Filosofia y Flores

Clammering Toward the End of the Tunnel

2008-08-22T16:58:00.002-05:00

or How to Spend Two Straight Days Trying To Fix Your Computer and Another Day Wiping and Reinstalling Your Life.

I'm getting back to normal, but Hubster was out of town when all this crap went down, so I had to reformat all by my lonesome. It was intimidating, but I'm proud to announce that I'm currently typing this on my own computer which is (so far) virus-free and (again, so far) fully functioning.

So I finally updated the banner image, a clue that there will probably be more changes to come, but we'll see. I have a backlog of images to attend to from pretty much the last YEAR of my life, so I'll see about changing the look of this site.

Have a great weekend. I'll be picking out tile for my kitchen renovation next weekend. Woo!

Linking Wednesday, or OH, MY POOR COMPUTER!

2008-08-20T22:35:00.005-05:00

All ready to blog again, but nowhere to type. Somehow, my computer got STEAMROLLED by a horrific virus. I spent my entire workday either scanning for viruses, rebooting into safe mode, or on the phone with the company tech guy (shout-out to J!). My system is still ganked and there's no end in sight. Except reinstalling EV-ER-Y-THING. It's moments like these when I wish we didn't always get the upgrade versions of the Adobe Creative Suite. I might (conceivably) have to install Adobe CS, CS2, plus CS3 before dumping the former two to save precious space for all the projects I mean to tackle with CS3. To quote Liz Lemon, "blurg!"

Whilst I pull out my hair, enjoy the following linkage.

1. It wouldn't be me without the requisite McSweeney's entry, and this one delivers. Enjoy "Increasingly Dangerous Cheeses." Delicious.

2. You may or may not have seen this before, but if you missed it somehow, enjoy the following coverage of the "Hipster Olympics" on YouTube. It's 100% Brody and Chaz approved. By which I mean, of course, that they are utterly apathetic to it.

3. One of my recent blog finds is GlossedOver.Com whose tagline reads: I have magazine issues. The voice is clever and perfectly reflects the delight-to-ambivalence-to-anger spectrum of emotions I feel when reading fashion mags. Plus it's hilarious. Enjoy this (rather long) live-blog of reading the legendary tome that IS the September issue of Vogue Magazine. Sweet mercy.

4. On a related note, this article from Slate (really tapping the old wells on this one, huh?) reviews the attitudes of some of the major womens mags to the current economy. Results: ridiculous, as expected.

Well, I'm up to my eyeballs in stress and sick of Hubster's strange keyboard, so I'm out.

BASTA. (or Enough Already!)

2008-08-18T12:55:00.002-05:00

I've been avoiding the Fyf like an ex-boyfriend. It stops now. I'm not sure what starts up now, but at least I won't be waffling mentally (as painful as it sounds, and no, there's no delicious syrup involved) about whether to write promising more writing, to write promising to end this thing once and for all, or to write in order to waffle on the blog about the blog.

Ahem, does anyone else have a headache? Now do you understand the avoidance?

Anyhoodle, the time has come to stop with the waffles and start with the facing o' the problems: I haven't written in WAY too long. And I think I might want to change that. Stay tuned. Or tune out. But at least I acknowledged the elephant in the room: the waffles.

Incoherent Drama Queen w/ Broadband Connection OUT.

Blogger Still Alive, In Holiday Stupor

2007-12-29T19:19:00.000-05:00

It's been flat-out nuts around here for weeks. Between my return from Argentina and New Year's, our schedule shows a trip to Indy (for that Colts game - I owe you pictures), a trip to Michigan, a trip to Upstate New York (for Christmas with Hubster's fam) with an extended stay in Lancaster (which we're still on now), plus two weddings (one in DC and the other tomorrow in Pennsylvania), and a visit from sister-in-law G and the in-laws dog (who has multiple problems stemming from Lyme's Disease, poor pooch), and I think that's all the heavies. I'm just glad to be seated and relaxing at the moment.

I'll back in the saddle after New Year's. But until then, two awesome videos my choir director sent around from YouTube. Good choral-themed times, people.

The Hallelujah Nuns:

The 12 Days of Christmas Medley:

Yet another time waster.

2007-11-13T19:55:00.000-05:00

I only post when I have something trivial or pictoral to present. In that vein . . .

The Blog Readability Test yielded the following results when applied to my blog:

I am lame.

Five-Year-Old Erica Speaks

2007-11-08T23:05:00.000-05:00

While I sit and contemplate the glacial pace at which Sprint is dealing with my complicated phone upgrade situation whilst listening to admonitions that indicate someone will be with me shortly, I thought I'd post something. It's probably better for my longterm prospects than the other option I was considering: gouging my eyes out with office supplies. I was thinking of using the thumb drive. It doesn't seem to be working on my computer anyway, so it's no grave loss to our media storage, right?

Gruesome notions aside, some of you noticed in my image dump of yesterday that my grandfather has the library of many a book-lover's dreams. It is, indeed, a sight to behold. Let's see it again.

My, that is PRETTY.

When I was five years old, my family had moved to Patagonia, so I was living at a distance from my beloved grandparents. Fortunately, some friends of the family in the South were headed back to my hometown for a wedding and they didn't mind bringing along little ole me. My suitcase was packed and I headed out with them on the 30-hr drive. I think a rock hit the windshield while we were going along so the windshield shattered and we lost some time. That was memorable. What I failed to remember was what I said to my grandparents upon landing on their doorstep. (Direct quotes supplied by Grandpa.)

"When you die, I would like to have your house. Now, I don't want you to die, but I know that you will. When that happens, I would like your house."

Five-year-old Erica has more stones than the current model, apparently. Unfortunately, there are a lot of book-lovers in the family so I will not have undisputed claim over that beaut.

Well, they've gotten to my call and it's time to try yet another hare-brained scheme to make this work. Wish me luck, or at least the courage of my younger days.

Argentine Dispatch #3 - Photos I

2007-11-07T23:36:00.000-05:00

At last I'm done with my photographic processing. Earlier today, I was trying to white balance the ceiling in my own bedroom. As I was starring at it. In, like, MY REAL LIFE. I have spent WAY TOO MUCH TIME in Camera Raw of late, but at least my photo backlog just got cut in half. My pain and mental issues - your gain.

Note: If you're looking at this in Internet Explorer: 1) Why are you using that old thing when Mozilla Firefox is better and free? 2) You might not be able to get the captions and pretty picture-viewing interface that you're supposed to be seeing. I suggest you go straight to my flickr set or, even better, make the switch to Firefox and look at my site there.

"Arco iris" is a much cooler way of saying "rainbow."

2007-10-31T21:29:00.000-05:00

I'm almost halfway done processing pictures from the trip. The image header right now is from one of them. It's not the most spectacular shot because it was taken through a bus window and rainbows tend to occur in moist (and therefore grey) conditions, but it's nice. We took a bus ride for part of our journey to the part of Patagonia where I lived, and we saw a rainbow. We actually passed right underneath it as it spanned a valley through which we rode. And no matter how cliche I want that to be, it still makes me smile.

Overheard, While I Was Out Edition

2007-10-29T22:33:00.001-05:00

While I was gone, Hubster's cousin got married and his father's family got together. This rare event was highlighted by the following conversation between K, his grandmother (with rather advanced dementia), and his reserved-but-bitingly-witty uncle.

Hubster: blah blah blah Erica's still in Argentina blah blah blah wine and steak.

Grams: Who's taking piano lessons?

Uncle: Darn right it's cold in here!

The End.

I swear this was like the first thing my husband told me about when I got home. "Welcome to the United States, baby! And now a funny and slightly cruel story about making fun of my elders. Glad to have you back!"

Chasing a High

2007-10-28T22:04:00.000-05:00

A week ago I was trying to pack for home. My grandparents' bathroom scale was waiting to weigh my bag, and I was trying to guess whether they'd charge me the overweight bag fee or just let it go like the last time. The details helped me stay numb about leaving. It's not that I'm unhappy to return to life here. The end of any vacation is bittersweet, and this was a lot more than a usual vacation. For one thing, most vacations aren't permeated by your favorite smell on the planet.

Argentina has a smell. When I told my friends there they were surprised - you can smell a country? The quality changes, as it does with any place, but it's fixed in my mind. My grandparents house has always had the most concentrated scent - wood, wine, leather, cheese, meat, soaps, books, coffee, pastries. The entire country smells of mate and beef and perfume and I don't know what. Writing about it makes me feel dumb, but then again so does sticking my head in my luggage just to catch a whiff of it. The folds of the clothes trap it. The insides of the packages I brought back contain a bit. It's been disappearing all week, but that doesn't make it any less real.

That smell always meant good things. When family would visit, wheeling their bags in their room (which was usually my room I'd given up for them) I would catch my first hint of it. Then the blessed hour would arrive and they'd unzip them and bring out our treasures. It was always Christmas when someone came from Argentina. Dulce de leche was handed out and before rationing would begin, my mom would often let me have a teaspoonful straight from the jar. Mate was unpacked by the kilo for Dad - Rosamonte, a brand I rarely stray from to this day. We kids usually got presents of some kind. Mom and I got that certain Spanish soap she loves. All those memories of delight were made over that smell of their bags, of the place in which they were packed.

Now that smell I love, the smell I lived in for twenty-six days is evaporating from things. It's dissolving into the air of my home, and I can't seem to find it anymore. It might not sound all that good. Maybe no one even knows about it by me, but that smell is one of my favorite things in the world, and it's disappearing again. I would almost trade it for one of the many beautiful and special things I brought back with me.

My bag weighed 33kilos (almost 73lbs). It was full of presents, clothes, almost 4kilos of cheese, and the best smell I know. Now it's empty. The cheese is in the fridge waiting to be cut and probably frozen before being transported to my family's house where my father will gleefully throw it on the grill and we'll all gleefully try to cheat each other out of the final bites. The clothes are in the laundry waiting to be stripped of their perfume in the washer and dowsed in a new scent from our detergents. The presents will be packaged and given away. But the smell will fade. The soap I brought back will give me a whiff of one facet. The mate and coffee and beef we consume in this house will do the same. I guess I'll just have to head down there again for my next true fix.

Cue the withdrawal symptoms.

Things I Missed

2007-10-25T22:32:00.000-05:00

I'm home. I've had a hard time reintegrating at times, but these things have made it better:

1. Two-ply toilet paper. It's not necessary, but it sure is nice.

2. My beautiful pillow and mattress. There's no substitute.

3. My entire closet. Oh, how I missed thee. Everything old is new again. And also clean. I could go days and days without having to beg someone to wash my two pairs of jeans.

4. Tex-mex salsa, hummus, and Coke Zero Vanilla. Yuuuum.

5. My cell phone. I can actually call people now. And make plans and everything.

6. Paying with my credit card. When you run a (mostly) cash economy, you have to plan ahead. Me no likey.

7. Internet. All the time. Whenever I want it. And fast. 'Nuff said.

8. TV. I didn't watch any while I was there, and I didn't miss it at the time, but I now I rather like having my shows back.

9. My cats! They're soft, they let me put my ear to their bellies when they purr, and they ignore me until I play with them.

10. Hubster. He left me two weeks ago, and it was nice to not have to translate all day for him, but it's even nicer to be home with him.

Argentine Dispatch #2

2007-10-18T20:51:00.000-05:00

I can't believe it's been almost a month. I've already started making plans for Monday's exit, and it's tinged the rest of the week for me. I was afraid an entire month without work would turn into sheer boredom, but I barely notice that I'm not occupied. I guess the structure of the days here in the Interior with their observance of siestas and the meals at strange hours has helped make the time fly. My family and friends work in jobs with more varied hours as well, so I've spent much less time than I anticipated in "entertaining myself" as we like to put it. I'm happy to have spent so much more time in conversation but my journal is woefully out of date. I believe the entry I have to finish is from October 2nd - at the beginning of Buenos Aires, before Patagonia, before my return and all the important conversations I've been having. Am. screwed.

I've had irregular internet access through travel and then problems with modems here. I wanted to post more, but I'll try to journal events and I'll keep writing Argentine Dispatches when I get home. Hubster took the laptop home with him so I'd have one less valuable item to secure everywhere I went. It was a good idea, but I sure would like to type my thoughts more than write them. It's faster and the pencil-and-paper method makes my inner editor cringe and mutter curses after a while. All this to try to remember, to hold on to the memories and the stories and the mental images.

