So, I was looking at my blog and realized it's been almost a year since my last post. Yeah.
Some thoughts:
-Where is time going this year? I can't believe it's almost November. I haven't even gotten my fall decorations down from the attic this year and for some reason, I'm not all that excited about doing so, which is odd considering this is my favorite season/time of the year. I realized yesterday that if I'm going to follow through with all of my plans to make most of my gifts for Christmas, I'd better get on it and fast. This time of year also brings the anxiety of not knowing if I'll get the days off around the holidays that I want. I don't usually know my work schedule for the next week until the Friday before, so it's extremely difficult to plan family events.
-I love Adobe Illustrator. It's mucho fun to play with.
-TV shows I dig watching right now: Chuck, The office ("Host the Dundees!"), Pushing Dasies, Reaper, Dirty Sexy Money and Buffy reruns.
-Favorite song to listen to while I work lately: Happiness is a warm gun
-Pants and I recently went to L.A. and Santa Barbara with friends. A good time was had by all. We spent 16 hours at Disneyland (in one day) and are all still speaking to one another. My only disappointment (and it's super minor) was that we didn't really see many celebrities. We did see (or walk by) Kevin McDonald, Rick Schroder and that kid from Freaks and Geeks. We just missed Bill Mahr at the Hollywood Hell House, which was incredibly funny. At the afterparty for that, we were talking to a guy who we later found out has won Emmys for the writing he's done for Arrested Development. When I told him my name, he likened it to a kind of pie. The weather was amazing and we drank more wine than when we went to Napa earlier this year. I guess I always assumed I'd visit California, it was just surprising to get to visit it twice in one year. Also, we sighted an old lady walking around Will Rogers World airport making birdcalls.
-I recently cut about 7 inches off the length of my hair. I love it! The only bad thing is that now that it's shorter I have to have it cut more often to keep it the same length. That's not awful, though. I really like my hairstylist. The last time I was there he kept calling his mom Trixie. I think her name was Nancy, she was standing right there laughing at him. I thought it was so neat that they have such a good relationship.
Have I given you enough, you greedy blog monster? Well, it will have to do for now because the dogs need to go outside.
ciao!
Monday, November 05, 2007
Friday, December 29, 2006
Dropping in
I looked out the back door window before letting the dogs out this morning. I saw a black spot near the fence and decided I should probably investigate before letting my little monsters loose to drag whatever it was up to the door or in the house.
It was a dead crow. It didn't look like it'd been gone for very long. It was glossy blue-black and about a foot or so long. It's little eyes were only just starting to turn a milky white.
I knew I couldn't leave it out there. My dogs, not sharing my feelings about all things dead, would gnaw on this bird, possibly breaking it up and carrying the pieces around before rolling around on what was left. This was not an option for me.
I looked to my neighbors' yards. Could I toss it over the fence without anyone seeing me? I quickly dashed this thought. All of our neighbors have dogs, who would react much the same way mine would, I'm sure. Also, I felt guilty about making this bird someone else's responsibility, or giving someone else the chance not to care about it. It fell out of the sky in my yard. It was here for me to deal with and I would.
For a minute I wondered if it was a bad omen. My mom thinks that ravens are my grandmother, visiting her in the physical world. Owls are my grandfather. That this bird had died in my yard, and it was the kind of bird my mom favors, didn't seem to bode well. Then it occured to me that maybe it was in my yard for that very reason. Of the people in the area, I alone would give it the dignity it deserved. I know it sounds like I was being awfully self-important, but I don't do well with dead things and was probably just steeling myself for what I knew I had to do.
I went to the garage and got out my big shovel. It hadn't done much good against the ice on the driveway, but I knew it was perfect for this task. Luckily, the it had rained all last night, so the ground was soft and easy to turn. I dug a hole about a foot wide and a foot and a half long.
Using the shovel, I tried to pick the bird up, but it kept slipping off so I ended up rolling it into its grave.
I felt bad as I pushed the dirt onto it's small, inky body. This being that had existed almost solely in the air was to spend the rest of time encased in earth. But the dirt was soft, and it smelled like rain. I said a prayer for it as I tamped down the dirt and hoped that, when the time came, someone would say a prayer for me, too.
It was a dead crow. It didn't look like it'd been gone for very long. It was glossy blue-black and about a foot or so long. It's little eyes were only just starting to turn a milky white.
I knew I couldn't leave it out there. My dogs, not sharing my feelings about all things dead, would gnaw on this bird, possibly breaking it up and carrying the pieces around before rolling around on what was left. This was not an option for me.
I looked to my neighbors' yards. Could I toss it over the fence without anyone seeing me? I quickly dashed this thought. All of our neighbors have dogs, who would react much the same way mine would, I'm sure. Also, I felt guilty about making this bird someone else's responsibility, or giving someone else the chance not to care about it. It fell out of the sky in my yard. It was here for me to deal with and I would.
For a minute I wondered if it was a bad omen. My mom thinks that ravens are my grandmother, visiting her in the physical world. Owls are my grandfather. That this bird had died in my yard, and it was the kind of bird my mom favors, didn't seem to bode well. Then it occured to me that maybe it was in my yard for that very reason. Of the people in the area, I alone would give it the dignity it deserved. I know it sounds like I was being awfully self-important, but I don't do well with dead things and was probably just steeling myself for what I knew I had to do.
I went to the garage and got out my big shovel. It hadn't done much good against the ice on the driveway, but I knew it was perfect for this task. Luckily, the it had rained all last night, so the ground was soft and easy to turn. I dug a hole about a foot wide and a foot and a half long.
Using the shovel, I tried to pick the bird up, but it kept slipping off so I ended up rolling it into its grave.
I felt bad as I pushed the dirt onto it's small, inky body. This being that had existed almost solely in the air was to spend the rest of time encased in earth. But the dirt was soft, and it smelled like rain. I said a prayer for it as I tamped down the dirt and hoped that, when the time came, someone would say a prayer for me, too.
The ears and eyes
When "The Family Stone" came out in theaters, I wasn't much interested. The promos for it looked silly so I figured I'd save my money. However, it came on InDemand the other night, so I decided to give it a whirl. I'm really glad I did. It was very sweet and funny. I was surprised, however, how sad it was, in parts. I cried, a bunch.
On the audio front, I bought Gwen Steffani's newest effort, "The Sweet Escape." I've loved everything else she's done and was excited to see that she had a new album out. However, I was very disapointed when I listened to it. It seems she's trying out all kinds of new sounds, most predominately more of a hiphop, rap feel, which I'm just not that into, or if I were, I wouldn't chose her as the delivery device. She still has a fabulous voice, that manages to shine through. So, I think that one will probably start to gather dust pretty quickly while I continue to listen to LAMB over and over.
Another CD I got was Corinne Bailey Rae's self-titled album. I saw her on, I think, Boston Legal, and wanted to check out the rest of her work. I LOVE this album! It's smooth and soft, but leaves you feeling mellow and jazzy. She's got a wonderful voice that is similar to Norah Jones, but not the same. It's very familiar, almost like Billie Holiday. I'm going to make a copy for my dad tonight.
On the audio front, I bought Gwen Steffani's newest effort, "The Sweet Escape." I've loved everything else she's done and was excited to see that she had a new album out. However, I was very disapointed when I listened to it. It seems she's trying out all kinds of new sounds, most predominately more of a hiphop, rap feel, which I'm just not that into, or if I were, I wouldn't chose her as the delivery device. She still has a fabulous voice, that manages to shine through. So, I think that one will probably start to gather dust pretty quickly while I continue to listen to LAMB over and over.
Another CD I got was Corinne Bailey Rae's self-titled album. I saw her on, I think, Boston Legal, and wanted to check out the rest of her work. I LOVE this album! It's smooth and soft, but leaves you feeling mellow and jazzy. She's got a wonderful voice that is similar to Norah Jones, but not the same. It's very familiar, almost like Billie Holiday. I'm going to make a copy for my dad tonight.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt
I just thought I'd tell everyone how cool it is to have friends. I'm just saying.
Pants and I went for a while with a few, handpicked friends for the first year or so that we were here. It was nice, and there were times of fun to be had, but for the most part we were newlyweds and any spare time that we had together was rare and precious and spent ... well that's really none of your business.
But for some reason (Actually I blame this phenomenon squarely on Pants and his affable personality) we've been branching out over the past year or so and getting invites to do all kinds of fun stuff with people we really like.
An example? This weekend we went bowling and then drinking with six friends, two from Tulsa, two from South Korea and two from OKC. This U.N. meeting went to Route 66 Bowl, which was super fun. After drinking some really bad, beer-flavored water we went to the Hi Lo bar. I'd never been, but I know I had fun.
A margarita after getting there (I was driving, so not so much with the drinking for me) I was watching our friends tell jokes, laugh, and run around the room with their pretend stinky fingers extended. (That really seemed to upset this suicidal-looking guy sitting by himself in the corner) and I realized that I was having a fantastic time.
We'd all gotten past that awkward first-meeting stage. Pants had already offended most of them and they came back anyways. We'd found out who believed in what and what video games we were most likely to suck at and were having that euphoric, relieved good time that comes when you've found people that you feel comfortable with and can do fun things with. It was odd, because much in the way a drunk girl wants to tell you how drunk she is, I wanted to tell everyone how much fun I was having and how cool it was that we were all friends. Of course, not wanting to freak out said people (you can never know exactly how much a drunk person will remember the next day) I just smiled and told a dirty joke.
