've understood it (which I haven't); I just want to say I finished it. It feels kind of like when I was in high school drama class and my partner and I had to write a play and we goofed off until like seconds before it was due and then my partner started getting all picky and ridiculous and I had to keep reminding him, "Not good, but done. That's all we're looking for. A "D" for crap is still better than an "F" for nothing."

Wow. After that analogy, I want to finish this book even LESS than before.

I have a big post in my head folks, I promise. It's building like Mt. Vesuvius.

In the meantime, think on this and feel free to let me know what you think. Is it worse to be needy or to be so strong you can't ask for help? I really don't know where that thought came from, but we'll go with it for now.

Why do the people at Lever2000 package their soap in a resealable paper box? They do know that soap is most commonly used with water, right?

Free Love

My friend and I were talking last night after The Amazing Race and we've decided we need to find a hippie boy to fall in love with. I'm a little wary of the combination of BO and patchouli, but as my friend said, we can always get some of that stuff that Medical Examiners put under their noses during autopsies. Besides, what's a little stank in the face of True Love?

Right?

Backlog

Another short post, but I don't have time for writing - only reading. I have 8 unread magazines sitting on my coffee table. When I woke up this morning I only had 6. In the space of a day, 2 more showed up. They're multiplying like glossy, news and entertainment-filled bunnies.

Happy New Year

May your days be merry and bright.