I'm sitting in my friends' study, the family with whom we'd stay when we weren't with our relatives here in the Interior. Their daughter is about to arrive. We were best friends when we were little, and our families renewed our acquaintance with trips even when we moved to Patagonia. I went to school with her on our 6-week visit in '97. She wrote notes to me in a notebook and conjugated verbs on its pages for me to memorize. One page is titled in bold pink marker: "The Four Most Important Verbs in Life." Below it appear the present tenses for amar, comer, dormir, and comprar. I guess if I can say I've loved, eaten, slept, and bought that about covers the basics even today. She visited my family in the States for three months. The youngest with three older brothers, she lived like my sister during that time, and we loved it after lifetimes spent with just our brothers. She danced swing with my friends, slept on my bunk beds, borrowed my uniform sweaters for school, and backed me up in arguments with my brothers. It was awesome.

She left and went back home. She started med school at university in Córdoba, met her boyfriend more recently and became an aunt as her older brothers started families. I went to college, met my husband, graduated, got married, moved and worked. I'm hoping somehow that our friendship has once again survived the deep freeze of distance and time.

We'll be sleeping in twin beds in the same room. Maybe that'll jog our memories.

Argentine Dispatch #1

2007-09-28T15:46:00.000-05:00

09/26/07 - On the flight from Dallas, Texas to Santiago, Chile.

She looks like so many of the grandmothers I met in Argentina - she´s got the same pallor, the hair dyed dirty-blond but imperfectly hiding its grey roots. She´s a bit round in the torso - too busy for too many years making and eating food with her family. She wears a blouse with a broach at the center of the neckline. It´s less schoolmarmy than it sounds but it is by no mean "hip." Her thick stockings and sensible shoes complete the picture. She comes around the corner of the ATM I´m hiding behind and asks if I speak Spanish (calling it "castellano" as they do in South America).

The flower of shame and fear blooms beneath my skin, as it always does at the question. I don´t blush; I just feal my chest tightening up a little, my brain clumsily revving up to prepare itself for the onslaught of strange words and continuous verb conjugation.

There aren´t many people around, so I say that yes, I do speak castellano, and I offer to help when she asks me if I know how to use the pay phones on the other side of the ATM machine. I don´t, of course, because like the rest of the USA it seems, I use my cell phone instead. I can read the instructions, such as they are, It might be enough.

She´s obviously flustered so she starts putting her bags down anywhere, and one of them falls over. I pick it up and (correctly) announce that I´m placing it near the phone. She says, "you speak castellano well." I´m embarrassed again - this time that I undersold myself and she might think that I didn´t want to help at all. Sometimes my inner life is so distruptive that I can´t believe I keep it up so obsessively.

She has no change so she gives me a dollar and we talk while I dig out quarters from my luggage. She´s calling her daughter who lives in LA. She´s on her way home to Chile from a visit with her. Where am I going? Córdoba, I announce and by now she´s caught my accented (if broken) Spanish, and she asks if I´m Argentine. I tell her about behing born there (the verb conjugation tripping me up again so that I must have said she was born there before I corrected myself and made it my birth under discussion). The quarters go into the phone. I dial as she rattles off the number, a bad idea I discover since I tend to confuse my 15's and 500's. We dial a couple more times and only once make a connection, but though it turns out to be wrong, we lose our dollar anyway.

I lose patience and pull out my cell phone. We make the call and she leaves her daughter a message, unsure that it'll work but happy to have made an attempt. I wonder how long ago I used a public phone. I´m glad I have my cell so I can help this woman who keeps sweetly asking my about my life. After we lament her daughter being out, she says she was so glad to meet me twice at least. She thanks me profusely. It takes the edge of my communication anxiety. Even if we had to resort to body language at this pount, we would have understood each other. Bebe (a nickname, her given name is Elisa, she tells me) gives me her address and says I´m welcome at her home, should I ever find myself in Chile. Maybe butchering the language every time I open my mouth isn´t such a crime. Kindness has fewer language barriers than I previously thought.

She bids my goodbye and I misunderstand something about the flight so I think that´s it for us. I end up sitting one row behind her and one seat to the right. I don´t notice until I come back from a bathroom visit in the middle of the night. She smiles and takes my hand as we greet each other, old friends now.

We interrupt your itinerary to bring you a delay caused by terrifying backwardness.

2007-09-25T20:09:00.000-05:00

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

We leave tomorrow on the same schedule which we were supposed to follow today. We were boarding when the word came down on this, despite the problem having occurred about 2 hours before that AND despite our four-hour layover in Dallas. Our backup flight was coming from Dallas so we didn't have a prayer of landing in time for our first international leg.

It's scary to think there are no redundant systems in place for this sort of problem. Apparently all this squawking about updating Air Traffic Control and bringing it out of the 70s is actually kind of accurate.

Good night, friends. And I hope this time I'm really leaving.

Go time!

2007-09-25T11:52:00.000-05:00

That blessed, terrifying, exciting, sweet-awesome, anxiety-inducing, long-awaited day is finally upon us. WE'RE GOING TO ARGENTINA.

I'm still unsure of the internet reliability factor. Apparently, a lot of the peeps we're staying with will have broadband, but only when their phones work. My grandparents (who live outside town a ways) have had half days of service for a while now. Uncool. I may post. I may not. I'm as capricious as a zephyr!

And with that little gem, you'll have to excuse me. I have some last-minute panicking to do. Ta-ta!

Random Picture Day

2007-09-19T19:29:00.000-05:00

I've got to leave to my friend's wedding tomorrow, so you get some random stuff today. Weeeee! Also, my kitties left to be with their "grandparents" (Hubster's family) while we do our weddings and international galavantings, so I'm a little low.

OH, kittens! I miss you already!

Blah Blah Trip Blah Blah

2007-09-17T22:15:00.000-05:00

I shouldn't have posted all those pictures at once. Not smooth. I mean, 79 images in one day? I could have gotten three solid days out of that. At least. Oh blessed content, I misappropriated you! Argh!

It's nearly go time for some important trips, so that's weighing on the old noodle. We leave for Cincinnati and K's wedding in three days and in a week, we'll be zipping up our bags, forgetting our toothbrushes, and praying our luggage arrives with us in South America, baby! WOOOO! Also, AAAAAH!

Today, for instance, I remembered to put in our request for the post office to hold our mail. I also bought German baking chocolate and marshmallows for my grandmother. Apparently, both are rather scarce in their area. I've also bought gifts for the people we know we're staying with, and general gifts for anyone else we're staying with but don't know that well. We also armed ourselves with those mini toilet paper rolls that fit in your purse - apparently their restrooms aren't replenished as often as they should be. To be honest, no matter how much planning I do, there's always a sense that I can't quite put my arms around this trip. I can't see it in my mind's eye, so how am I supposed to be prepared for every little thing?

I realized the other day that my working knowledge of Argentine fashion was seven years out of date. It was time to take action. I called my aunt, an Argentine citizen who married my American uncle and lives with him and their two children in Kansas. They each work for universities, helping with their language and exchange programs and teaching classes. They spent the first part of the year on a six-month sabbatical there. If anyone could get the skinny on what those crazy kids are wearing, it'd be her. I was glad to see that, while fads came and went like they do here, "chic and tight" were still the cornerstones of the moda nacional. In related news, I tried on and purchased some skinny jeans month ago when it was too hot to wear them. Boy, will they come in handy, no?

Aside from that, and trying to ascertain the weather for each of the regions we intend to visit (answer: 40-80ºF - packing's gonna be fuuuuun!), I've been enjoy having my husband back a bit more. Our respective busy times are past, and we can do things like egg each other on to exercise and later eat a bowl of ice cream so one of us doesn't feel bad. Ah, love.

Oregon Vacation Pic-tacular!

2007-09-16T21:36:00.000-05:00

So I finally uploaded my vacation pictures to flickr. You may now enjoy them below.

500th Post - La Dee Frickin' Da

2007-09-14T00:29:00.000-05:00

Since I last posted I have:

Turned 25, Hit the Quarter Century Mark, Officially Lived One-Third to One-Quarter of My Allotted Time on this Planet, whatever you want to call it. When asked my age, I'm now supposed to say "25."

Bought $800+ worth of domestic flights in Argentina. It was supposed to be cheaper, but no one in my family (least of all myself) can find my national ID papers which would have saved me about $200 on their national airline. That's $200 less shoes, belts, and assorted leather goods I can now reasonably purchase. Curses, foiled again. Also, major documents are missing. I should probably have mentioned that first because it's supposed to be important, but SHOES, people - LESS SHOES. OH, THE HUMANITY!

Endeavored, with a near-perfect rate of failure to acquire undergarments for the bridesmaid dress I'm wearing next weekend. I probably hit 20 stores, and as many online retailers trying to find a low-back, strapless bustier that wouldn't show up under the satin gown and would hold me in place so as not to flash the congregation. I have tried on dozens, googled as many, bought and later returned two items, and I already possessed two from other bridesmaid events. I'm not sure how I even had to buy another, but there it is - I've agonized and endured entirely too much in the search. If I had not randomly seen the store's marquee on a TV commercial for the new shopping center in which it can be found, I would never have had Bra-la-la to thank for finally, FINALLY solving my problem. It would have cost me $70, but the owner misquoted the price as lower, felt bad about it, and then gave me 15% off just because. Victory is sweet, let me tell you. I can finally stop making allusions to Hercules Labors and receiving blank stares from store clerks because apparently, not everyone took Latin in high school and memorized Greek mythology for several years' worth of exams. Nor did everyone take up dating a mythology junkie just as soon as I got rid of the classes in college. Hubster and I have named our cats after Greek and Norse mythological gods; IT'S NOT LIKE I CAN ESCAPE WHENEVER I WANT TO.

Seen Hubster's family's new home and painted one of their closets. Also, I went here and bought and ate lots of chocolate. Not all at once, mind you, but almost.

NOT posted. Not at all, not even a little. It's an achievement.

Noted that this post is the 500th post I've written. I think there are a few I haven't posted that contribute to the number, but not many. I'm big into milestones so I notice these things. And then blab about them.

Left you to fend for yourselves. I've got work to do. Ta-ta!

Just plain mean.

2007-08-29T22:27:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, we had lizard number three in our home. Apparently, we attract them or something. I rescued him from both cats who had staked out his hiding place underneath my camera case, so pictures were out of the question, plus it feels kinda old - how many times can you snap pictures of your cat with a lizard, right?

Some of you are asking how I can take more pictures of my cats PERIOD, but I'm going to pretend you're not. And then share more pictures. Am. cruel.

Highlights and Lowlights

2007-08-27T21:05:00.000-05:00

The mood at EAP HQ is dour tonight. My trip to Argentina was shaping up nicely, and then the other shoe dropped - our trip to the south of that great nation is gonna cost us mucho dinero. Uncool! I haven't seen the south (for my purposes that's just north-western Chubut province near Esquel) since I left at age 7, so it's REALLY important that we get there, but it's going to cost us a pretty penny to fly. We could save $400 or more if we were willing to take a 25-30hr bus ride on the way down. Tempting, right? Anyway, it's really put the kibosh on an cheerful disposition plans I had.

Although yesterday, the fine folks at Macy's made a little oopsie! and my friend and I scored $10 Michael Kors jeans like these. It's been keeping me going, let me just say. Apparently, the entire store was running a special of $10 off each pair of jeans, but the Michael Kors selections rang up at $10 instead of $89-99 less $10. Sweet. fancy. Moses. History was made, a couple of pairs each were purchased, we retired to our homes to savor our victories. And call our mothers.

Beyond my exploits in patriotic consumerism, I haven't been doing much. Oh, the friend I mentioned earlier (whom I shall henceforth call "Gringa") showed me a fantastic local Indian restaurant - House of India. I had their Paneer Masala (yuuuuummm) and they gave us a free appetizer. Quite good, and their white leather booths and chic decor doesn't hurt, either.

I would struggle on for a few more paragraphs, but I'm tired, so I'm going to hit the hay. And by "hay" I mean "TV." And by "hit" I mean "watch." Night!

Seriously, you've got to try this drink.

2007-08-23T21:05:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here with with a Russian Quaalude (equal parts vodka, Bailey's, and Frangelico, and before you ask, it's DELICIOUS). I've anesthetized, so I'm ready. Let's just rip the band aid off, shall we?

I haven't blogged in ages. My silence is reprehensible, and I'd like to stop hearing about it. Unfortunately, the only way to shut you people up is to do this thing. I'm not sure I remember how.