Continuing our mini-vacation, we met up with four friends Monday for an 8-year-old's dream. That's right. We drove go-karts. Except these people were serious about it. It's a huge track and they make you sign a waiver saying your heirs won't sue them if you go up in a ball of fire. Also, that you will pay for anything that breaks on the $6,000 karts. Yeah. So we had a great time until they let these jerks in. It was like six pissed-off guys all got dumped at the same time and decided to prove to each other who was really the MAN ... at the go-kart races.
So they let them race with our peace-loving group. They proceeded to push, bump and cajole in a way that's frowned upon by people outside of a boxing match. When those guys were leaving us alone, however, it ROCKED. I laughed for the entire first lap, it was so much fun. Also, don't want to brag, but I totally got second place out of six people.
Afterwards it was on to margaritas and Mexican food. I was surprised, and delighted, when the possibility of more bowling was brought up. So back to Route 66 bowl we went!
This time I sucked it up bad. I'd been playing pretty good for someone who never goes bowling and had broken 100 each of the last three time's I've played, but Monday I stunk. My arm hurt from using a too-heavy ball and I resigned myself to just knocking down a pin each time it was my turn. It didn't hurt that I'm not a pro bowler and have little skill, but I'm blaming the ball on this one -- that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
My dissatisfaction with my ball and the lack of decent balls for women (man is that going to be misconstrued) led me to decide that I should try to buy a second-hand bowling ball that would fit. I don't know if you have noticed, but if you're a woman and you go to a public bowling place, it's almost impossible to find a ball that's light enough, but also has finger holes that are big enough. I'm not saying I have sausage fingers, but gimme a break. By the time I got done bowling it was like I had been working at my office computer for 12 hours. Carpel tunnel here I come. Also, I chipped my nail polish, which did not help matters.
On the up side, I did have a good time and it was nice to hang out with people who are "marathoners" like myself. My mom calls me a marathoner, because I don't want to do just one thing. I always try to get as much bang for my buck as possible. You don't meet just a ton of people who are willing to go for several events in the same day, so that was really nice. The margaritas, however, needed a lot more umph and less ice.
Pants and I went for a while with a few, handpicked friends for the first year or so that we were here. It was nice, and there were times of fun to be had, but for the most part we were newlyweds and any spare time that we had together was rare and precious and spent ... well that's really none of your business.
But for some reason (Actually I blame this phenomenon squarely on Pants and his affable personality) we've been branching out over the past year or so and getting invites to do all kinds of fun stuff with people we really like.
An example? This weekend we went bowling and then drinking with six friends, two from Tulsa, two from South Korea and two from OKC. This U.N. meeting went to Route 66 Bowl, which was super fun. After drinking some really bad, beer-flavored water we went to the Hi Lo bar. I'd never been, but I know I had fun.
A margarita after getting there (I was driving, so not so much with the drinking for me) I was watching our friends tell jokes, laugh, and run around the room with their pretend stinky fingers extended. (That really seemed to upset this suicidal-looking guy sitting by himself in the corner) and I realized that I was having a fantastic time.
We'd all gotten past that awkward first-meeting stage. Pants had already offended most of them and they came back anyways. We'd found out who believed in what and what video games we were most likely to suck at and were having that euphoric, relieved good time that comes when you've found people that you feel comfortable with and can do fun things with. It was odd, because much in the way a drunk girl wants to tell you how drunk she is, I wanted to tell everyone how much fun I was having and how cool it was that we were all friends. Of course, not wanting to freak out said people (you can never know exactly how much a drunk person will remember the next day) I just smiled and told a dirty joke.
Continuing our mini-vacation, we met up with four friends Monday for an 8-year-old's dream. That's right. We drove go-karts. Except these people were serious about it. It's a huge track and they make you sign a waiver saying your heirs won't sue them if you go up in a ball of fire. Also, that you will pay for anything that breaks on the $6,000 karts. Yeah. So we had a great time until they let these jerks in. It was like six pissed-off guys all got dumped at the same time and decided to prove to each other who was really the MAN ... at the go-kart races.
So they let them race with our peace-loving group. They proceeded to push, bump and cajole in a way that's frowned upon by people outside of a boxing match. When those guys were leaving us alone, however, it ROCKED. I laughed for the entire first lap, it was so much fun. Also, don't want to brag, but I totally got second place out of six people.
Afterwards it was on to margaritas and Mexican food. I was surprised, and delighted, when the possibility of more bowling was brought up. So back to Route 66 bowl we went!
This time I sucked it up bad. I'd been playing pretty good for someone who never goes bowling and had broken 100 each of the last three time's I've played, but Monday I stunk. My arm hurt from using a too-heavy ball and I resigned myself to just knocking down a pin each time it was my turn. It didn't hurt that I'm not a pro bowler and have little skill, but I'm blaming the ball on this one -- that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
My dissatisfaction with my ball and the lack of decent balls for women (man is that going to be misconstrued) led me to decide that I should try to buy a second-hand bowling ball that would fit. I don't know if you have noticed, but if you're a woman and you go to a public bowling place, it's almost impossible to find a ball that's light enough, but also has finger holes that are big enough. I'm not saying I have sausage fingers, but gimme a break. By the time I got done bowling it was like I had been working at my office computer for 12 hours. Carpel tunnel here I come. Also, I chipped my nail polish, which did not help matters.
On the up side, I did have a good time and it was nice to hang out with people who are "marathoners" like myself. My mom calls me a marathoner, because I don't want to do just one thing. I always try to get as much bang for my buck as possible. You don't meet just a ton of people who are willing to go for several events in the same day, so that was really nice. The margaritas, however, needed a lot more umph and less ice.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Pre-bedlam
We got to go to the Texas Tech/OSU game and had an awesome time. Here are pictures to prove it!
I was across the arena, but you can still make out Bobby Knight trying to pay off the refs.
These are not the fans you're looking for! I wondered if they gave a Jedi discount...
I wonder whose father he is? Did he lose the paternity suit and this was part of his punishment?
Who to vote for....
Pants' old duplex, and the famed "Vesta" stove that I guess they've changed into a lawn ornament.
I was across the arena, but you can still make out Bobby Knight trying to pay off the refs.
These are not the fans you're looking for! I wondered if they gave a Jedi discount...
I wonder whose father he is? Did he lose the paternity suit and this was part of his punishment?
Who to vote for....
Pants' old duplex, and the famed "Vesta" stove that I guess they've changed into a lawn ornament.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
I did it!
Had to write and brag. I weighed myself this morning and I finally did it. I broke the weight level that I've been at for a long time. I now weigh as much as I did four years ago!!! I've been feeling thinner around the waist and fingers, but haven't been able to see the difference in numbers, until today! I did it! Gold star sticker for me!
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Happy Valentine's Day
Today I was helping my little brother look at apartments.
At one apartment complex we discussed rent with the manager, a lady in her late 50s, early 60s, well-dressed and very cheerful.
About five minutes into the conversation a man in his 30s walks in the front door and heads right to her holding a beautiful bouquet of roses. I watched while he smiled, handed them to her and then hugged her. I couldn't see a familial connection so I was trying to figure out if they were somehow seeing each other.
She laughed as she sat down and started to tear up. She looked up at us and explained that she had the best son-in-law in the world. She said that before dying a few years ago, her husband had secretly made her son-in-law promise to always get her roses on Valentine's Day from him.
She radiated happiness while she told us this. She then shook herself and got right back to explaining rates and electric bills, but before she could get through two sentences she'd started to tear up. She had to excuse herself for a minute, then she went back to business.
I thought this was probably one of the sweetest things I'd ever witnessed on Valentine's Day, or any other day for that matter.
At one apartment complex we discussed rent with the manager, a lady in her late 50s, early 60s, well-dressed and very cheerful.
About five minutes into the conversation a man in his 30s walks in the front door and heads right to her holding a beautiful bouquet of roses. I watched while he smiled, handed them to her and then hugged her. I couldn't see a familial connection so I was trying to figure out if they were somehow seeing each other.
She laughed as she sat down and started to tear up. She looked up at us and explained that she had the best son-in-law in the world. She said that before dying a few years ago, her husband had secretly made her son-in-law promise to always get her roses on Valentine's Day from him.
She radiated happiness while she told us this. She then shook herself and got right back to explaining rates and electric bills, but before she could get through two sentences she'd started to tear up. She had to excuse herself for a minute, then she went back to business.
I thought this was probably one of the sweetest things I'd ever witnessed on Valentine's Day, or any other day for that matter.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
And then...
Thoughts for the day that are in no way whining.
-I was called an "idiot", albeit indirectly at lunch. I'm going to have to start coming up with some more snappy comebacks to take to the eating place with me.
-I've turned into an iPod widow. I didn't mean to, but I totally did this to myself. I bought Pants the video iPod for Christmas with the intention of garnering the wife-of-the-year award and instead I lost a husband. Before marriage, I fully understood and dealt with the fact that, during football season, I would rarely see Pants. I was OK with that because during football season, there's tons of other things happening that I can go to that Pants wouldn't think twice about attending with me (fall craft sales anyone?) so I could go to these things with a clear conscience that Pants was happily pacified at home in front of the TV. However, now he's spending hours in the home office ripping our massive DVD collection to the iPod and brings the iPod to bed to watch sometimes before he goes to sleep. I've even seen him bring it to the living room and sit in front of Awesome-o 5001, while the TV is on, and watch his iPod. I've created a monster and the worst part is, I did it to myself. I knew I should have gotten him that freezer, at least then I'd be getting tons of good food stocked up.
-I love the word Hater-ade. I learned it watching wrestling of some sort when a Matt Damon look-alike used it. I used to be a big Triple-H fan, but that guy's looking old these days and John Cena looks like he's just stepped out of some kind of Supremacy. And that Shawn Michaels, buddy, get a freakin' hair cut, please. Your wussy hair just makes you look that much older and implausible as a wrestler. Now, I'm sure you've had your day in the sun when you were awesome, but these days that hair's really hurting you. At least The Edge's hair is purty. Lita, his girlfriend/wife/skank, on the other hand, needs to quit dying her hair that tacky, wanna be Goth red color. Yuck. She's got it all frizzy because it's been over-dyed and she's out there tossing it around like that's supposed to attract a guy. Not that I'm a super-seductress or anything, but I do know ugly hair. She needs a hot oil treatment or something. I also found the fact that when The Edge and Lena decided to celebrate his recent Champion title with a live sex act in the middle of the wrestling ring Pants got uncomfortable. Mr. I-love-porn thought that was too much. It was pretty silly altogether, so it was that much funnier that he thought it was beyond the pale. I think that's about it for now, but I'll probably give my further thoughts on wrestling and the hair that flows in coming weeks, not that you care.
-I was called an "idiot", albeit indirectly at lunch. I'm going to have to start coming up with some more snappy comebacks to take to the eating place with me.
-I've turned into an iPod widow. I didn't mean to, but I totally did this to myself. I bought Pants the video iPod for Christmas with the intention of garnering the wife-of-the-year award and instead I lost a husband. Before marriage, I fully understood and dealt with the fact that, during football season, I would rarely see Pants. I was OK with that because during football season, there's tons of other things happening that I can go to that Pants wouldn't think twice about attending with me (fall craft sales anyone?) so I could go to these things with a clear conscience that Pants was happily pacified at home in front of the TV. However, now he's spending hours in the home office ripping our massive DVD collection to the iPod and brings the iPod to bed to watch sometimes before he goes to sleep. I've even seen him bring it to the living room and sit in front of Awesome-o 5001, while the TV is on, and watch his iPod. I've created a monster and the worst part is, I did it to myself. I knew I should have gotten him that freezer, at least then I'd be getting tons of good food stocked up.
-I love the word Hater-ade. I learned it watching wrestling of some sort when a Matt Damon look-alike used it. I used to be a big Triple-H fan, but that guy's looking old these days and John Cena looks like he's just stepped out of some kind of Supremacy. And that Shawn Michaels, buddy, get a freakin' hair cut, please. Your wussy hair just makes you look that much older and implausible as a wrestler. Now, I'm sure you've had your day in the sun when you were awesome, but these days that hair's really hurting you. At least The Edge's hair is purty. Lita, his girlfriend/wife/skank, on the other hand, needs to quit dying her hair that tacky, wanna be Goth red color. Yuck. She's got it all frizzy because it's been over-dyed and she's out there tossing it around like that's supposed to attract a guy. Not that I'm a super-seductress or anything, but I do know ugly hair. She needs a hot oil treatment or something. I also found the fact that when The Edge and Lena decided to celebrate his recent Champion title with a live sex act in the middle of the wrestling ring Pants got uncomfortable. Mr. I-love-porn thought that was too much. It was pretty silly altogether, so it was that much funnier that he thought it was beyond the pale. I think that's about it for now, but I'll probably give my further thoughts on wrestling and the hair that flows in coming weeks, not that you care.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Merry despite everyone else
I don't care how much you all hate the holidays and the crass commercialism that they inevitably bring. I love them. Maybe it's because I had an idyllic childhood and a huge, happy family. Christmas? Love it.
Giving gifts to people? It makes me happy. I love taking time to pick out something that I think will make someone else happy, that might bring them some kind of pleasure. Something that could possibly show them that I care and that I did listen when they said they had a particular hobby or interest or need that year. As Michael Scott says, it's like saying "I love you an iPod worth." Granted, I'm not bringing anything nearly that expensive to the table...OK, we did get my dad one, but he had it coming. He's an awesome dad and totally deserved a really great gift from a kid that he gives everything to.
I also love all of the trimmings that come with the Holiday season. I'm not particularly religious, but I do celebrate Christmas as a gathering of friends and family that sometimes trades gifts but more often than not is happy to share good times and tons of great food. Maybe I should just say that I celebrate the holidays, because there's no church involved.
I love all of the food. My dad gets tons of food from coworkers every year and always brought home some really great stuff, so besides my mom's cooking, there's always another reason to visit during the holidays. But when she does cook, oh man. She makes her own fudge, there's always three or four tins of chex mix hidden throughout the house. The roasts, the mashed potatoes, the gravy, it's truly a wonderful time of the year.
The decorations are fun, too. I don't care how tacky they may seem to some people. I love the pine boughs, the bright ribbons, the richly textured fabrics, the plaids. I love putting up my decorations every year. It always feels kind of bare when I have to store them afterwards. I love a simple strand of white lights. I'm not huge on ornaments, but this year I did buy myself a glass one shaped like a red, double-decker bus from London. You know why? It made me happy.
And the music. I love it. I can't take it year-round like my mom, but I do like it for about a week before Christmas. I love the traditional carols, the singing, the classical music, the instrumentals, the newer, Beatles version of things. Pants, an admitted Christmas music hater, even said he liked Elvis' "Blue Christmas" the other day. Gets me in the spirit and excited about the holiday. I think we all need a little excitement, something to look forward to.
And Christmas eve, I still get excited. I know there's no Santa, no one's leaving any surprises in my stocking (Pants already filled it up), and it's not nearly what it was when I was a kid, but I still get goosebumps. Something's coming, something fun. People all over the world are thinking the same thing, it's fun and exciting to be part of something that big. (I also get a little teary whenever I see a live parade. I know, I'm weird. I blame marching band and my grandmother.)
I'm not huge on Christmas sweaters, but my theory is that if wearing something that others consider to be a holiday monstrosity makes you happy and doesn't harm any small children or animals in the process, go for it. Life is too short to worry about others, wear the thing and don't care about anyone else.
Shopping. I do enjoy a task, especially one that allows me to shop. I love shopping. Duh. It's not retail therapy, but the challenge that I adore. I have a set amount of money and time, so I have to find the best sales in my city. Granted, I try to do my shopping throughout the year. If there's a sale at JCREW during the summer, well I'll stock up and put them in the guest closet and forget about them until it's time to wrap them and send them on their way. This method worked especially good this year. I was able to get hints from people throughout the year on what they wanted/liked and catch three or four unbelievable sales and got almost all my shopping done way early.
I'm thinking about a career in personal shopping. My mother just couldn't find anything for one of my cousins, but she had a ballpark on what she wanted to spend and a general idea of what to get. So Monday I went to work. Within two hours I'd returned videos to Blockbuster, tried to swap a fullscreen edition of Road to Perdition for a widescreen one at BestBuy (they didn't have it), picked up lunch at Wendy's, gotten the rest of my supplies for my Christmas cards at Hobby Lobby and gone to two other stores that had exactly what I needed, on clearance, for my cousin's gift. It was a good day.
I guess what I'm saying is that I'm going to have a great holiday season, eat wonderful food, be thankful for a fantastic family and husband and just enjoy the hell out of everything despite all you holiday haters.
Giving gifts to people? It makes me happy. I love taking time to pick out something that I think will make someone else happy, that might bring them some kind of pleasure. Something that could possibly show them that I care and that I did listen when they said they had a particular hobby or interest or need that year. As Michael Scott says, it's like saying "I love you an iPod worth." Granted, I'm not bringing anything nearly that expensive to the table...OK, we did get my dad one, but he had it coming. He's an awesome dad and totally deserved a really great gift from a kid that he gives everything to.
I also love all of the trimmings that come with the Holiday season. I'm not particularly religious, but I do celebrate Christmas as a gathering of friends and family that sometimes trades gifts but more often than not is happy to share good times and tons of great food. Maybe I should just say that I celebrate the holidays, because there's no church involved.
I love all of the food. My dad gets tons of food from coworkers every year and always brought home some really great stuff, so besides my mom's cooking, there's always another reason to visit during the holidays. But when she does cook, oh man. She makes her own fudge, there's always three or four tins of chex mix hidden throughout the house. The roasts, the mashed potatoes, the gravy, it's truly a wonderful time of the year.
The decorations are fun, too. I don't care how tacky they may seem to some people. I love the pine boughs, the bright ribbons, the richly textured fabrics, the plaids. I love putting up my decorations every year. It always feels kind of bare when I have to store them afterwards. I love a simple strand of white lights. I'm not huge on ornaments, but this year I did buy myself a glass one shaped like a red, double-decker bus from London. You know why? It made me happy.
And the music. I love it. I can't take it year-round like my mom, but I do like it for about a week before Christmas. I love the traditional carols, the singing, the classical music, the instrumentals, the newer, Beatles version of things. Pants, an admitted Christmas music hater, even said he liked Elvis' "Blue Christmas" the other day. Gets me in the spirit and excited about the holiday. I think we all need a little excitement, something to look forward to.