Where have I gone? Mostly around town, might have been a trip to Oregon that will surely yield fancy photographs. Then I bought some plane tickets for my friend's upcoming nuptials, bought a telephoto lens and some new filters (just got it, cats don't work as subjects, am pursuing other avenues), and started processing my current backlog of 500 photographs after knocking off the 300 from my brother's wedding. That's right, people, I'm positively drowning in RAW files, and it is ALL MY FAULT. Cry for the teched-out middle-class girl, just CRY.

Hmmm, what else, what else? Oh, I saw my brother in Oregon - Brother P from the Army. It was lovely to see him, kibitz, flop around in the Pacific Ocean together (it was cold), and plot our next visit for the holidays. Good times shall be had by all, now we just need to buy the tickets for it.

Speaking of, I have about a month to go before Argentina Fest 2007, Live From That Country Next to Chile. It should be good times, but right now, those times have very little planned about them. It's time to change all that. But I have to stop posting to do it. Hasta, amigos.

Pirates v. Ninjas, Anyone?

2007-08-02T08:04:00.000-05:00

Seriously hilarious. Go now. Enjoy. (Via: Pajiba)

Shocking, I know.

2007-08-01T23:07:00.001-05:00

I'm barely able to keep my eyelids open, but I thought I'd let you know I'm still around, not dead yet, all that. I'm in Indiana for business, but I'm managing to get plenty o' pleasure out of the experience. Obligatory visit to Bonge's, a massage and pedicure at the local day spa (Two services! I got to wear a robe because of it! Uber-exciting!), lunches out - all are being savored.

Unfortunately with that comes a penchant for that second glass of Sangiovese and sleeeeeep. I didn't bring my camera, figuring the current backlog of over 500 pictures is more than enough to keep me hopping without adding any. Instead, I shall savor my moments being lived without the aid of a viewfinder. And maybe drink some water. Phew this heat and toxin-releasing massage stuff sure makes a girl thristy.

You may hate me for complaining about that. I kinda hate me for it, if it makes you feel any better.

P.S. I might have uttered some absurdly drama-queen-esque statement about not knowing when I'd next see friends which is total crap but sure fit the post well last time. I do feel an inkling of that, but I might also have enjoyed a visit from my former suitemate (Shoutout, B!) within 24 hrs and then left for a visit to swampy Indiana, known to harbor many friends, within 48 hrs. I don't want y'all to worry or anything . . .

There's a perfectly lame explanation for the dearth of posts, I swear.

2007-07-28T23:28:00.000-05:00

All week I've been stressed. My work projects are in limbo and each hour that ticks by in which I don't move forward seems like an eternity I'll have to work off in Last Minute Purgatory. I can forget about it sometimes but big projects, like big life changes and big decisions are meant to be tackled head on and early, while I still have the energy. I may have awakened before 6am to get my hair done the day of my wedding, but I was walking down the aisle at 10 o'clock. Action saves me every time. But there is no action. Or there is partial action, and I get more pent up. Oh, and I bore Bee by complaining about it. I hate to bother her, but I hate to bore you with it too.

Then there's the small matter of Hubster being busy again, being gone when I want to sit and talk or not talk or just be in the same room with him. I rely on him so much, maybe too much, for the support and interaction and affection I crave everyday. I miss him. I miss being us all the time, with nothing on our slates, just a little guilt for being that fortunate.

I've also been busy with social engagements. Which sounds depressingly weird to announce.

Tuesday night was dinner in Annapolis with former Grovers. We ate sushi at Nano downtown. I enjoyed my Kama Kazi ("Spicy tuna, avocado, crunchy flake and eel with eel sauce on the outside" - YUM!) and the conversation. I felt a bit awkward since the rest of the group knew each other and hung out frequently, but even when we moved on to gelato and added a local boyfriend and the conversation touched on people and places I didn't know, it was nice to connect. It was nice to know they all went on, got lives, still thought I was worth dinner and a little Italian dessert.

Wednesday night was Chicken and Beer night with new friends from church. We had 25-cent wings and cheap drafts at a local wings place. I don't know the couple well, but I was there, eating and talking with their friends and coworkers. We ended up getting supplies at the grocery store and sharing root beer floats for dessert at our place. It was spur of the moment, but that made it more fun. I haven't done spur-of-the-moment like that in while. It's a step.

Later that night, I picked up my in-laws at the airport from their vacation. We had to skip family vacation this year, what with plans for trips, costs of trips, and Hubster's general off-the-hook busy-ness. I felt sad hearing the stories and knowing we weren't in them, weren't there to share the experiences that formed them. But as they talked with me for the next couple of days, I again appreciated having family. Hubster may not be there to referee every interaction, but that makes our relationship more genuine. We get to be family too.

Frankly, I'm just grateful I can have such friends and family. Each time life gets busy and my support structure seems shaky, I lament my lack of local friends.
"They're all an hour away! We're too busy to get across the distance."
"I don't have 'coffee friends,'I have 'clear your slate we'll do a weekend in eight months friends!'"
"Why did I not introduce myself to that person at church? It's my own fault I'm so lonely."
"My job is making me a hermit!"
"If I had a car, I'd have friends."
The excuses change, but the frustration and discouragement don't really budge.

And then I have a week like this. I haven't even mentioned the card I got from a dear friend who just shot to the top of my dearest list because she wrote such nice things to me. I got it after a wretched day, and I was just walking on a cloud afterward.

I haven't shown you the image I took today of my bed at Casa Pierce&Wife which contained a loofah, some chocolates, and a body wash for me to enjoy. Before I came, they said they'd pamper me, but I was content with their company. I never expected scented bath products and that bottle of great wine they splurged on to share.

Maybe my real problem is that it's feast or famine for me. I've feasted all week, and it's all so good, but I go from rich fare to bare tables. I wouldn't trade the delicacies for steady bread and water, but I sure would like a meal or two in between.

I haven't shared much with you all week because I've been trying to soak all I can. Sometimes I wonder where my next meal is going to come from.

The laundry, she's a pilin' up.

2007-07-23T20:15:00.000-05:00

I got home from Phoenix yesterday morning. I slept very little on the trip, and I ended up napping for six hours yesterday afternoon. It was good for me. Then I upped the ante and managed to sleep all night, too. Apparently I was tired.

I've been putzing around the house and cleaning things sporadically. I barely accomplish anything in between conventions, so it tends to pile up.

I took some pictures in Phoenix, ate some decent food, and introduced my coworker to Greek food - huzzah for corrupting the youth with Mediterranean delights!

Right now, though, I need to keep plugging away at my chores list. Pictures and stories to follow.

And She's Off! Again!

2007-07-18T19:38:00.000-05:00

I have a convention to work. Again.

I waited till too late to pack. Again.

I changed my hair. Again.

I didn't develop my digital pictures from the last trip. Again.

I neglected to post while doing little of value at home. Again.

I was too liberal with the exclamation points. Again!

I'll be back soon, and this is my last one! Huzzah!

Back NOT better than ever.

2007-07-16T22:06:00.000-05:00

I got back from LA on a red-eye Saturday night to Sunday morning. I slept for at least a couple hours, which I NEVER do, but then I got back and had a hard time sleeping. My in-laws were in town Sunday night and I saw them off for their vacation today. My body is in no particular time zone and I've got some serious pain in my back. LA was as fun as we could make under the circumstances (back pain!), and I've got oodles of pictures to share, but tonight, tonight I'd best get to bed. More tomorrow.

"It's like living in someone's mouth."

2007-07-10T13:00:00.000-05:00

That's how the store clerk described the current weather - like living in someone's mouth. When it's 94 degrees and the humidity is through the roof, IT'S UNBEARABLE. Today I had to run lots of errands, and getting in and out of the car, feeling the temperature rise five degrees a mere moment after I turned off the engine, GAH.

I HATE DC SUMMERS.

Phew. That feels a little better.

Interestingly, I'm headed out tomorrow to sunny LA for a convention, and the temperatures there are at least 10-15 degrees cooler. Considering how hot it's purported to be out there, I'm just grateful I'll be getting a break. Of course that break comes with less blogging, but I'll take the good camera and let you know how it goes. Hasta la vista, Maryland.

Self-Indulgent Snaps

2007-07-08T21:06:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I took some good personal pictures, so I tried to do it myself because Hubster was busy. And I look really ridiculous and alternately young and old. Awesome. I also took a picture of my home's temperature for posterity. And, you know, self-indulgence.

Remember when I used to caption things?

Oh, I managed to get some fantastic stuff at Sephora last time, including a good foundation match - finally one that isn't too dark. I also got a bronzer that isn't too orange and a lipcolor that reminds me of Scarlett Johansson's at several events/in several movies. Because I was feeling brave and they take returns. I can't find a better picture than her work for Louis Vuitton. I wonder when I can expect my free bag for plugging their product?

What? Too self-indulgent?

Am Loving . . .

2007-07-05T21:40:00.000-05:00

Eating watermelon with feta cheese. Sounds gross but is actually a delicious taste explosion in your mouth. Plus you've got your wonder fruit with your relatively-healthy cheese (I used reduced-fat feta which tastes delicious) so it's a great snack. Stop your looking askance and TRY IT.

Watching Doctor Who on TV Links (Hat tip to Jackscolon for helping me find that). That website isn't perfect as streaming video goes, but it'll do in a pinch and it's got tons of shows, including awesome British shows we rarely see over here.

Finding good deals on fabric at JoAnn. They may suck at selection and pricing on their fabrics usually, but good finds to be had in their Spring Fabric Sale. I found some awesome yellow eyelet for a skirt and some decent purse/makeup bag fabrics. I got everything for $3 per yard or less. Huzzah!

Eating homemade lasagna. It may be a pain in the butt to cook, but it's wonderful to eat. Also? Oodles of yummy (freezable) leftovers.

What are you loving?

Rain Out

2007-07-04T23:12:00.000-05:00

Happy Independence Day! I was supposed to spend it initiating some local friends to the actual DC festivities, but then the weather said something about scattered thunderstorms, some severe enough to cause "large hail." Um, how about not. Instead we ate our picnic dinner on their living room floor - baguette sandwiches with potato salad and (spiked) lemonade. Then we went out to a movie, got Ben & Jerry's kiddie cones for dessert and then I came home.

The movie we saw was their choice, License to Wed, and it wasn't good. I liked Mandy Moore during her guest stint on Scrubs, but her part, along with the plot, script, comedic bits, and even the soundtrack were formulaic and blah. I like a good chick flick and I will coo and cry with the best of them, but this? No. Don't get me started on the overdone jokes about marriage. Still, it wasn't impossible to watch and my friends were having fun, so it was fine. I'm just lamenting that the Ratatouille showing was inconvenient because I almost got them to see that. I swear I'm going to see that movie if I have to buy a ticket and GO ALONE, darn it!

The rest of the night was fun, though, and I'm glad I went. Hubster's out of town at the moment, so he couldn't complain about the movie choice. I might not otherwise have gone out with the chicas. The picnic and ice cream hit the spot. Happy Birthday, US of A. And many more.

Pooper Goes to the Vet

2007-07-02T21:03:00.000-05:00

Today I took Persephone to the vet. It did not go down well.

She meowed loudly and incessantly once I managed to drop her into the cat carrier - I had to tip it upward and put her into it because I couldn't push her in horizontally nor coax her in with treats. She continued meowing all the way to the vet's office. She sat in the waiting room where she would alternately meow in a sort of bellowing fashion and stare intently at everything, including the large cage containing a couple of kittens waiting to be adopted. She hissed at them occasionally, just to prove she was boss, and then began hissing at the room in general. With all the food on one wall and her inability to get a bite, maybe that's why.

Then began the exam where she protested having her temperature taken (although who can blame her since it was a rectal reading - fun!) and then she started wandering all over the room while we waited for the vet. She did nuzzle a wall-mounted machine that looked like it took blood pressure. She was none-too pleased at having her body examined, and the vaccines were RIGHT OUT OF THE QUESTION, YOU BASTARDS (insert hisses, growls, and violent evasion techniques). But we got out the door with a sound bill of health, except for her weight. She's a little overweight and we're going to put her on prescription weight-loss food for a while until we get her back in fighting shape.

At least she didn't poop in her carrier. Like last time.

And you thought we called her Pooper for laughs.

New and Improved Cat Picture Action!!

2007-07-01T22:06:00.000-05:00

In lieu of telling you all about my nice but boring-to-recount weekend, I present cat pictures. Fine, it's only more interesting because it's PICTURES, but I'm over it.

Airborne Contemplations

2007-06-27T20:42:00.000-05:00

"How do you feel about your little brother getting married?" I was asked that question several times, and the answers I gave while not untrue, per se, never really satisfied me. My opinions kept changing on me. I could never really put my finger on it, and I wasn't quite sure how "in control" I was of the emotional journey.

Spring had been so full after a quiet Winter. Sure, I fell asleep at least once a week writing/editting a toast for my brother, but I think that was more about my nerves than my feelings about his impending life change. Okay, some of that was in there, but not as much as there could have been. Why?

Part of it must have been his bride-to-be, Sister BrightEyes (as she shall henceforth be known here). He was marrying someone I didn't know terribly well, yet I though her delightful, beautiful, godly, and a good match, ultimately. My own thoughts about the timing never went beyond acknowledging that, while they were young, it was very hard to say whether the timing was good from the outside looking in on a relationship. I could only trust them - and that wasn't hard knowing the quality of their minds and hearts and having discussed it with them a little.

I'd come to terms with the many young marrieds that surround me - with the friends and family (and self, for goodness sake) I know who get hitched young. For so many of them it seems to have been a good decision. Life might later prove it was a tougher way to go, but so far it still seems to have yielded good fruit for so many. Why should I think that some of the most mature people I know would be any different?

All of this, however, only answered part of the question. How did I feel about Brother J getting married?

I felt pride in him as a person. He's delightful, responsible, mature, godly, and he's in love with Erin in a way he hasn't been in love with anyone or anything else. He's grown wise throughout his life and even wiser through this relationship. He's ready, as far as I can see.

I also felt joy for him and for Erin. They truly seemed to be happy and display a self-sacrificing delight in each other, too. I worried that struggle, pain, dull daily life, and plain old disillusionment and frustration will rob them of it. Still, Hubster and I have weathered that before and we're still standing together.

As the wedding day drew closer, I started to sense the simmer on the back burner was bubbling up a bit more. My thoughts for the toast progressed from trite platitudes to unoriginal-but-true reflections to a final resting place nearer to pithy and heartfelt, if not totally profound. God gave me inspiration to hold on to some of those ideas I'd already developed and drop others that weren't quite right.

The day dawned a shining testament to the Michigan summer climate, and thank God with the wedding and reception both outside. I saw my brother as I approached the site, and he looked unmistakably like a groom, less because of the tuxedo and more because of the purpose in his smile. He hugged me tight, and I prepared to stand and witness as he'd asked me to. I was surprised at how sisterly I already felt toward Sister BrightEyes. I listened as the pastors discussed and developed some of the ideas I'd rejected for my toast. They did quite well, and I was glad to hear the ideas properly explored.

Then it was upon me - the moment of truth. Soon I was talking, the words flowing out with the aid of my bullet-point notes (keywords in quotation marks - ever the student over here). My hands shook when I had to pick up my notes for the reading of the quotation I'd included, but my voice and my thoughts flowed from my firm purpose and God's unfailing strength granted for that moment.

I looked down as I talked, but Jon and Erin's faces only registered briefly - I had a job to get done and I wanted to do it well. This was no time to process. I could see it was pleasing them and I pressed on. When I finished (my arm shaking a bit as I raised my glass), I sat and turned to my pillar, my own husband for support and approval, in a sense - hoping that what I'd said was worthy of the moment. Only then did I hug the objects of my toast, my brother and new sister, and come down off the adrenaline a bit at a time.

It's taken until now, as I sit on a plane and contemplate those glimpses of their faces, can I truly see my own thoughts in context. That context is the look of love mingled with sadness and something unexpected that crossed Jon's face - admiration, aspiration, maybe just appreciation. And I cannot stop crying. The joy, the recognition of God's great gifts to me in the form of my family, my new sister, and my dear brother are too profound. My body cannot contain all that.

I catch the tears with the same tissues I took down the aisle hidden in my waistband for Erin and maybe for myself.

Strangely apropos.

Behind, but back in the game . . .

2007-06-27T00:13:00.000-05:00

The wedding was AWESOME! We had a fantastic few days there, and we took ENTIRELY TOO MANY PHOTOS. If I ever I felt like I wasn't getting enough quality time with my Camera Raw interface, it is NOT now. I did just get my CS3 upgrade in the mail, though, so I get to play with Camera Raw 4 with the new design suite. So far? LOVES IT.

Moving on, I have some pictures of the famed J Morgan Birthday Weekend, Quarter Century Edition below. Goody, goody for you.

Farewell, Cruel Maryland

2007-06-20T16:15:00.000-05:00

My brother's getting himself hitched this weekend, as I haven't ceased to mention recently. That blessed time in which I have to focus my complaint beams on something else is ALMOST upon us. It's not that I'm upset about him getting married, it's just that there's a lot of work to be done and a lot of obsessing to go along with that work.

Anyway, we leave shortly. I'm surprised at how some of the pieces have snapped into place, but others are still outside the frame, annoying my peripheral vision. Hopefully being within shouting distance of the bride, groom, parents of both, and some of my friends will assuage my anxiety about all the details. It brings back bad memories of my own stint as a wedding planner (that is, a bride-to-be).

It's been hot lately, and the forecast looks pretty good for home, so I won't miss being home too much. Okay, I won't miss the weather. I miss strange things while I'm gone. Sometimes it's yerba mate in the morning. Sometimes its my pillow. Often my cats. I'm sure I'll be fine, though, and it just makes me appreciate all those things when I return.

This drivel has gone on long enough. At this point I'm only typing to hear the sound of the keyboard. I'll be back next week.

Fresh Out of Pithy Titles

2007-06-18T08:23:00.000-05:00

The weekend hits keep coming! This time J Morgan, Mair, Charles and TheHair all showed at the casa for a fiesta. J Morgan had a birthday so what better way to celebrate that than with too much meat on a grill, Lemon Asparagus Risotto, and a chocolate cake from Whole Foods that killed any self-control I might otherwise have had?

None better, kids.

The posse arrived and we cooked and prepped to our hearts' contents. The meat was purchased at organic/halal establishments in Charlottesville, VA. Nothing but the finest meant we were all stuffed to the gills by the time we were through. Hubster manned the grill and the wine flowed and a fine time was had by all. It was delightful. Wish I could do that every weekend. Okay, not the cleanup, but IT WAS WORTH IT.

The next morning, we got up lazily. I made the obligatory cinnamon rolls (tradition!) and then we headed over to Daedalus Books. J Morgan and Mair had to go to a wedding in the afternoon, but we shopped for quite some time. I bought several books which I will read then forget to blog about like the stack of books currently on my desk. You're welcome.

Hubster had two wisdom teeth removed last Tuesday and he pushed himself a bit hard after taking only a day off, so he started feeling ill and Charles and TheHair decided to leave earlier so he could take it easy. It was sweet, but naturally a little disappointing. "Not wanting it to end" and all that.

He got back on his feet by Sunday morning. After church we did a little shopping to prepare for this weekend's festivities. And then the family calls started. We spent large chunks of the rest of the day on the phone with family which never really happens with us. Of course it was Father's Day so we talked to the dads. Then my family has a ton of stuff to plan in conjunction with this weekend's aforementioned festivities, so of course we had to discuss the wedding gift and who/what/where/how much. We managed to decide on something, but then I had to go and volunteer to make something to go with it. (Sorry about the ambiguity, but it hasn't been given yet, so mum's the word. Okay, "vague's the word.") I managed to make it yesterday night in one fell swoop despite my relative lack of experience with certain aspects of its construction. Also, my sewing machine totally needed to be oiled and I'm fresh out of that. I hope I haven't ruined it by my laziness.

Anyway, then my mother had a line on a cheap and awesome laptop and my brother had a line on the skydiving the groomsman and groom are going to be doing this week for the bachelor party (I KNOW!) and then . . . oh, we had to plan Hubster's family's visits - and yeah, that's plural - in the next few weeks. AAIIIIII!

Needless to say I got to bed too late last night, but I did get a lot accomplished but, as I may have mentioned before, IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT.

Cheapness is the Mother of Nerdiness

2007-06-13T22:28:00.000-05:00

We've been trying not run the air conditioning as much as possible all spring. It's been hard not to cave and switch it on sometimes, but I've gotten good at remembering to open the windows at night, close them during the day, and keep a look-out for the weather to see if I can skip that step for once. We're both so lazy about that kind of thing, but we'd like to think we're a little more in tune with nature, but the truth of the matter is that there's not much truth to that. Like most suburbanites, our days are spent on suburban concerns and paying attention to what the weather does is way down on our priority list - unless it involves snow or rain. Sometimes even when it involves rain we can tend to get caught unawares and unconcerned. What's a little wet hair once in a while compared to constantly keeping posted to prevent it? Hair dries.

It's been refreshing to pay attention a little more, actually. I say "actually" because I fully expected to hate it. One more thing on the to-do list, one less minute of time for work or play or sitting around. I didn't expect to like it when I noticed an evening breeze. I didn't expect to like knowing which side of the house has the sun during which part of the day so as to keep air flowing without adding a hot breeze. The day is coolest during the morning, or after a cloud front has moved in mid-day and taken out our previously high heat index. Birds are loud until the garbage man comes at 8. Then they briefly shut up to note the extremely large and incredibly loud object encroaching on their perches before striking up the chirp once more as the beeps travel further down the street, become less menacing, and finally disappear to bother another set of birds somewhere else.

All that to say that today was the most rewarding yet during Nature Ain't Half-Bad Fest 07. The house was stifling because I forgot to close a sunny upstairs window earlier. I brought a big fan downstairs and pointed it straight at my gyrating form during my workout. I still had to keep a water bottle nearby lest my mouth become so dry and my skin so sweaty that I fall and slide across the floor and down the stairs, unable to cry for help. I went upstairs and showered only to find myself still sweating a bit. By the time I got downstairs again, the sky was dark and I could see the boughs of our backyard trees swaying in the wind. Rainstorm - SCORE!

I opened the back door, admiring the fact that our newly-installed screen (thanks, Hubster!) meant this could now be a big-ole source of fresh air for just such an emergency. I stood by the door, watching the wind swell like a wave and hit the trees, the sound so like the ocean, the sight strangely reminiscent. Finally the lightening and thunder arrived, but only after the wind had died down. I kept the screen open as I cooked nearby, the sound sometimes so loud it felt like a kick to the sternum. The rain seemed like an afterthought of the storm so it never sullied my carpet and made me close myself off, a suburbanite again.

Nietzsche Would Not Be Pleased

2007-06-11T21:30:00.000-05:00

I might have been watching too many episodes of Heroes on NBC's streaming video portal, but I need to have a superhuman ability, and I know just the thing. I would like to be able not only to think of an entire post (which I can already do) but to be able to post it magically on my blog. Instant content, no need for a computer, an internet connection, or the time it takes to type it. What we they call me then? The Über Blogger? Yeeees. Yes, I like that.

Too bad you're stuck with the Underwhelming Blogger.

I went to Richmond this past weekend for the last of my three-in-a-row. The convention went fine, and AquaWoman and I did great work. Kicked butt, took names, drank a LOT of Diet Coke in between explaining, once again, "what all those CDs are." Not that this means anything to do you, but if I had a dollar for every time someone uttered that phrase, I wouldn't work have to work anymore. And then I could devote myself to developing my powers. That's why I don't blog - I haven't tempered my gift yet. Yeeees.

Anyhow, we ate at the Penny Lane Pub whilst there. Their Portobello Mushroom, Roasted Red Pepper, and Spinach quiche will knock your blooming socks off, and everything is Beatles/British themed. Smashing. (Maybe I should stop blogging before your heads all explode from the relentless cheese of it all. No?)

I'm sure I could write more, actually, but my brain is fried from all the logistics I'm trying to run on it. I've got a posse coming over this weekend for a party, half a week at home, then I'm off to my brother's wedding (with a bachelorette party and a toast to execute), and then I'm back before Hubster starts working like mad and we barely connect for a while. Oh, and there's the church website I promised to work on, pictures to retouch/order for family, a house to clean, and a little thing called NO TIME LEFT FOR ME.

Enough spazzing out and whining. I'm out. Maybe I'll post some pictures Hubster took this week. They star Tiny and a lizard. Again. It's not über, but it'll do.

Sweet mercy, I'm tired.

2007-06-04T23:11:00.000-05:00

Okay, so Hubster had a wedding last weekend and I had a convention to attend. We were less than two hours apart in New Jersey, but I had to work most of the time. The convention was meh, though sales were low. I did, however, meet two fabulous people in the next booth. They watched my cashbox whenever I had to pee, which is a handy thing during the 7-8 hour shifts I endured alone. If memory serves, wetting your pants is definitely on the Bad Customer Service list.