And Christmas eve, I still get excited. I know there's no Santa, no one's leaving any surprises in my stocking (Pants already filled it up), and it's not nearly what it was when I was a kid, but I still get goosebumps. Something's coming, something fun. People all over the world are thinking the same thing, it's fun and exciting to be part of something that big. (I also get a little teary whenever I see a live parade. I know, I'm weird. I blame marching band and my grandmother.)
I'm not huge on Christmas sweaters, but my theory is that if wearing something that others consider to be a holiday monstrosity makes you happy and doesn't harm any small children or animals in the process, go for it. Life is too short to worry about others, wear the thing and don't care about anyone else.
Shopping. I do enjoy a task, especially one that allows me to shop. I love shopping. Duh. It's not retail therapy, but the challenge that I adore. I have a set amount of money and time, so I have to find the best sales in my city. Granted, I try to do my shopping throughout the year. If there's a sale at JCREW during the summer, well I'll stock up and put them in the guest closet and forget about them until it's time to wrap them and send them on their way. This method worked especially good this year. I was able to get hints from people throughout the year on what they wanted/liked and catch three or four unbelievable sales and got almost all my shopping done way early.
I'm thinking about a career in personal shopping. My mother just couldn't find anything for one of my cousins, but she had a ballpark on what she wanted to spend and a general idea of what to get. So Monday I went to work. Within two hours I'd returned videos to Blockbuster, tried to swap a fullscreen edition of Road to Perdition for a widescreen one at BestBuy (they didn't have it), picked up lunch at Wendy's, gotten the rest of my supplies for my Christmas cards at Hobby Lobby and gone to two other stores that had exactly what I needed, on clearance, for my cousin's gift. It was a good day.
I guess what I'm saying is that I'm going to have a great holiday season, eat wonderful food, be thankful for a fantastic family and husband and just enjoy the hell out of everything despite all you holiday haters.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Where have all the monies gone?
Christmas is fast approaching and I find myself watching my money run away just as speedily.
Being poor sucks. Being able to pay all of our bills, but not being able to buy all of the little fun things sucks.
It's so much easier to buy the little things and just be in debt. Happy, but in debt.
A coworker was telling me about a savings account he had for his children's Christmas toys this year. I was so impressed that he'd thought about this so far in advance and had planned it all out. I admire people with strict budgets who actually stick to them.
On the other hand, I've been buying little gifts since last Christmas was over, catching sales here and there, in the hopes that I'd have my shopping done long before Christmas and not have a huge lump sum due because of holiday shopping.
For the most part this has worked pretty well. I do have most of my shopping done, but I keep finding things that would be wonderful to give to people, that I just know that they will love, but I don't have the money to get for them. Furthermore, no one expects me to shell out the money to get them all of these things, but I like to give stuff.
That being said, I did splurge on one gift. Pants will receive it on Christmas and I'll let him brag, if he likes it. I think he will, but I don't know. I'm trying my best to keep it a secret, because he is far too smart and is very likely to guess what it is. I'm going to pull on all of my gifting knowledge to keep it a secret and misdirect him in his guesses, but who knows. The man's a smartie.
It's also weird to get your spouse an expensive gift. Because you share finances, well most spouses do, it's like they've actually bought themselves the gift. Sure, you signed the credit card receipt, but they'll help you pay the bill when it comes. So I'm always tempted to tell Pants not to worry about it and just get me some chocolate or flowers or a small book or something.
Then there's the gift guessing. People that you know, but aren't friends with, people you work with, but don't hang out with, people you've started hanging out with since last Christmas, but don't have a gift history with. What to do? Do you assume and get them something then feel awkward or put them in an awkward place if they didn't get you anything? Do you assume they won't get you anything then feel stupid when they did get you something?
Maybe I should make cookies, everyone likes cookies. Then again, some people are allergic, or don't like raisins.
Being poor sucks. Being able to pay all of our bills, but not being able to buy all of the little fun things sucks.
It's so much easier to buy the little things and just be in debt. Happy, but in debt.
A coworker was telling me about a savings account he had for his children's Christmas toys this year. I was so impressed that he'd thought about this so far in advance and had planned it all out. I admire people with strict budgets who actually stick to them.
On the other hand, I've been buying little gifts since last Christmas was over, catching sales here and there, in the hopes that I'd have my shopping done long before Christmas and not have a huge lump sum due because of holiday shopping.
For the most part this has worked pretty well. I do have most of my shopping done, but I keep finding things that would be wonderful to give to people, that I just know that they will love, but I don't have the money to get for them. Furthermore, no one expects me to shell out the money to get them all of these things, but I like to give stuff.
That being said, I did splurge on one gift. Pants will receive it on Christmas and I'll let him brag, if he likes it. I think he will, but I don't know. I'm trying my best to keep it a secret, because he is far too smart and is very likely to guess what it is. I'm going to pull on all of my gifting knowledge to keep it a secret and misdirect him in his guesses, but who knows. The man's a smartie.
It's also weird to get your spouse an expensive gift. Because you share finances, well most spouses do, it's like they've actually bought themselves the gift. Sure, you signed the credit card receipt, but they'll help you pay the bill when it comes. So I'm always tempted to tell Pants not to worry about it and just get me some chocolate or flowers or a small book or something.
Then there's the gift guessing. People that you know, but aren't friends with, people you work with, but don't hang out with, people you've started hanging out with since last Christmas, but don't have a gift history with. What to do? Do you assume and get them something then feel awkward or put them in an awkward place if they didn't get you anything? Do you assume they won't get you anything then feel stupid when they did get you something?
Maybe I should make cookies, everyone likes cookies. Then again, some people are allergic, or don't like raisins.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Goodbyes are hard, unless it's someone you dislike
Roundup:
Arkansas: You have lovely hills and the leaves are beautiful. The people are (for the most part) very nice and the food is awesome. I love that La Masion du Tart has bushes of herbs growing outside. Also, the fresh bread is so yummy, I had some this morning for breakfast.
Target: To quote Pants, and a tv show, "You magnificent bastard!" I write a post about crocheting and the next day you have yarn and needles available on your dollar aisle? Have you been reading my blog??? Also, I love your dog paraphernalia. My dogs love both their flannel and toile beds that were purchased from your oft-tread aisles.
crocheting/knitting: So I got tons of advice, thanks mostly to Brit, who I hope makes it to the U.S. without much trouble. I also checked out crocheting ( and knitting) for dummies, which have proved pretty useful, except that I'm still lost on how to do a granny square. I followed the instructions, but I think they're just poorly worded, I need lots and lots of pictures to show me what I'm supposed to be doing. OH well. I'll just keep making little doggie sweaters.
Dogs: Love mine.
My little brother's EX-girlfriend: That's right! He broke up with her! Thank goodness, it only took a couple of years, but my little brother has managed to do some pretty amazing (for him) and mature things lately. He broke up with his user girlfriend because he knew she was more into it than he and that it was going no where. Also, he got a good job with a lot of potential to go a lot higher and I think he feels like he's got more of a purpose now.
IPods: They're everywhere and I love mine, but am confused as to how I managed to fill it so fast. I was making my Christmas shopping list the other day and realized that an iPod would be the perfect gift for just about everyone on my list. This, of course, would only be a realistic answer to my shopping needs if I were making about twice what I do now. So. Yeah, homemade scarves it is!
Batman Begins: I loved this movie when it came out, it's still a really awesome movie now. However, in watching it again last weekend, I noticed lots of inconsistencies and things that just wouldn't work. Such as: Raj al Gould is using what is basically a vaporizor for water and creating a poisonous steam out of the city's water supply to make everyone crazy. This wouldn't work. The human body is made up of mostly water, and a vaporizor that was that powerful would have totally vaporized a lot of people that were between the vaporizor and the water supply, as well as the city's water supply. I'm just saying. Granted, it's a movie, it's fiction and we're supposed to suspend belief in reality for the duration of the film. However, they don't tell you the rules, so you assume things like gravity work. Christian Bale, however, makes it worth watching. If you want to watch this young genius in his early years, catch "Empire of the Sun." It's awesome.
Twix: I know I bought you for trick or treaters, but you're all mine, now.
Arkansas: You have lovely hills and the leaves are beautiful. The people are (for the most part) very nice and the food is awesome. I love that La Masion du Tart has bushes of herbs growing outside. Also, the fresh bread is so yummy, I had some this morning for breakfast.
Target: To quote Pants, and a tv show, "You magnificent bastard!" I write a post about crocheting and the next day you have yarn and needles available on your dollar aisle? Have you been reading my blog??? Also, I love your dog paraphernalia. My dogs love both their flannel and toile beds that were purchased from your oft-tread aisles.
crocheting/knitting: So I got tons of advice, thanks mostly to Brit, who I hope makes it to the U.S. without much trouble. I also checked out crocheting ( and knitting) for dummies, which have proved pretty useful, except that I'm still lost on how to do a granny square. I followed the instructions, but I think they're just poorly worded, I need lots and lots of pictures to show me what I'm supposed to be doing. OH well. I'll just keep making little doggie sweaters.
Dogs: Love mine.
My little brother's EX-girlfriend: That's right! He broke up with her! Thank goodness, it only took a couple of years, but my little brother has managed to do some pretty amazing (for him) and mature things lately. He broke up with his user girlfriend because he knew she was more into it than he and that it was going no where. Also, he got a good job with a lot of potential to go a lot higher and I think he feels like he's got more of a purpose now.
IPods: They're everywhere and I love mine, but am confused as to how I managed to fill it so fast. I was making my Christmas shopping list the other day and realized that an iPod would be the perfect gift for just about everyone on my list. This, of course, would only be a realistic answer to my shopping needs if I were making about twice what I do now. So. Yeah, homemade scarves it is!
Batman Begins: I loved this movie when it came out, it's still a really awesome movie now. However, in watching it again last weekend, I noticed lots of inconsistencies and things that just wouldn't work. Such as: Raj al Gould is using what is basically a vaporizor for water and creating a poisonous steam out of the city's water supply to make everyone crazy. This wouldn't work. The human body is made up of mostly water, and a vaporizor that was that powerful would have totally vaporized a lot of people that were between the vaporizor and the water supply, as well as the city's water supply. I'm just saying. Granted, it's a movie, it's fiction and we're supposed to suspend belief in reality for the duration of the film. However, they don't tell you the rules, so you assume things like gravity work. Christian Bale, however, makes it worth watching. If you want to watch this young genius in his early years, catch "Empire of the Sun." It's awesome.
Twix: I know I bought you for trick or treaters, but you're all mine, now.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
All purled up with no where to go
OK people, I need some suggestions. Unlike Pants, I'm not asking the hard-hitting questions like "What ring-tone should I get?" That's already a given, I'll be using "Sex bomb" by Tom Jones. My query is a bit more knotty, literally. When I was very little, my grandma taught me to crochet.
Nothing fancy, but I could chain like a mo-fo, and, in fourth-grade moved on to single and double stitches. I was mass-producing the coolest scarves in the world. All sorts of colors and yarns, but they all had the same stitches. Borrrringg.
So in college I taught myself to knit by reading Web sites. I thought this could be my out, I could finally start doing crazy bags or ponchos for my dog. Not so much. For some reason knitting just seems to take even longer than crocheting, so I've gone back to the crocheting.
In the past two weeks, I've done two scarves, a manly blue one for my brother and a shorter, thicker one that has a slit on one of the ends so you can pull the other side of it through for my mom. I'm going to add some beads that pick up the color later, to "fancy" it up a bit, but my yarn imagination is reaching a stretching point. I need help people.
Does anyone know of any good, simple instruction books for crocheting or knitting? Any good places to take classes? I've found that I learn this kind of thing best when someone just shows me how. I'd love to get into doing sweater, cardigans, bags etc. Any ideas?
Nothing fancy, but I could chain like a mo-fo, and, in fourth-grade moved on to single and double stitches. I was mass-producing the coolest scarves in the world. All sorts of colors and yarns, but they all had the same stitches. Borrrringg.
So in college I taught myself to knit by reading Web sites. I thought this could be my out, I could finally start doing crazy bags or ponchos for my dog. Not so much. For some reason knitting just seems to take even longer than crocheting, so I've gone back to the crocheting.
In the past two weeks, I've done two scarves, a manly blue one for my brother and a shorter, thicker one that has a slit on one of the ends so you can pull the other side of it through for my mom. I'm going to add some beads that pick up the color later, to "fancy" it up a bit, but my yarn imagination is reaching a stretching point. I need help people.
Does anyone know of any good, simple instruction books for crocheting or knitting? Any good places to take classes? I've found that I learn this kind of thing best when someone just shows me how. I'd love to get into doing sweater, cardigans, bags etc. Any ideas?
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Just don't know what to do with myself
Actually, I do. I've got tons of cleaning to do. I have company coming over tomorrow and an office that Pant swore he was going to clean, but is still flooded with comic books all over the floor. But I thought I'd take time and procrastinate and give a few thoughts on things.
Hurricanes:
They suck. All of 'em. For many reasons.
IRA disarmament:
Let's hope this lasts for a while. I was listening to NPR and Terry Gross, I think, was interviewing an official who wouldn't tell her what actually happened to the arms. He kept saying that they'd been rendered unusable and that was good enough, he couldn't say more because of secrecy concerns. Well you know what? If the IRA hears that you've melted all of their arms, they're certainly not going to try to break into whatever storehouse you have these stockpiled in and steal them back. Just seems like they could have done a little counter-offensive with the PR there.
Bring the abortion issue to SCOTUS: (I describe partial-birth abortion here, so you may want to skip to the next item or quit reading altogether)
Bad idea if it's to repeal Roe V. Wade, good idea if it's about partial birth abortions with the vital exemptions made for minors and those births that would kill the mother or child. I'm not saying it's a good idea to kill babies. Period. But that's a choice I've made for myself. If some woman is out there and gets raped and doesn't want to be pregnant by that bastard and gets an abortion right away or takes the day after pill, I think she should have that option. Same goes for a woman that finds out the kid she's carrying is going to be stillborn, etc. I think it's just not a black and white issue and we need to allow for all of the grey out there.
And this is one issue where I don't think men should be allowed to vote or have a say what-so-ever. None. It's certainly not their bodies and only an issue that they will ever have to deal with second-hand, if that. I don't think that a 50 something old man who fucked up the majority of his early life and is now fucking up the country, who will never, ever be pregnant, or raped by anyone besides Cheney, should be able to tell me what to do with my reproductive system.
Having said all of that, however, I will definitely have children and wouldn't have an abortion. I do take precautions, which I think a lot more people should. I think birth control should be free, I don't care how obscene it is to have a condom dispenser in the high school, as long as it works, why should you? They're going to do it anyway, it's not encouraging them to have sex, that would be if we left copies of porn or kama sutras around the halls of learning.
As for partial birth abortions, I'm not sure what late-night television channel it was, but one morning, about 4 a.m. I saw one of these performed on TV. OH. MY. GOD. It was horrible. They take a lady who's pretty late term, full belly and all, someone who could probably be induced into labor right then and the baby would live, it'd be a premie, but it'd live and might grow up just fine. Anyway, they take this lady and go inside her and pull the baby out feet first. They pull it until just the head is still inside the lady. Then, they take a sharp instrument and stick it up into the baby's head where it's skull meets the neck and scramble the poor little baby's brains out. They can do this because the infant is still technically inside the mom when the head is in there. If they did it after completely removing the baby then it'd be murder. So you can see why this would be a bad thing. I mean, if you're that far along, why not just deliver it and give it up for adoption? It's not like you didn't have seven or eight months to think about it.
The White Stripes:
You two still rock the Kasbah and everything in between.
As for Cindy, mom of dead soldier, Sheehan:
Good for you. I don't care if people attack you personally or say that you're using your dead son's memory to advance your opinions. That's what the other side is doing, so it's only fair to fight fire with fire. We have the right to free speech, you have the right to tell the president of the united states that you don't like the job he's doing representing you. I hate that, for expressing your opinion and letting people know that you aren't for the status quo and that something's not right about the way things are being done, you are being punished. If it'd been a protest FOR the war, the protestors would never have been arrested, FOX would have just had them on their TV and the story would have been something about all of the support the nation has for bush junior or something and how great America is that people can express their opinion. The problem is that we're such a big country that not everyone can do this and we only get two or three people, like rice, Cheney, rove and the president's nanny telling him what a great job he's doing while millions across the world hate him and millions in his own country are starting to realize they've elected a leader that only makes monkey faces to cameras and speeches where he repeats himself over and over without actually telling you anything. Then there's the millions who hated him to begin with and are embarrassed to call themselves American because we didn't vote for the bastard and are ashamed over what he's doing to the country. That and we have the leader of the most powerful country in the world and he sounds like a first-grader from hicksville (and that's an insult to people from hicksville) who can't pronounce words! But, whatever, he's going to be our fuck-up for the next few years, so I'm just going to sigh and try not to get too upset over it, he's not worth it. When I travel abroad, I'll just tell people I'm from Canada.
Dogs:
One of mine is now AKC registered and the other I got for $10 at the animal shelter. I love them both. They're mine, you can't have them!
Flat, India-inspired sequined shoes:
Love 'em. I'm so glad that fashion is going back to flat shoes and that we can find something so comfy. Plus, who doesn't love a little taste of India? OK, my little taste is some sweet Naan bread, the tiki masala made me nauseous, but it may have just been that restaurant.
My brother's girlfriend:
I don't care if you two are moving in together, you're still not part of my family. I know all about how he broke up with you and how you cursed him up and down and your little pregnancy scare and how you treated him and then how you freaked him out enough that he took you back. You realize he's just using you for the sex and that he doesn't want to marry you, right? God, I hope he doesn't just marry you because you tell him to, because that's the kind of thing he'll do because he doesn't know better. You don't inspire him to be a better person. If you loved him, you'd tell him that he's gained to much weight (nicely) and you'd encourage him to go back to school or get a job that he loves. For whatever reason, though, he's keeping you in his life and on the off chance that you legally become part of our family, I'll be polite to you. But I'm watching you, one mis-step and you're out. No one mistreats my family. I've been watching Godfather movies, so I have tons of ideas of what to do with hoochie mammas that mistreat one of the family. You've been warned.
Hurricanes:
They suck. All of 'em. For many reasons.
IRA disarmament:
Let's hope this lasts for a while. I was listening to NPR and Terry Gross, I think, was interviewing an official who wouldn't tell her what actually happened to the arms. He kept saying that they'd been rendered unusable and that was good enough, he couldn't say more because of secrecy concerns. Well you know what? If the IRA hears that you've melted all of their arms, they're certainly not going to try to break into whatever storehouse you have these stockpiled in and steal them back. Just seems like they could have done a little counter-offensive with the PR there.