The best part of the convention was eating at the Akbar Restaurant in Edison, NJ. I tried it out the first night and enjoyed myself so much that I returned the next night. Great service, delicious food, and nice atmosphere. I tried two dishes in a brown sauce whose names totally escape me. Murg Lababdar, maybe? I think that was chicken. Kashmiri Rogan or something for the lamb dish. I've had so much on my mind and no itemized receipts. Anyway, the food was out of this world. Also, they had a mint and cilantro sauce with the lamb. I shall no longer enjoy Greek mint sauce because this sauce? Kicks its minty BEEP. So, if you're visiting Northern New Jersey - eat at Akbar! If you're local, my jealousy burns against you.

Keith said the beach wedding turned out great. It was cool enough for all the lads in tuxedos (they went barefoot, which I kinda love) and the reception afterward was lots of fun. I got done with work and headed over for the after-reception party which lasted into the night. I crapped out at 10:30 from exhaustion, but I managed to stay awake for the snarking of most of Quicksilver, a Kevin Bacon movie that was just WAY TOO MUCH FUN TO SNARK. Rent it next time you need to vent some cattiness. The dancing scene with the prissy ballerina girlfriend and Kevin Bacon DANCING ON A BICYCLE does NOT disappoint.

So we got back Sunday and acted like zombies for the rest of the day. I got a little house stuff done, but not much. Today was work, work, then dinner at El Patio with friends, and now I'm up late talking to you. It's wall-to-wall around here. I'm gonna go find a corner and lie down.

Cheating with Reheated Content

2007-05-31T08:30:00.000-05:00

I just found this dandy new doohickey that allows you to make a slideshow of your flickr photos on your blog. And it's pretty. We'll see if this works.

I'm leaving today. Again. I'm off to New Jersey for a convention all by my little lonesome. I also might make a stop-off to see my husband who's a groomsman this weekend in a wedding in . . . New Jersey. It's a weird coincidence that might have been fantastic if the wedding weren't during the day on Saturday instead of at night like I'd hoped. Anyway, I might go hang with him after I get done for the day. We'll see.

Right now I'm killing time until everyone gets off the road for me. And then I'm leaving.

Conference + Holiday = No Posting

2007-05-29T22:05:00.000-05:00

So our convention in Florida went well. Sales were up, companionship was great, food was good to FANTASTIC, and . . . (drum roll please) I GOT TO GO TO DISNEY WORLD!

This was my first trip to Florida, and it took me a grand total of 24 hrs to end up in Disney World. I credit on Bee, partner in crime, and our other convention rep, whom I shall call AquaWoman, who once worked at Disney's Living Seas exhibit (now Nemo themed, of course) in Epcot (look out, that page has audio - annoying!). She got us two free tickets, so all we had to do was buy one and split the difference for an entire day. Sweet fancy Moses.

We walked around the countries, we went Soarin' (highly recommended, by the by), we ate lunch in Morocco (Restaurant Marrakesh, by name), and we tried all kinds of Coca Cola Products from around the world. Plus the weather was perfect - warm and breezy. I'm sure the results might have been different if I'd had to sweat my way through the day, but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Yes, I did bring my big camera, despite some question about doing that as I packed, and all the snaps are on flickr. The entire park was in bloom for the Spring, and I got a ton of fabulous flower snaps. I can't even identify them all. Not that I'm a botany buff or anything.

Speaking of buff (love that segue), I am a known food buff, and Bee and I got some seriously good food at Wolfgang Puck's restaurant at Downtown Disney. I had Pan-roasted Mahi-Mahi with fingerling potatoes and a delicious peach drink called a Bellini something-or-other. I also enjoyed the Banana Beignets, a smashing dessert that hit the spot. Seriously insane food. Not so great prices, but well worth the experience. The service was fantastic - our waitress, and especially the hostess were wonderful. The hostess convinced us not to skimp and go through their cafe dining (cheaper, lighter menu) and instead to hold out for dining room seating. Later on in the meal, she checked in on us to see how we were getting on. She certainly made us feel welcome, flip-flops and all.

We hadn't planned on hitting that restaurant up, but then we didn't plan much of our extracurriculars this time around. We never even hit up the four outdoor pools we could see from our hotel window. That might be a crime, especially when this is where we were staying. Best laid plans, and all that. Next year, I'm going to make sure we plan ahead and do some more Disney, I think. And maybe a little sittin' by the pool.

Me Voy

2007-05-23T07:15:00.000-05:00

Later today, I'll be touching down in La Florida, so I've gotta run. Yes, a convention. Yes with her. Good stories and pictures shall probably ensue. Probably.

A Feast for the Palette, Then a Feast for the Mind

2007-05-21T22:43:00.000-05:00

We had such a good weekend, that I shudder to think how many things would be left out of any run-on sentence purporting to summarize its greatness. Even that one.

Zoofari is described here, but basically, over 100 restaurants and wine purveyors set up booths and give out free food and drinks for a few hours in the National Zoo. It's delicious. 1789 gave out lamb chops in the most delicious sauce I've ever tasted in my entire life. L'Oustalet gave out samples of beef roasted in the best gravy ever - I distinctly tasted orange in the gravy and was floored. Pinzimini gave out olives, pasta with gruyere and asparagus, and tiramisu. That's pretty much all my buttons right there. Anyway, well worth attending, might even be worth paying to attend in the future when we can't get free tickets because mmmmmmm. Also, I might have gotten TWO samples of Chateau Ste Michelle's amazing wines. My taste buds were very happy with their Dry Riesling.

J Morgan and Mair gave us the use of their car all week whilst they were on vacation and then stayed overnight Friday when they returned. We had such a good time. We grilled out on Saturday, made a side-trip to IKEA, and stretched more than one joke riff to the breaking point before diving into another line of reasoning. They had to leave Saturday, but we've already got our next visit planned, so it was easier to wave goodbye.

Now it's Monday night. I had a great conversation with Hubster about my career/school aspirations and a lot more. We'll see where it leads, but it was nice to wrap up some loose threads of thinking. All the eating, the smiling, and now thinking sure take a lot out of you, though. I need some beauty rest, kids. Good night.

Randomized Midweek Photographic Goodness

2007-05-20T21:15:00.001-05:00

Persephone, in a rare sojourn beyond the walls of our luxurious home. Totally not into being photographed with all these SMELLS around.

The scene - Tuesday night, Non-Virtual Fyfdom, grilling out, hanging out on our decrepit (now fixed) back stairs, life is good.

Kebabs on the grill. Cue salivation.

Confined kitty, yearning to be free.

I have no idea why, but I think I really like this picture.

Two of kind. Okay, in no respect are we two of a kind, but it sounded nice for a second there.

Parting shot. Because she is so deliciously cute, my tiny-tiger/cheetah-belly.

Photo Credits to Hubster.

Linking Wednesday

2007-05-16T22:14:00.000-05:00

1. We start out strong today with these musical words: beer power.

2. Honeybee populations across the country are declining because of a mysterious killer, and it might affect our food considering that 1/3 of our crops are pollinated byinsects, mostly honeybees. Someone help before we can't find avocados, asparagus, or cherries for love nor money!

3. Slate's Human Guinea Pig, Emily Yoffe takes one for the team to find out "What happened when I followed The Secret's advice for two months." A satisfyingly sarcastic take on following a stupid book's advice.

4. Back to food. This article purports to tell you which food to eat for your mood. Maybe it helps, maybe it doesn't. It's certainly interesting.

5. Inside the Bridal Industrial Complex. That's basically what author Rebecca Mead did to write her new book, and the NYTimes talks about the book and the experience of walking through the Great Bridal Expo with her. This article is behind the registration screen at this point, but her book is called One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding.

6. And the last one I found through dooce. Pictures, with captions, of Disapproving Rabbits. It's pretty awesome. My fav so far: "Hazel practices her disapprove-fu, allowing her to disapprove in any direction at any time."

What a Wonderful World

2007-05-15T23:15:00.000-05:00

It's been a long few days since I last posted. Full days, too. From a relatively light Spring, we're careening into a heavy Summer of weddings, weekend visits, and conferences. Last weekend had Gold Cup, this weekend had all that and more!

So Hubster's dad got us tickets to the America's Cup of Polo. We had VIP tickets for the Cartier tent, very nice what with the free food and drinks all day and the fabulous views of the field. This year was the inaugural year so everything was new and exciting and less than perfectly organized, but it was a fun time.

It all got started with a cocktail party Friday night. Sister-in-law Slydig (henceforth to be her handle because she's a funny person with a penchant for the sarcastic) and I went through balmy Hades on the slow Washington Metro to get out there for it. Then we got a tour of the grounds for the game, lovely Morven Park, as well as the location of the cocktail party near a former Virginia governor's mansion. We ended up with all of 30 minutes to freshen up for the party and I am proud to say that we did it and looked HOTT at the end to boot. We are machines. Pretty, pretty machines.

Moving on, Market Salamander did the catering for the entire weekend. There was not a amphibian in evidence, despite their bizarre name, but there was plenty of food, most of which was inventive and just plain delicious. They had mini ciabatta breads for their slow-roasted leg-of-veal with amazing dressings. Their pork, mango, and basil-leaf hor d'oeuvres were amazing. Oh, and they had this poached pear tidbit wrapped in filo that made me fall in love with food all over again. We haven't even talked desserts. Very good stuff here. The drink of the event was a Polo-rita - a margarita with pomegranate and orange juices and Casa Noble tequila. Also quite good.

The cocktail party was fun, especially the part where Mumsie (mother-in-law) and Slydig and I sat around feeling awkward and fashion-policing to take the edge off. They're more fun than a barrel of monkeys.

Man, I am FOLKSING IT UP around here. I am so obviously not one of the elite of this nation that I should have been BANNED from such a stately event. But I wasn't. Ha!

So we hit the hay once Hubster arrived (having driven down after work) and got up to a day whose weather could not make up its mind. It's sunny. Now it's overcast. Now it's sunny again. Now it's sprinkling. Now it's raining. Now it's clearing. Now it's sunset. Good night. Fortunately, the good and bad patches coincided with our schedule so we were able to watch the polo match in the overcast, dry sections and then retreat to the tents for the annoying drippy parts. It could have been better, from a planner's perspective, but it could also have been considerably worse given a weather report that had 40% chance of thunderstorms listed only the day before.

And what to say of the day? The US polo team was made up of mostly amateurs and the UK team was mostly professionals, so the final defeat of the USA was not all that surprising. The match was exciting throughout, however, except in the last chukker when the UK really brought on the hurt by widening their early two-point lead. I've blocked out the final score, but it was probably like 7 to 3 in their favor. Ouch. Still, next year's match should be with Italy and we'll see if there's enough interest state-side to garner an entire professional squad or not. Perhaps the best part of the game was one of the announcers, Cowboy SomethingorOther, who's been doing this since the 70s and was flat-out hilarious when he wasn't inappropriate and mildly offensive. When the US scored a goal, he bellowed "Well slap my pappy and call me happy!" When he was fitting in an advertisement for an inner-city outreach group, he was so inappropriate it was laughable. One phrase stuck out, though "so donate some money of and help them out to keep those kids off the streets of your neighborhood with guns." Words fail me.

But the match was the easiest part of the day. We had Hubster's entire family together so we wanted to talk and hang with all of them. Charles and The Hair came along and brought two friends as well, so that made more interesting brains to pick. Plus we invited a couple of Maryland friends as well. It was a full house. Good thing the champagne flowed all day, along with more Polo-ritas, Yuengling, New Castle Ale, and lots more good stuff. Did I mention it was Cartier branded champagne? Fortunately, it didn't taste like their jewelry which I would guess would be lacking in tasty effervescence and lean closer to cold metallic flavor with notes of polishing agent.

The day wrapped up with a concert by the reconstituted band of Journey, still rocking hard with their new members and ready to put on a pretty good show. We watched from the tents for a while, but closer to the end, we headed out on the field, Hubster having opened one last bottle of New Castle each on an abandoned caterer's table, and we rocked out to "Don't Stop Believing" and generally had a fabulous time. It was late, dark, and everyone was feeling tired, but we still had a blast.

And that's more than enough for this post. More, perhaps with pictures, tomorrow.

What is this "no" of which you speak?

2007-05-10T23:57:00.000-05:00

It's hot. Okay, not "hot" but balmy. I just spent the last couple of hours upstairs working on a Mother's Day gift, and the cool basement feels great. Ah, room-temp goodness.

I did that thing again - biting off more than I could chew. I said, "I'll make both gifts with oodles of time to spare!" And now it's down to the wire, and though I found something lovely for my mother at IKEA, my mother-in-law is the only one with the homemade gift this time around. Even worse, my sewing machine is acting up. The feed dogs (called the "transporter" or something on this Wikipedia page, but every sewer I know calls them that) were acting very strangely, and there's a little wobble on the straight lines of sewing. ANNOYING. Meh, I'll get it serviced and life will go on, and you can bet I'll be volunteering to sew purses for most of the greater-DC population in no time.

I should have the phrase, "DON'T BE A HERO" emblazoned on my forearms or something. I could get it tattooed in a lovely design with an artistic touch, but it would have to be visible to me. Maybe on my hands. Although I hear hands are a pretty painful spot for that. Oh, I'm sorry, you wanted a point to this. It's not that I'm allergic to the word "no," I just have a sensitivity to it. And I really need to stop volunteering. Hubster asks me what to get for our mothers, and I should ask him for ideas instead of immediately marking off my time for the selection of the project, the selection of the material, the cutting out phase, the sewing phase, the ripping out bad seams phase, followed by more sewing and culminating in the hand-sewing phase. ENOUGH.

Okay, "enough" doesn't seem to hurt as much as "no." Maybe I should try that out.

Bets on how long that lasts?

Weekend Wonders

2007-05-08T22:37:00.000-05:00

Last weekend was full. Friday night, Hubster and I took our coffee date to the mall where we could wander and double-check our prices. We managed to find some mark-downs on products we'd bought earlier, so we actually did that whole "price adjustment" thing retailers always hype because no one does it, ourselves included. We saved like 20 bucks on our bill, so I'm keeping both jackets, in case you're wondering. We decided to rent a movie, but then I needed to hem some new pants for Hubster and one thing led to another so we thought "no movie, we'll be up to late" and therefore stayed up just as late doing other things. Oh, we are that good.

We got up the next morning and ran final errands (it was surprisingly hard to find fully cooked, honey-glazed, spiral-cut hams nearby) and we got all dolled up for Gold Cup. We did this last October, and I even took pictures, but apparently, I forgot to post them or even go beyond a mention of the event. Way to drop the ball!

In a nut shell, it's a steeplechase with lots of fanfare and people wear preppy clothes (and hats) and bring delicious food and wine and hang about watching the occasional horse race. We had a fantastic time last year. We brought food, wine, champagne cocktails, and delicious desserts. This time, Mr. T and Southwest again asked us to come, but they added both sets of their parents to the roster. It was a bit awkward at first, but we quickly warmed up to each other and enjoyed an hour or so of eating and talking. Enter the rain, stage left. Pretty soon we realized the rain would not relent. We'd brought blankets and umbrellas, but it wasn't long before we were almost soaked and considering our options. One set of parents was staying at a hotel, so we hit up the lobby for coffee and cookies and relaxed there. It wasn't the day we'd envisioned, but it was worth it, if nothing else than for Southwest's amazing concoction made from champagne, pomegranate juice and fresh raspberries. Must repeat that one.

We bid everyong adieu in time to catch dinner with CharlesPeirce and his wife, whom I've only ever called "his wife" on this blog and shall henceforth call "TheHair" because of the hair. The last time we'd gotten together was entirely too long ago (again!), so rather than being stumped by our busy Friday and Sunday, we heaped on a visit to our Saturday. They made us pot roast with vegetables and mashed potatoes and had blackberries and delicious wine (George Duboeuf Merlot) and mmmmmm, it was yummy. We talked into the night and managed to plan a few more get togethers. We went from once every six months to four times in the next couple of months. We are people of extremes.

Sunday? Church, then lunch, then a movie, then bed. We watched Stranger than Fiction, and I loved it. The previews make it look like more of a comedy than a drama, and it's just the opposite, but it did tell the story with a lot of humor and insight. The music, the acting (Emma Thompson gets me every time), the cinematography, the plotting, everything. The ending wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped, but it was still beautiful. Life, death, romance, guitars, space camp, and a seductive baker. Good times.

And good night!

A Moment for Elephants

2007-05-07T22:02:00.000-05:00

Okay, let's face our pachyderm head on: I, LIKE, NEVER BLOG ANYMORE! In the past I've had a good reason for any hiatus - I'm traveling for business, I'm on vacation, I'm sick, etc. This past week I've had nothing particularly time-consuming on my slate, but it's been near impossible to make myself post. And yes, this is mostly about fun and games so if it's no longer serving that purpose, maybe it's alright that I don't post. There's just one tiny problem with that: I don't get to catch up with y'all if I'm not posting. No one comes to visit or makes a comment. I was talking about this with CharlesPeirce and his wife and we agreed: it's easier to use facebook because a few bits of your content and your relationships provide the reason to return to the site. You drop one sentence on your friend's wall and you read others' comments and you're done! With blogging, if you don't come up with content, that's it - no comments, no reason to the visit the site, no reason to come back till there's new content and if there isn't any for while, you're likelier to forget all about it.

I'm not sure how I'm going to handle this. I mean, 5 days a week of even crappy content takes time. It takes motivation. Some days, when I'm done with work I don't want to go downstairs and back to my computer at all. If there was a way to do it from my bedroom, maybe, but we haven't got a laptop, and frankly, how lame is it that I use THE STAIRS as an excuse? Less lame if you understand that the stairs symbolize all the trouble it takes - sitting in the cold basement, looking up Amazon links, writing and editting, etc.

It's still lame.

Maybe I'll decide to post less often. Maybe I'll find a method of preparing posts that's faster. I don't think I'm going to let this thing decay, but I do think I need a change. We'll see.

Hmm, this is already a post in and of itself, so I'm going to call it quits while I'm ahead. I'll tell you about my weekend later. Good night. Hopefully, I'll see you soon.

Listing Tuesdays

2007-05-01T23:46:00.000-05:00

Because I joined facebook today, and it's already sucking up ALL MY TIME. CURSE IT.

Ahem:

1. This is a list of the best cookbooks of 2006. I was so sick of cooking the same things over and over. Stir-fry, chicken wraps, grilled chicken, ravioli, shuffle, shuffle, repeat. Breaking out of my cooking rut meant getting inspiration. Try out some of these picks from Epicurious.com.

2. McSweeney's does it again with: "Considered but discarded names for the Indie Band Someone Still Loves you, Boris Yeltsin." Short but sweet. Kudos to Hubster for spotting this gem.

3. I'm not sure I agree with all of the authors conclusions, but this piece from the New York Times (it's past the free window, so you might need to register, sorry!) got me thinking. It's not that I agree with Michael Pollan. Full disclosure, I haven't even read the Omnivore's Dilemma yet, but it's enlightening to learn a little about the laws that wind up determining our food options on supermarket shelves. Growing up in early life in Argentina, I didn't eat a lot of processed food and such because their food supply looks considerably different than ours (especially if you compare the 1980s there and 2000s here and now). When we moved to the States, I didn't really make a point to remember how strange food seemed. I let my mother worry about that. Full disclosure, I was probably obsessing about the last time my brothers broke into my room and hoarded my stuff for ransom. Anyway, it's an interesting piece illuminating a non-glamorous, but increasingly popular issue: how our legal infrastructure informs our health choices.

4. This one's already made some rounds, but in case you missed it, Joshua Bell plays a classical violin set in the Washington Metro system. Interesting results.

Reading Myself

2007-04-29T22:00:00.000-05:00

"A photograph is not created by a photographer. What he does is just to open a little window and capture it. The world writes itself on his film. And the act of the photographer is closer to reading than it is to writing. He is the reader of the world." -Ferdinando Scianna, from Slate.

I was trying to capture the look of a couple of outfits today. I tried on the dress I'm intending to wear and I got both jackets together so I could take pictures of them each open and closed. Why just use a mirror when you can make it complicated, right?

Well, these pictures look as confused as I felt. I misplaced the focus and they definitely won't work for what I wanted. I was trying to read the world in the sense that Scianna described, but I failed. I had a good problem - choose between two lovely jackets to make a nice outfit. I also had a good weekend, enjoying dinner out with Gerkin and Hubster at Les Halles. Friday night, Hubster and I, too enjoyed a great evening with just the two of us and our unnaturally hyper cats. I did have a few darker moments, though. It seems as though I can feel a little too tied to practical matters of late - I'm bothered by how often I avoid deeper moments with K or just alone with myself. I'm stressing out, and I want to slow down but seem unable to focus on anything but the next task.

In some ways, these pictures capture that. I'm out of focus and the project I'm actually trying to do (decide which jacket to keep) is hopeless because the focal point of my camera is a foot in front me. My photographic ineptitude making my point for me. If only all these were solved so easily.

Petroglyph National Monument

2007-04-26T22:20:00.000-05:00

We quite enjoyed our foray into this park, but then again we're nerds. If you find yourself equally nerdy and curious, I've included some Wikipedia links for more information. Okay, okay PICTURES!

According to the placards arrayed throughout the site, it was considered a holy place where Native Americans (and later Spanish settlers) would go on faith quests, basically. The art pictured here is less representational than ritual. Sometimes we have no idea what they mean because no cultural artifact bears the same symbol. However, many symbols recur throughout the area, like the one pictured above.

This petroglyph was not dug as deep into the rock, but you should be able to distinguish a man with a mask over his left eye.

Such fluid lines on this little man. Love it.

We also learned that the cross was as symbol in the local Native American cultures long before the Roman Catholic Spaniards showed up. You can tell each culture's cross by whether it has an outline or not. This is a Native American cross; the Spanish would not have outlined it.

Another man, hanging out. I should really reprocess this picture, though, because it definitely doesn't match the tonality and color depth of the desert varnish well at all. Oopsies!

KITTIES! ON ROCKS! Although these were likelier to be jaguars than domesticated cats. Apparently, their range extended to Albuquerque, back in the day.

And you gotta love the modern graffiti. Was is worth it, Amanda '86?

For a pretty good primer on petroglyphs (stone carvings) see this Wikipedia article. Apparently, the reason you can get and retain these carvings is because of something known as "desert varnish," a darkened exterior which certain types of rock get in hot arid climates. This article seems to indicate that it's because of the rocks make-up as well as the interaction with the environment over time. When you scratch off the outer layer of varnish, it doesn't fill in again so your carving remains intact for centuries.

I highly recommend a visit. Maybe next week, I'll show you some images of the area itself and you'll notice as we did that it's not as easy/safe as most national parks. For one thing, you have to climb among all these rocks without many handholds and few stairs with handholds. I wore some adorable platform espadrilles which were TOTAL CRAP on those steep (and often tight) inclined spaces, but I didn't fall down and avoided going boom. I just wouldn't recommend flipflops.

Albuquerque Snaps

2007-04-25T22:52:00.000-05:00

Ah, the ubiquitous New Mexico chili peppers - this time chipotle. When we went out to dinner at El Pinto, the fragrance from the peppers bedecking their porch was amazing.

Desert Broom or Broom Dahlia. Whatever, it's PRETTY!

Oh, mysterious flower, what is your name? It was all over Petroglyph.

Here's the side view of the above plant. Those crazy modern-design-esque pods are flower buds.

This is how you pay for parking in Old Town. You stare at this board puzzling over just why the slots for each spot are so small. You look at the hourly rate and determine you need to insert three dollar bills. You roll them up tightly. You decide to finish pushing them into the slots with your car key. You wonder if the person who designed this was a genius or an idiot. You further decide that, although it made you laugh just then, making t-shirts that read "I parked in Old Town" would be too obscure.

All that fuss over parking was worth it. After all, here's a lovely picture of the San Felipe de Neri Church.

You count the days until you have to leave this delightful place.

Why read when you can hear about the movies I've seen?

2007-04-24T21:38:00.000-05:00

I just went out to a movie with my husband, so I guess it's time to talk about recent movies I've seen and whether they are any good. In order now, from the crappy to the fabulous, I present my experiences with movies.

Music and Lyrics: Have you seen the trailer? Well, it tells you everything there is to know about this romantic comedy which was disappointingly formulaic. Drew Barrymore can be quite charming, but she is constantly doing these roles and I just want to airlift her out of this movie and into something good. I mean, the first few minutes of the movie feature a faux-80s band video which is PURE GENIUS. The end credits were also awesome. The middle? Not so much. It had its moments, a few quotable lines, and that's about it. No offense to those that liked it; I just felt like I'd rather be watching something better.

Talladega Nights: I was fully prepared to "not get" this movie and decide I didn't like it. I mean, lots of my friends loved Anchorman and I didn't enjoy more than a few lines of it. Really, Will Ferrell is not a sure bet for me, but this movie was pretty darn hilarious. Yes, I waited till it hit DVD, but it was worth the rental for the laughs and good lines like this one: "I wake up in the morning I piss excellence." Indeed you did, at least for this one, Ferrell.