Bring the abortion issue to SCOTUS: (I describe partial-birth abortion here, so you may want to skip to the next item or quit reading altogether)
Bad idea if it's to repeal Roe V. Wade, good idea if it's about partial birth abortions with the vital exemptions made for minors and those births that would kill the mother or child. I'm not saying it's a good idea to kill babies. Period. But that's a choice I've made for myself. If some woman is out there and gets raped and doesn't want to be pregnant by that bastard and gets an abortion right away or takes the day after pill, I think she should have that option. Same goes for a woman that finds out the kid she's carrying is going to be stillborn, etc. I think it's just not a black and white issue and we need to allow for all of the grey out there.
And this is one issue where I don't think men should be allowed to vote or have a say what-so-ever. None. It's certainly not their bodies and only an issue that they will ever have to deal with second-hand, if that. I don't think that a 50 something old man who fucked up the majority of his early life and is now fucking up the country, who will never, ever be pregnant, or raped by anyone besides Cheney, should be able to tell me what to do with my reproductive system.
Having said all of that, however, I will definitely have children and wouldn't have an abortion. I do take precautions, which I think a lot more people should. I think birth control should be free, I don't care how obscene it is to have a condom dispenser in the high school, as long as it works, why should you? They're going to do it anyway, it's not encouraging them to have sex, that would be if we left copies of porn or kama sutras around the halls of learning.
As for partial birth abortions, I'm not sure what late-night television channel it was, but one morning, about 4 a.m. I saw one of these performed on TV. OH. MY. GOD. It was horrible. They take a lady who's pretty late term, full belly and all, someone who could probably be induced into labor right then and the baby would live, it'd be a premie, but it'd live and might grow up just fine. Anyway, they take this lady and go inside her and pull the baby out feet first. They pull it until just the head is still inside the lady. Then, they take a sharp instrument and stick it up into the baby's head where it's skull meets the neck and scramble the poor little baby's brains out. They can do this because the infant is still technically inside the mom when the head is in there. If they did it after completely removing the baby then it'd be murder. So you can see why this would be a bad thing. I mean, if you're that far along, why not just deliver it and give it up for adoption? It's not like you didn't have seven or eight months to think about it.
The White Stripes:
You two still rock the Kasbah and everything in between.
As for Cindy, mom of dead soldier, Sheehan:
Good for you. I don't care if people attack you personally or say that you're using your dead son's memory to advance your opinions. That's what the other side is doing, so it's only fair to fight fire with fire. We have the right to free speech, you have the right to tell the president of the united states that you don't like the job he's doing representing you. I hate that, for expressing your opinion and letting people know that you aren't for the status quo and that something's not right about the way things are being done, you are being punished. If it'd been a protest FOR the war, the protestors would never have been arrested, FOX would have just had them on their TV and the story would have been something about all of the support the nation has for bush junior or something and how great America is that people can express their opinion. The problem is that we're such a big country that not everyone can do this and we only get two or three people, like rice, Cheney, rove and the president's nanny telling him what a great job he's doing while millions across the world hate him and millions in his own country are starting to realize they've elected a leader that only makes monkey faces to cameras and speeches where he repeats himself over and over without actually telling you anything. Then there's the millions who hated him to begin with and are embarrassed to call themselves American because we didn't vote for the bastard and are ashamed over what he's doing to the country. That and we have the leader of the most powerful country in the world and he sounds like a first-grader from hicksville (and that's an insult to people from hicksville) who can't pronounce words! But, whatever, he's going to be our fuck-up for the next few years, so I'm just going to sigh and try not to get too upset over it, he's not worth it. When I travel abroad, I'll just tell people I'm from Canada.
Dogs:
One of mine is now AKC registered and the other I got for $10 at the animal shelter. I love them both. They're mine, you can't have them!
Flat, India-inspired sequined shoes:
Love 'em. I'm so glad that fashion is going back to flat shoes and that we can find something so comfy. Plus, who doesn't love a little taste of India? OK, my little taste is some sweet Naan bread, the tiki masala made me nauseous, but it may have just been that restaurant.
My brother's girlfriend:
I don't care if you two are moving in together, you're still not part of my family. I know all about how he broke up with you and how you cursed him up and down and your little pregnancy scare and how you treated him and then how you freaked him out enough that he took you back. You realize he's just using you for the sex and that he doesn't want to marry you, right? God, I hope he doesn't just marry you because you tell him to, because that's the kind of thing he'll do because he doesn't know better. You don't inspire him to be a better person. If you loved him, you'd tell him that he's gained to much weight (nicely) and you'd encourage him to go back to school or get a job that he loves. For whatever reason, though, he's keeping you in his life and on the off chance that you legally become part of our family, I'll be polite to you. But I'm watching you, one mis-step and you're out. No one mistreats my family. I've been watching Godfather movies, so I have tons of ideas of what to do with hoochie mammas that mistreat one of the family. You've been warned.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
I swear I'm not a hypocondriac ...
I'm not. Really. But I did go to the doctor yesterday. And it was the first time I've been since I got the flu about two years ago. On that fateful visit, I was crazy with fever and felt the need to sing "I'm a little teapot" while waiting three hours in the waiting room and another two hours in the room where you actually see the doctor. Yes, I sang, but I was in great pain and it was then, putting up with my craziness, that I knew Pants loved me.
I knew he loved me before, but this was the "in sickness" part of the vow. He took his book, something about a bite on a corn dog, and read and murmmered an occasional "yes dear" to me while I crawled the walls looking for the green doctor who I was sure was hiding in the air vent.
My experience yesterday was much better. I came prepared, loaded up with bottled water, a book on Henry XIII and my crocheting. I opened the front door of the after hours clinic though, and was faced with an empty waiting room. I didn't think I had a fever, but I was sure this had to be a mirage. I cautiously approached the receptionist, and she gave me the necessary paperwork to fill out right away. No waiting.
My name was called and I was ushered into a room to see a doctor right away. I thought, this will be a nice change, I won't feel so guilty for taking up the doctor's time because there aren't any other patients and he's getting paid to be here regardless. Turns out I did have a fever, and higher blood pressure than normal, the nurse said that was because I was sick, but I think that was because I'd just gotten off work.
The doctor came in and hardly made eye contact. I tried to look appropriately sick enough, but both he and the nurse looked at me distrustingly at first, like they assumed I was faking. Seeing as they had my chart right in front of them and could tell that I hadn't been there in about two years, I felt this was unjustified. If I come to you, and you are a trained, professional healer, and I tell you I'm in pain -- try and freakin' heal me! Don't assume I'm a liar or drug addict. It's not like I can get primo narcotics for sinusitus (which is what it turned out that I have). Well, I suppose I can, but that's never been an option afforded to me.
I always feel like I'm such an imposition to these doctors, and it's not specific to this clinic. I know they've got a busy day and only so many minutes to wait on each person and are probably overbooked, but none of that is my fault and I'm in pain. If I had my druthers, I would so not be bothering them and would definitely be saving my money instead of giving them another co-payment.
If I tell you I'm in pain, I'm serious. I'm not making this up and I'd rather not be here. I know you're busy, so I prepared my list of ailments, and the time frames in which I experienced said illnesses for you. Maybe that's why they are suspicious, I've got everything ready. They mistake my preparedness for some fabrication I've been planning to get some precious antibiotics and nasal spray.
Also, I hate nasal sprays. It seems wrong to have an adult tell me to put something up my nose on purpose, which my mom always told me was a bad thing. Also, breathing a liquid up into my nose, throat and lungs, makes me feel a bit like choking, so fun times. Pants told me this morning I'd never be good at cocaine. Oh well, I guess I'll have to put my dreams of being a junkie away with the one about being an orthodontist. (Mine drove jaguars.)
So, $100 poorer and much more medicated, today is a better day. I just sound like crap and am coughing. Despite all that, I'm not contagious ... so let's hug it out bitch!
I knew he loved me before, but this was the "in sickness" part of the vow. He took his book, something about a bite on a corn dog, and read and murmmered an occasional "yes dear" to me while I crawled the walls looking for the green doctor who I was sure was hiding in the air vent.
My experience yesterday was much better. I came prepared, loaded up with bottled water, a book on Henry XIII and my crocheting. I opened the front door of the after hours clinic though, and was faced with an empty waiting room. I didn't think I had a fever, but I was sure this had to be a mirage. I cautiously approached the receptionist, and she gave me the necessary paperwork to fill out right away. No waiting.
My name was called and I was ushered into a room to see a doctor right away. I thought, this will be a nice change, I won't feel so guilty for taking up the doctor's time because there aren't any other patients and he's getting paid to be here regardless. Turns out I did have a fever, and higher blood pressure than normal, the nurse said that was because I was sick, but I think that was because I'd just gotten off work.
The doctor came in and hardly made eye contact. I tried to look appropriately sick enough, but both he and the nurse looked at me distrustingly at first, like they assumed I was faking. Seeing as they had my chart right in front of them and could tell that I hadn't been there in about two years, I felt this was unjustified. If I come to you, and you are a trained, professional healer, and I tell you I'm in pain -- try and freakin' heal me! Don't assume I'm a liar or drug addict. It's not like I can get primo narcotics for sinusitus (which is what it turned out that I have). Well, I suppose I can, but that's never been an option afforded to me.
I always feel like I'm such an imposition to these doctors, and it's not specific to this clinic. I know they've got a busy day and only so many minutes to wait on each person and are probably overbooked, but none of that is my fault and I'm in pain. If I had my druthers, I would so not be bothering them and would definitely be saving my money instead of giving them another co-payment.
If I tell you I'm in pain, I'm serious. I'm not making this up and I'd rather not be here. I know you're busy, so I prepared my list of ailments, and the time frames in which I experienced said illnesses for you. Maybe that's why they are suspicious, I've got everything ready. They mistake my preparedness for some fabrication I've been planning to get some precious antibiotics and nasal spray.
Also, I hate nasal sprays. It seems wrong to have an adult tell me to put something up my nose on purpose, which my mom always told me was a bad thing. Also, breathing a liquid up into my nose, throat and lungs, makes me feel a bit like choking, so fun times. Pants told me this morning I'd never be good at cocaine. Oh well, I guess I'll have to put my dreams of being a junkie away with the one about being an orthodontist. (Mine drove jaguars.)
So, $100 poorer and much more medicated, today is a better day. I just sound like crap and am coughing. Despite all that, I'm not contagious ... so let's hug it out bitch!
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Where the Hell are you?
Do you ever wonder what happened to old friends? About once a month, I think about what my friend from France is doing. Did she kill herself as I fear? Did she end up dumping her drug habit and going to school? Did she hook up with some German tourist who smelled like Drakkar Noir and have a bunch of babies?
The last time I heard from her was seven years ago. It was the summer between high school and college. I was working for my aunt and uncle, who owned a motel and a coffee/icecream/sandwich shoppe (that's how they spelled it) in mountains in Colorado. They liked to hire foreign exchange students to work for them, so it made sense that the first person I ever had to share a room with was half Japanese, half French.
Her name was Miya, her father was a Japanese sleep scientist working in France and her mother was French and had killed herself by jumping off of a building shortly before Miya came to the U.S.
I guess I'd lived a pretty sheltered life, and she was a breath of scary, fresh air. Her first day, she showed up wearing a sports bra and some floppy pants, highlighting her diamond encrusted belly button ring. I'd never been around someone who I knew had a belly button ring.
I wasn't sure about her at first, she came off as very worldly and intimidating. However, because I can't help myself and love to tell other people how to do things, I started helping her understand both American slang and culture, and we became very good friends.
The beginning was rough. We got up early every morning, walked down the mountain to the motel, then worked until noon as maids cleaning and making beds. After an hour lunch break, we'd go to work in the ice cream shop.
On one of our days off, I came back to our shared room at my aunt an uncle's very large house to find her passed out on the floor of the bathroom. Oh, did I forget to say that she was an anorexic/bulemic who'd been taking her dead mother's antidepressants and other medications? She'd evidently binged on a jar of peanut butter from the pantry and smeared it all over the walls of the bathroom before passing out.
I called my aunt, who took away Miya's stolen medications and I think had a serious talk with her. I was freaked out by this, but wanted to help her get better.
For the rest of the summer, we had a lot of fun and I introduced her to Beavis and Butthead, one of my favorite movies "French Kiss" (She said Kevin Kline's accent was horrible), horseback riding, the natural hot springs, and even driving.
While I didn't bring my car with me to Colorado, (hence I walked/hiked everywhere and was in the best shape of my life), I did have a high school friend come visit me and I taught Miya to drive his car. Despite being a few years older than me, living in France had not afforded her the chance to ever get behind the wheel. She was delighted for the experience and taught me a smattering of French that summer.
She told me she had an older sister in Germany who kind of looked out for her and a younger brother that was still living with her dad in France. She didn't know what she was going to do once she got back to France, but she did say she was going to move out of her boyfriend's apartment. She said she'd thought about suicide before, but didn't think she could do it. She wouldn't really talk about her mom, understandable. We didn't really talk about guys much, but she did manage to pick up a few of the single motel guests.
When I left to go to college at the end of summer, she stayed on for another month in Colorado. She sent me a few pictures a month later. I wrote to her in Colorado and in France, but have never heard back from her.
I still wonder what she's doing, or if she's even alive. And I always think of her when I smell the perfume magique noir.
The last time I heard from her was seven years ago. It was the summer between high school and college. I was working for my aunt and uncle, who owned a motel and a coffee/icecream/sandwich shoppe (that's how they spelled it) in mountains in Colorado. They liked to hire foreign exchange students to work for them, so it made sense that the first person I ever had to share a room with was half Japanese, half French.
Her name was Miya, her father was a Japanese sleep scientist working in France and her mother was French and had killed herself by jumping off of a building shortly before Miya came to the U.S.
I guess I'd lived a pretty sheltered life, and she was a breath of scary, fresh air. Her first day, she showed up wearing a sports bra and some floppy pants, highlighting her diamond encrusted belly button ring. I'd never been around someone who I knew had a belly button ring.
I wasn't sure about her at first, she came off as very worldly and intimidating. However, because I can't help myself and love to tell other people how to do things, I started helping her understand both American slang and culture, and we became very good friends.
The beginning was rough. We got up early every morning, walked down the mountain to the motel, then worked until noon as maids cleaning and making beds. After an hour lunch break, we'd go to work in the ice cream shop.
On one of our days off, I came back to our shared room at my aunt an uncle's very large house to find her passed out on the floor of the bathroom. Oh, did I forget to say that she was an anorexic/bulemic who'd been taking her dead mother's antidepressants and other medications? She'd evidently binged on a jar of peanut butter from the pantry and smeared it all over the walls of the bathroom before passing out.
I called my aunt, who took away Miya's stolen medications and I think had a serious talk with her. I was freaked out by this, but wanted to help her get better.
For the rest of the summer, we had a lot of fun and I introduced her to Beavis and Butthead, one of my favorite movies "French Kiss" (She said Kevin Kline's accent was horrible), horseback riding, the natural hot springs, and even driving.
While I didn't bring my car with me to Colorado, (hence I walked/hiked everywhere and was in the best shape of my life), I did have a high school friend come visit me and I taught Miya to drive his car. Despite being a few years older than me, living in France had not afforded her the chance to ever get behind the wheel. She was delighted for the experience and taught me a smattering of French that summer.
She told me she had an older sister in Germany who kind of looked out for her and a younger brother that was still living with her dad in France. She didn't know what she was going to do once she got back to France, but she did say she was going to move out of her boyfriend's apartment. She said she'd thought about suicide before, but didn't think she could do it. She wouldn't really talk about her mom, understandable. We didn't really talk about guys much, but she did manage to pick up a few of the single motel guests.
When I left to go to college at the end of summer, she stayed on for another month in Colorado. She sent me a few pictures a month later. I wrote to her in Colorado and in France, but have never heard back from her.
I still wonder what she's doing, or if she's even alive. And I always think of her when I smell the perfume magique noir.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Monday, July 18, 2005
Done, and I totally know who the half-blood prince is
Okay. Wow. I just finished HPATHBP, and it was by far one of the best books I've read in years.
I couldn't make myself slow down at the end, I had to know what was happening as fast as possible! It is such a fantastic story, the intelligence behind the writing is unbelievable. And, even though I'm at work, I even cried a bit at the end. (Not because it was over, which is a bit sad, but because a major character that I liked had died.)
J.K. Rowling has tied this series up and prepared the reader for the final book, the last chapter in the Harry Potter saga and I can't wait to see what comes next! There were things in this book (the sixth) that I'd wondered about since the first, she's just that good of a writer.
I must admit that after I finished reading, I had a thought I was kind of ashamed of. What if Rowling dies before she finishes the series? I selfishly hope that she's left some sort of plans for the seventh and final book somewhere, just in case. Crude, I know, but it would be horrible for her to die period, but it would be truly horrible for her to go without getting to finish what she started. She claims to have not told even her husband what she's got planned for Harry and Co., but who knows. I'd have a backup somewhere outlining the details, then again, she may not want anyone to finish it for her.
I think I'm going to go re-read it now ...
I couldn't make myself slow down at the end, I had to know what was happening as fast as possible! It is such a fantastic story, the intelligence behind the writing is unbelievable. And, even though I'm at work, I even cried a bit at the end. (Not because it was over, which is a bit sad, but because a major character that I liked had died.)
J.K. Rowling has tied this series up and prepared the reader for the final book, the last chapter in the Harry Potter saga and I can't wait to see what comes next! There were things in this book (the sixth) that I'd wondered about since the first, she's just that good of a writer.
I must admit that after I finished reading, I had a thought I was kind of ashamed of. What if Rowling dies before she finishes the series? I selfishly hope that she's left some sort of plans for the seventh and final book somewhere, just in case. Crude, I know, but it would be horrible for her to die period, but it would be truly horrible for her to go without getting to finish what she started. She claims to have not told even her husband what she's got planned for Harry and Co., but who knows. I'd have a backup somewhere outlining the details, then again, she may not want anyone to finish it for her.
I think I'm going to go re-read it now ...
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Shush! I'm trying to read here...
It's here. It arrived today in the mailbox, all wrapped up in a white Amazon box with warnings on the sides: "Don't open until July 16!" "Do not deliver until July 16!"
I smuggled it inside and carefully opened the box, having some ambiguous idea for keeping the wrapping to show my mom or put in a scrapbook later. ...It'll probably get thrown away though.
I must admit, I've been less than enthused about the release of this book, until today, when I started reading it.