Children of Men: Futuristic movies are always tough. The production designers either go Aeon Flux and make it crazy weird-looking or . . . well, they usually go nuts. This movie was amazing partially because though it was set 20 years in the future, and the world was going to Hades in a handbasket, it still looked and felt real. It was beautiful, sometimes so moving I cried, mostly it was an interesting foray into out culture and what ends it might reach. Also, it was beautifully filmed - long shots are so complicated and they had several. Kudos to them, and kudos to those of you who decide to watch it. Well worth a rental.

Shaun of the Dead: Sweet fancy Moses! I've never seen a zombie movie before, and I'm sure I would have been on the floor laughing had I seen them, but frankly, I know all the leitmotifs because they're such a part of pop culture. This movie is an entry in the genre, a funny homage, a delight. Loves it!

Hot Fuzz: The movie which Hubster and I just saw, created by the people behind Shaun, and it was fabulous! Growing up with brothers and tons of male friends, I've seen my fair share of action movies. Again, it's an action movie which ratchets the cheese factor. If this trailer strikes your fancy, you just might be Hot Fuzz material.

Late Book Report Fined 10% Per Day

2007-04-23T23:24:00.000-05:00

Today, I'll be reviewing books which were all good to one degree or another. Some were more interesting than excellent, but I still think they're worth a read if the titles/themes catch your eye.

Pattern Recognition, William Gibson: From Amazon, "The first of William Gibson's usually futuristic novels to be set in the present, Pattern Recognition is a masterful snapshot of modern consumer culture and hipster esoterica." That's about all you should read, though, because otherwise you'll spoil the book. I had my issues with some of it, but overall, it was an interesting look at culture, and I thought the bits about internet culture were incisive.

Lady Oracle, Margaret Atwood: Oh, another Atwood. I'm like a groupie! Well, this wasn't my favorite of hers, so I guess the honeymoon's over with her. See, her beautiful language was still there, and she even retained some of her amazing insight, but the plot and some characters just didn't do it for me. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't Atwood good. Single tear.

The Autograph Man, Zadie Smith: I finally finished the book. Very good. I didn't enjoy it as much as On Beauty, but it was still miles ahead of other novels. I've included quotes from it before here and here.

Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez: One of my new favorite books because, WOW! The style reminded me a bit of Dostoevsky with its rambling narrative and insights about even the most minor of characters, but Márquez was didn't seem to wander quite as long as the D might. There were so many good lines that I really can't copy them all out. Really a must read. I think I could start a few dozen posts with inspiration from them. Hey, that's not a half-bad idea. Better idea? READ THIS BOOK.

Bel Canto, Ann Patchett: Another of my new favorite books. The language is truly fantastic. She creates a rather implausible world, yet you want so badly to believe it exists, that it is, in fact, our world that she keeps you at the edge of your seat, even when she's discussing how the terrorits and hostages will make dinner out of raw vegetables. Opera, terrorism, language barriers, and French Ambassadors cooking - it really has it all. READ THIS BOOK, TOO.

I'm reading another great book, but that's quite enough pontificating and Amazon searching. If you're headed beachward (or airportward) then snap one of these babies up.

New Mexican Carpet Report

2007-04-22T22:30:00.000-05:00

So, the conference went well. Got to hang out with Jefe and we did some fun stuff like eat here, here and here - (try the margaritas at El Pinto, the Shrimp and Cheese Fondue at Landry's, and ice-cream filled sopapillas at the Church Street Cafe, respectively). Also, we tried a delicious local wine, a Sangiovese from Black Mesa Winery (site under construction, meanwhile, try this) at the Church Street Cafe in Old Town Albuquerque. Delicious, especially with all the great salsas we were consuming. We also visited Petroglyph National Monument where I took entirely too many pictures. I still have to process them, but I should be posting them soon.

But enough about that, you want the State of the Carpet address, and let me just say, for a megachurch that's already a few years old, their carpet looks pretty fresh. Is it worth avoiding the water damage from all those crazy homeschoolers? Not a chance. But still, kudos on the well-preserved digs; just try not to dehydrate an entire people group over it, mmmkay?

More tomorrow. I've finished a bunch of books that I've said nothing about yet, and I'm also backlogged on movies, as well as the promised petroglyph images and I should soon finish my dress so hopefully I should have lots to say this week.

Until Then,
I Remain,
Your Most Autocratic Blog Monarch,

Señora Cranky Pantalones

Le Crank Le y

2007-04-18T23:14:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow, I have an early flight out to New Mexico. I've never been, and that's exciting, but I'm waking up at 4am, and THAT, my friends, is why I'm so cranky about being awake at 11pm. It's not because I'm preternaturally old or anything. Although I DO clip coupons. Whatever, the reason I'm up is because I got THIS close to the final stage of the dress I'm working on, and then I proceeded to make mistakes all over the place and get all nice and cozy with my seam ripper. By the time I'd fixed the problems I caused by my carelessness, I didn't have time to assemble the shirt, hem it, and sew it to the (complicated, but finally completed) bodice. I comfort myself that if I were staying up to finish the whole shebang, we'd be well into all-nighter territory and I AM too old for that. Single tear.

Did I mention this was the convention which allows absolutely NO beverages or snacks of any kind throughout the day? They noted that you could have bottled water IF YOU PROVIDE A MEDICAL EXCEPTION NOTICE. Their carpet must be made of the downy feathers of extinct geese, lovingly fabricated by the hands of the poorest peoples of the Himalayas, and festooned with 24K gold paint by their art prodigies, in short, this carpet better freakin' WALK FOR ME if I can't carry a Nalgene into the building. And we say TSA restrictions are tough!

Anyway, blah blah I'm be gone for the rest of the week, blah blah I'll take pictures, blah blah I'll miss you too. Nighty-night!

Selected Readings in Pop Culture

2007-04-16T22:59:00.000-05:00

Today, I'll be taking selected readings from Dove Dark Chocolate wrappers.

"Remember your first everything."
Can anyone see what's wrong with this sentiment? It might be important to remember the first time you left the country for exotic climes or even the first time you had sex, but the first time you took a step? Kinda not possible. And the first time you noticed your mother had colored her hair? That has GOT to be crowding out a pin number.

"Wink at someone driving past today."
Sue Dove for damages when the crash is ruled to be your fault.

"Age is nothing but a number."
Not so much an imperative as a cliche. Also, age is associated with privileges and restrictions, so you know, YOU'RE TOTALLY WRONG, DOVE.

"Send a love letter this week."
Bite me.

"Sometimes one smile means more than a dozen roses."
Yes, but sometimes that means he's a miser whom you should drop like a bad habit. Think about it.

"Write a real letter, not just an email."
What's the deal with hating on email? Seriously, people, I can avoid writing an email just as steadfastly as writing a letter. Okay, you stressed out over whether the USPS had upped rates since Christmas when you bought 80 Santa stamps, which you are now ashamed to use. Is it a little warm in here, or is it just the caring?

"Flirting is mandatory."
Somehow, I think a man wrote this - a man who's bad at flirting. So sad.

And my personal favorite:
"Watch reruns, they replay your memories."
Um, WHAT?!? Either this is a failed metaphor or they think we live in front of the TV, and with the epidemic levels of obesity I keep hearing about, maybe dessert purveyors shouldn't be recommending a sedentary lifestyle.

Lesson for the Day: Don't read the wrappers; just eat the chocolate. Class Dismissed.

Distractosaurus Rex

2007-04-15T20:50:00.001-05:00

Cannot. Concentrate.

Really, I've tried to come up with something to write, but it's hard. I went shopping at G Street and found FABULOUS fabrics for cheap because they were having a sale - like I needed another reason to set up a cot and refuse to leave.

I'm going to make another Duro dress, but unlike the last one, it should be wearable like OUT THE HOUSE. Body: black with white polka dots, Contrast: bright yellow flowers with dramatic black details. Oh, man, what am I doing typing? I need to cut this thing out and get started already! I might also have a TON of gifty makeup bags to make for various and sundry folks whom I love and totally owe.

Even the Tiny wants to help out on this one. (I'm making the far right pictured dress, sans arm bands because there wasn't enough of the flower print (I got the last yard!) and it's a bit stiff for a fluid sleeve like that.

Yes, folks, the pendelum of Erica's attention has swung back to sewing, so I must follow its dictates. I am but a minion of my flighty, flighty brains.

Number two in the queue? Probably. (Sorry about the blurry picture. And the dots are chocolate brown while the pink is a bit less bright. Yeah, so ignore the picture altogether.)

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a 32-year-old Singer.

StuckInARut City, Population: Erica

2007-04-12T21:59:00.000-05:00

I want to share what's going on, but it's complicated, and some of it is too private for this kind of forum, and frankly, I don't have the words, no matter how many phrases I string into my run-on sentences. I've been in a funk for most of the day, and it's tiring. The deeper you get into it, the more of a rut it becomes, slowly dismantling your resistance to it, conditioning to ignore potential exits in favor of following the negative track you've carved out. It's been a long week, but it's my own fault. I got back from a great experience where my creativity was stimulated. I got back to my (okay, "at times") dull and uncreative life, and I'm frustrated.

It's a conundrum for a learning junkie like myself: expanding my knowledge doesn't actually change my life. I crave remaking myself once I've discovered new things. I feel as though my mind has changed so much so my life must have been totally transformed, but my life is much the same as I left it. Yes, fine, I have the chance to remake it myself with effort and experience. Ah, but the progress is never fast enough, and most of the time I get mired in decisions about how to go about it. I flounder. I get side-tracked. I procrastinate. I get in a funk.

And we're full circle. Circumstances always strike you as harder and more irrevocable in these moods. The old self-help thing about "acting not REacting to life" has some truth to it - if I'm constantly looking at my problems as mountains rained down on me from the heavens then beyond having some serious misgivings about the climate, I'll never get out of the house and clear them away. I can handle most of the things I face daily. So much of what I face is the loneliness of being at home, sans human companions for two-thirds of the day. BUT I KNOW HOW TO DEAL NOW. Anytime I feel overwhelmed, I've stopped acting - calling a co-worker, writing an email, chatting briefly with friends on breaks - and I started reacting by accepting the loneliness as a fact of my day and doing nothing to combat it.

Blah blah same old words blah

So what have I done in an effort to combat the rut by now: finally decided on wall decor for the living room and purchased frames for the scheme, experimented with pasta for dinner, made sure to drink my water for the day, and excised my demons on the Interweb. I guess that's not half bad. What do you do to escape the doldrums?

Picture Post: Sweet Victory Edition

2007-04-11T23:13:00.000-05:00

Welcome to Camden Yards. As my friend Gerkin put it: "It's vaguely Dickensian. 'Please sir, I want some more.'" Yes, he did go for the Twist reference. Indeedy.

O-power is how you lose to the D-town. (Was that trash-talking? I think I might have just run my mouth a little. Am. So. Devious.)

The highlight of the game for Southwest and I was watching three bats shatter. Of course I failed to capture the moments as they happened.

Okay, this stadium scene exits for one thing: look at the speedometer clocking the pitcher. Pretty. It read 100 most of the time, but, again with the laziness, I missed it.

The fast pitcher in question: Joel Zumaya. Beautiful arm, that one.

Aw, the Bonsai boys! Watch them scurry. It's only Zen from a distance.

Pretty form. In case you were wondering, we went to the second game of the season, not actually Opening Day. Apparently the grass painters thought that was too much work to cover up for accuracy.

Fin. Though I may not love me some baseball, I love me some hanging out, and it was worth freezing to watch the Tigers bring it. Thanks to Gerkin for the idea, Southwest for the conversation and commisseration, and Mr. T and Hubster for the non-stop one-liners and snackies. Advance thanks to my pillow, y'all, I am OUT.

Cop-out Post of the Week

2007-04-10T23:21:00.000-05:00

I just spent my entire evening outside, freezing my butt off at Camden Yards. The Tigers BEAT the Orioles, YAY, but the cold beat me down. I got some interesting snaps. I'll process them tomorrow. With my kit lens, I didn't have the telephoto capabilities the situation required, but we'll see what some RAW, Photoshop, and elbow grease can yield. Until then, enjoy some snaps from the cherry trees currently lining my street. Nighty-night!

Fun with the Lab color boost. This picture wasn't really appropriate for the trick, but it sure was fun! Those colors make me think of one of my junkfood weaknesses - mmmm, cotton candy.

Detail is so much easier to capture when your subject is not a restless cat.