During the summer break between my sophomore and junior years in college, my editor at the magazine I was interning at insisted that I read these "Potter" books. Until then, I'd been dismissing them as some kind of peripheral children's phenomenon. But, if a 60-year-old menopausal woman could be so insistent, I'd give it a try. Thank goodness I did, not that it takes much to get me to read a book. I used to drive my parents crazy by bringing a good paperback to any and all sporting events we attended.
I read "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" (book #3) first. It started off slow, then I was hooked. I was delighted to find that there were a few others in the series and proceeded to read "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" (book #1) then, "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets" (book #2), then I decided to go ahead and read the last one out at the time, "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" (book #4). (Which also is my favorite in the series.) I had Potter fever.
Not too long after I started my current job, I was excited to hear that the fifth book, "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" was coming out. I've learned to temper my excitement over the Little Wizard that Could, however, because of the state we live in. Maybe I should just say some of the people in the state we live in.
I was talking to someone I know about the release, she was telling me that it shouldn't be getting as much publicity as it was and I asked her why she thought this. ( I know, I shouldn't have asked) She told me that she thought Harry Potter was how the devil got to children. She really, honestly, thinks that the devil himself is penning these books in order to enslave children worldround. She bases this, not on having ever read any of the books, but what she's heard about them and all of that witchcraft that it teaches children. Yeah..... I'm wondering if she's ever told her child any fairy tales? Anything that's not "real?" I know she doesn't go home and read the obits to her kid every night.
This is an otherwise very nice person that I like talking with. I was just blown away that she felt this way about a novel, something totally imaginary that's sold a lot of copies and has encouraged children and adults alike to read. Yeah, an escape mechanism for people that doesn't include a hangover but might increase your vocabulary or creativity ... I could totally see how that's a bad thing.
Anyway, back to my books! (Yes, I used a possessive, I bought 'em and I have conversations with J.K., granted, she's got that pesky restraining order....)
I read the fifth book in record time ( I love how everyone is always so proud of how fast they've read these books) and was a bit disappointed. The story moved along pretty fast, but there were so many questions raised and I hate waiting for the next installation to come out.
When I heard "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" had a release date, I immediately ordered it on Amazon and circled every calendar I owned. When the time finally came, I didn't even get out my black circle glasses and put them on my desk. I'm a bit ashamed to say that I have been really busy with "adult" things like work, and cleaning the house, that I kinda forgot.
When I found the book in the mailbox today, the excitement started to come back. When I sat on our (new) couch and opened the book, sniffed the new paper and ink smell and started the first chapter, it all came back. I LOVE THIS SERIES! Pants and I have even talked about naming our first son Harry.
I am trying to take it slow and savor the story, but I've already found a typo or two. So far, so good, the story is moving a lot better than the fifth book. Pants already knows he won't be seeing much of me for the next few days. The dogs will be a bit confused, but that's nothing new.
I have two more books that I've been waiting on since last year that will finally be released in August. I'll post more on them once I get them. Until then, I've got a book to finish!
I smuggled it inside and carefully opened the box, having some ambiguous idea for keeping the wrapping to show my mom or put in a scrapbook later. ...It'll probably get thrown away though.
I must admit, I've been less than enthused about the release of this book, until today, when I started reading it.
During the summer break between my sophomore and junior years in college, my editor at the magazine I was interning at insisted that I read these "Potter" books. Until then, I'd been dismissing them as some kind of peripheral children's phenomenon. But, if a 60-year-old menopausal woman could be so insistent, I'd give it a try. Thank goodness I did, not that it takes much to get me to read a book. I used to drive my parents crazy by bringing a good paperback to any and all sporting events we attended.
I read "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" (book #3) first. It started off slow, then I was hooked. I was delighted to find that there were a few others in the series and proceeded to read "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" (book #1) then, "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets" (book #2), then I decided to go ahead and read the last one out at the time, "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" (book #4). (Which also is my favorite in the series.) I had Potter fever.
Not too long after I started my current job, I was excited to hear that the fifth book, "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" was coming out. I've learned to temper my excitement over the Little Wizard that Could, however, because of the state we live in. Maybe I should just say some of the people in the state we live in.
I was talking to someone I know about the release, she was telling me that it shouldn't be getting as much publicity as it was and I asked her why she thought this. ( I know, I shouldn't have asked) She told me that she thought Harry Potter was how the devil got to children. She really, honestly, thinks that the devil himself is penning these books in order to enslave children worldround. She bases this, not on having ever read any of the books, but what she's heard about them and all of that witchcraft that it teaches children. Yeah..... I'm wondering if she's ever told her child any fairy tales? Anything that's not "real?" I know she doesn't go home and read the obits to her kid every night.
This is an otherwise very nice person that I like talking with. I was just blown away that she felt this way about a novel, something totally imaginary that's sold a lot of copies and has encouraged children and adults alike to read. Yeah, an escape mechanism for people that doesn't include a hangover but might increase your vocabulary or creativity ... I could totally see how that's a bad thing.
Anyway, back to my books! (Yes, I used a possessive, I bought 'em and I have conversations with J.K., granted, she's got that pesky restraining order....)
I read the fifth book in record time ( I love how everyone is always so proud of how fast they've read these books) and was a bit disappointed. The story moved along pretty fast, but there were so many questions raised and I hate waiting for the next installation to come out.
When I heard "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" had a release date, I immediately ordered it on Amazon and circled every calendar I owned. When the time finally came, I didn't even get out my black circle glasses and put them on my desk. I'm a bit ashamed to say that I have been really busy with "adult" things like work, and cleaning the house, that I kinda forgot.
When I found the book in the mailbox today, the excitement started to come back. When I sat on our (new) couch and opened the book, sniffed the new paper and ink smell and started the first chapter, it all came back. I LOVE THIS SERIES! Pants and I have even talked about naming our first son Harry.
I am trying to take it slow and savor the story, but I've already found a typo or two. So far, so good, the story is moving a lot better than the fifth book. Pants already knows he won't be seeing much of me for the next few days. The dogs will be a bit confused, but that's nothing new.
I have two more books that I've been waiting on since last year that will finally be released in August. I'll post more on them once I get them. Until then, I've got a book to finish!
Thursday, July 07, 2005
London calling
I'm continually amazed at people. In surfing the internet and watching TV, admittedly not always the best news sources, but sometimes the fastest, I found a dearth of people quoted/talking about how surprising this was and how they were "shocked."
Really? Terrorism in this day and age surprises you? Most of the world is at war with someone else for various reasons, people are dying daily from all sorts of abuse from other people and explosions in London surprise you?
It couldn't be that it's a major metropolitan city, could it? I couldn't be that it's the country hosting one of the world's largest meetings of superpowers right now. Or that they just won the Olympic bid, or that the city's been around for thousands of years, or that it has lots of countries pissed at it for colonization and many other global enemies.
I also dislike how some people assume it was Middle Eastern terrorists. Get over yourself. It very well could be, but it could also be lots of other people that have very different beefs with London. Hell, it could be just a crazy Brit, mad because they lost their job.
Does the media give fair play to all assumptions? (I'm not sure why they're even covering assumptions, instead of watching for cold, hard facts, but I guess they have to have something on the air constantly.)
In listening to the radio this morning (it happened to be on the "Sports Animal," a channel I loathe), the local jocks were saying how atrocious this was (agreed there), and how these "people," these Arab terrorists were all out to get us for our love of freedom (what the Hell?) and how we should stop these people. I'm not sure, but I think they totally convicted the entire Middle East. Made me wonder if they had better sources than the AP or were just their usual jack-ass selves.
The only thing that was kind of curious this morning was the total lack of comment from the Queen or any of the royal family. I know they're just figure heads, but at least they could pop those powerless faces out of their hidy-holes and give a comment.
All that being said, I'm still going back to London. The time I spent there was one of the happiest in my life and I'm totally dragging Pants across the pond to experience it. The city is amazing and resilient, it has to be to have been around for this long. I can't wait!
Really? Terrorism in this day and age surprises you? Most of the world is at war with someone else for various reasons, people are dying daily from all sorts of abuse from other people and explosions in London surprise you?
It couldn't be that it's a major metropolitan city, could it? I couldn't be that it's the country hosting one of the world's largest meetings of superpowers right now. Or that they just won the Olympic bid, or that the city's been around for thousands of years, or that it has lots of countries pissed at it for colonization and many other global enemies.
I also dislike how some people assume it was Middle Eastern terrorists. Get over yourself. It very well could be, but it could also be lots of other people that have very different beefs with London. Hell, it could be just a crazy Brit, mad because they lost their job.
Does the media give fair play to all assumptions? (I'm not sure why they're even covering assumptions, instead of watching for cold, hard facts, but I guess they have to have something on the air constantly.)
In listening to the radio this morning (it happened to be on the "Sports Animal," a channel I loathe), the local jocks were saying how atrocious this was (agreed there), and how these "people," these Arab terrorists were all out to get us for our love of freedom (what the Hell?) and how we should stop these people. I'm not sure, but I think they totally convicted the entire Middle East. Made me wonder if they had better sources than the AP or were just their usual jack-ass selves.
The only thing that was kind of curious this morning was the total lack of comment from the Queen or any of the royal family. I know they're just figure heads, but at least they could pop those powerless faces out of their hidy-holes and give a comment.
All that being said, I'm still going back to London. The time I spent there was one of the happiest in my life and I'm totally dragging Pants across the pond to experience it. The city is amazing and resilient, it has to be to have been around for this long. I can't wait!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)