Why, oh why must they bloom for so little of the year?

Underexposed, but still pretty.

One more for the road.

Ill-advised proposals are a known side-effect of Photoshop euphoria.

2007-04-08T20:31:00.000-05:00

So much time has passed, friends, and I have blogged so little about it. Photoshop World was awesome as advertised. I now have the skinny on non-destructive photo editing, the Lab color boost trick, and some sharpening methods that truly kick derriere. I cannot pledge that all my photos will henceforth be uncompromisingly flawless, but that might be because I want a life outside of my computer software. Although, I do have a huge crush on CS3 now, and if I can get a copy home with me once the product ships, I just might be the happiest woman on the planet. Quick selection tool: MARRY ME.

Moving to less terrifying subjects, I enjoyed Boston. We stayed at the Westin Copley Place (Heavenly Bed: MARRY ME) and had the convention at the Hynes Convention Center. In between lies the Prudential Center and its connecting skywalks, so though we never allotted enough to time for from one to the other and always arrived at our destinations with a patina of sweat and a certain degree of fluster, we did NOT have to savor the cold, wintry-mixed weather of Massachusetts. Thank the Maker. It should also be noted that though there was a Shoe Debacle (the shoes I packed sucked, #$%^@#*), I did not purchase anything with my own money despite walking through two, COUNT EM TWO malls from hotel to convention three times a day. There might have been a Charles David with their adorable Spring line avilable, too (Peep-toe flats with ankle strap adorably called "Pele:" MARRY ME). I practically pulled something to restrain myself. Anyway, we did actually leave our climate-controlled cocoon on Thursday night for a little Boston pubbing. It was lovely. It's loveliness was directly related to how little time we spent outside.

And then I returned home, having had my performance review and getting a raise (sweeeet!) to a street full-to-brimming with cherry blossoms. Again, life is good.

Also, I watched the following video, and I laughed pretty hard. It might be because though I wish Fergie no harm, I really hate her songs, and I wish she weren't famous. Okay, she might construe that as wishing her harm, so instead I'll say that I wish she could be famous while also being obscure to me. Since I've been doling out the marriage proposals like candy, a la Maeby Fünke, I think I have to say it, Alanis: MARRY ME.

Vista Bonita

2007-04-03T22:05:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting in the my hotel room, checking my email inefficiently. To my left there's eighty square feet of window with a view of Boston that you cannot believe. I can see the Charles River, Cambridge, and a whole lotta pretty lights. Earlier today, we saw fifteen sailboats out on maneuvers, and there were crew teams out, the spray off their oars barely visible. Life is good.

I got quite a lot out of my Illustrator class, but it was still four hours long. Tomorrow's a full day, so I'm going to hit the hay. I slept like a colicky baby last night. Early start the next day, big day full of travel, a trans-continental rendezvous, four-hours of class, etc - it all added up to the ole Toss 'N Turn for six hours. I need me some sleeps. Good night!

I'm off to see the wizards.

2007-04-02T20:08:00.000-05:00

So, I'm off to Photoshop World this week. Tomorrow morning my flight leaves early and I've got a four-hour seminar called "Illustrator for Photoshop Users." Despite how grueling that sounds, it's gonna be sweet!

Right now, however, blogging will have to wait because I've got to pack, tie up loose ends, and moon over my kitties. Yeah, yeah and my husband.

I will have access to computers, but I don't know how much time I'll have for y'all. Here's hoping I can share some of the joy!

Ignore the Date Stamp; This Ain't No Prank.

2007-04-01T16:47:00.000-05:00

Knowing what a crazy idealist I am, you might be able to guess the mixture of feelings the following fact engenders:

"Hubster and I have purchased tickets for a trip to Argentina for Fall 2007."

Let's wade into my stream of consciousness, shall we?

Yay we're finally going but crap we're finally going I mean it could be fantastic but what if our luggage gets lost and what if we get stuck in Chubut and what if we get robbed in Buenos Aires but won't it be fantastic for Hubster to finally meet my family but maybe he'll be nervous and they think he's a silent, serial-killer type and then they kick us out of their house where would we stay but maybe that would force is to interact even more with the culture and then we could experience the country as natives rather than uptight American suburbanites oh man we're freakin' GOING.

AHEM. Sorry. I let my crazy hang out there for a second. The closer I've gotten to this trip the more I realize just how many expectations I've heaped on this bad boy. I look at it as a touristy thing for certain parts (hello, BA!), but it's also a journey back in time since I hope to recover memories of places and people that are off the beaten path. I'll be reconnecting not only with family but friends with whom I don't really keep up. I'll see Chubut for the first time in 18 years. I'm going to see my cousin as a preteen whom I remember only as a four-year-old. My young life will be rocked by this trip, and I know I can't begin to understand how it'll change me. That is, if it doesn't all feel too normal. I'm actually afraid of this turning into just another trip. I want some revelation. I want the earth to a shake a bit. Why?

I couldn't tell ya. But I will tell you a little story to illustrate what I mean. I used to have this dream when I was young. I'm looking at a building and it's beautiful, built like a square mansion with Bavarian lines. I know I've been there before, and I think it's in Argentina, but it looks so out of place with their typical Spanish/Italian/French architecture. I keep staring because of its location - halfway down a dock that stretches from the shore into a vast body of water. Whenever I thought about it in waking life, I couldn't believe it was real. I had a sense that I'd been there before, but feelings are foolers, right? I decided it one of those crazy mashups that your brain makes when your consciousness isn't minding the store. If it were real, I figured it was in Bariloche because of the architectural style and the nearby lake. But then, at age 17, turning a corner on a bus ride from Buenos Aires to Córdoba, I saw my dream passing by my window.

I had tried to explain my dream to my parents once, but it didn't ring any bells until I hissed excitedly at my mother and asked her if I'd ever been there, right there, can't you see that building? Yes, she said. We'd shared a special dinner with family there (it's got a restaurant) and my grandparents kept asking me where the boats were so I would say "wada" over and over with my little-girl diction. It was real, substantial, a part of my life. Of the millions of memories I'd lost in the blur of my brain's longterm storage, I finally had one back. You can't buy that kind of elation (at least legally - heh).

It seems so trivial when I read over it. I guess when you've moved around so much, you really celebrate those little triumphs over impermanence. I've put a memory with an image in mind - I know that I once had dinner at the Club de Pescadores in Buenos Aires. Hardly the stuff of major life shake-ups, but I still feel more grounded knowing than not. I just hope I haven't hyped this so much that reality disappoints. I've got six months to realize it's happening and prepare for it. That's long enough to develop a more even keel, right?

Linking Thursday

2007-03-29T22:16:00.000-05:00

It's time for me to suggest some ways to waste time based on the ways I've been wasting time online. Huzzah!

1. No list would be complete without McSweeney's so let's get that out of the way. As usual, I'm all up in that pizzle, if I may employ the phrase. Teddy Wayne's "My Interactive Call Center" includes the following sweet phrases: "Please hold while I passive-aggressively stall. Your expected wait time is: until after my show is over." Awesomeness. Okay, just one more. Because I can picture this being truly hilarious to attempt, Renee Prince's "Six Steps to Total Relaxation in the Workplace" gets the nod as well. I won't spoil it by hinting.

2. Hubster found a humorous article about Bono being knighted. Good for Bono!

3. Slate's always good for a random article. This one's about sleep and what purpose it serves for the human body. I may learned all about REM sleep for my fifth-grade science fair project, but it was nice to brush up.

4. I can't believe I haven't link to this next blog before. I've been reading slacktivist's Left Behind posts for over a year now. He's reading through the book (yes, that one) and picking it apart, posting weekly on Fridays. He does an amazing job of pointing out its problems from every angle: characterization, plot holes of every stripe, and of course, the theological issues that can arise from holding a Dispensationalist perspective. Despite how uninteresting that sounds, he really does a great job of keeping things fresh, alluding to pop culture, politics, history, scifi, and news. If you're intrigued, or if (like me) you have a pesky friend who keeps trying to get you to read these books and you want to have some ammo, check it out. (Note: the page is an archive that starts at the bottom with most recent posts on the top.)

Now FLEE. WASTE TIME. GOOOOOO.

"Babbling" is I think what you'd call it.

2007-03-28T21:09:00.000-05:00

After this evening's Lenten program at church, and my friend ExPatria (we'll call her that because she's not originally from these parts) and I ducked out to enjoy some coffee and a good chat. We had such a good time! Apparently, she too has a 70's-era sewing machine with which she does battle to alter clothing and, recently, make a new duvet and sham set for her bedroom. We chatted over sewing adventures, her sister's impending baby shower which she's trying to plan and the many, many weddings I'm attending this year. It was so good to catch up that time flew. Also, the slice of Tres Leches Cake that I bought flew off my plate. Sweet fancy Moses! Stay tuned for a future cooking experiment with that recipe because yummmmmm. Heads up, Hubster and other loved ones: remind me to make this for a party so I won't be able to eat the entire thing by myself. Thank you.

Onward into miscellany! I decided to switch out the site template, as you can see. I like it, but it's so "90's Laura Ashley dress" and therefore so unlike me that I'm still getting used to it. I usually avoid the pastels. Pastel blue is The Enemy in my clothing shopping because it's freakin' everywhere, and I own like one shirt in that color and I'm sated. Still, I love those flowers and the Squidfingers background image, so why not try something new?

In the interests of full disclosure, this is my second attempt to write this post after my cat wandered in the narrow space between my file cabinet and the wall where all my computer's power strips reside. Yeah, Pooper cut the power on me, and now I'm too tired to come up with a nice, round three-item post. Amuse yourselves in the comments - at my expense, if you like. I'm gonna get me a Martini and bid you adieu.

Cat-grass-a-palooza

2007-03-27T20:28:00.000-05:00

Last Wednesday night, Dad-in-law came down for dinner, carrying a cat grass plant in tow. Mum-in-law purchased it for me after hearing me whine and complain about its unavailability last November. The kitties considered it the best thing since kibble. I took copious snaps. A good time was had by all.

The Tiny approaches cautiously. She immediately chows down.

The Little notices the commotion, decides to investigate. "Investigate" means pull an Alpha-Cat and kick her sister off the tasty nibbles.

Best. Face. Ever.

Although this one with the tongue sticking out? Awesome.

She looks inebriated. Calm down, sweetie, it's not cat nip!

And now the faceplant - weeeee!

Farewell, Cat Grass. This shall serve as your funeral pic because you've already been devoured by our very happy felines.

Erica as Inigo Montoya, Film at 11.

2007-03-26T22:48:00.000-05:00

Sooooo . . . last week sucked. My employers got me a back-up hard drive at one point, and I loaded and (foolishly) used the software that came with it. It turned out to be the perfect software for people who want large amounts of their image files overwritten to look like that one file they scanned and then didn't need at all. As an added bonus, it corrupted random batches of my Photoshop files - you know, the layered ones with hours of work that went into them and great usefulness for the future? Yeah, I didn't want those. This disaster happened last August but I found more defunct files LAST WEEK. I believe the term blue streak might apply to my reaction. Not one of my more noble moments. As I struggled to recreate files I'd already struggled to create once, my vocabulary darkened to midnight blue and I cut off contact with civilization, preferring instead to cry into my cats' fur and beg my husband to get take-out.

On a related note, I've decided to become a less-dedicated version of Inigo Montoya - I'll seek revenge, but only if any of the creaters/purveyors of that software should ever cross my path. I'm going to stop short of spending my entire life hunting them down because THEY'RE NOT WORTH IT. (Right? Right. Maybe.)

There were other things going on, but they're boring and you don't care about them. Trust.

Anyway, I'm back.

A few days late . . .

2007-03-21T16:16:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry I didn't write this post on Sunday night, but I've decided to take the week off from blogging. I've got work stuff and church stuff stressing me out, so I'm afraid making sure I post has become a burden and not a delight this week. I'll try to be back next week. Later, kids!

Again with the church-related rhapsodizing!

2007-03-14T21:50:00.000-05:00

I'm still working on a serious post, but this is one, too. It seems as though I return from my church's Lenten programs every Wednesday and I'm on fire. I haven't been like this since . . . honestly, I can't remember. High school, I suppose.

I used up any eloquence I might have in the car, thinking about all this, processing my emotional response. It's hard to find the words to reflect the change in my life and faith over the past two years. After college, I was really hurting. I had been depressed. I hadn't found a good church at college and had spent chunks of my senior year unable even to bring myself to go to any church at all. I felt not only unconnected from the people but unconnected from the Body of Christ - from its ministry and its leadership. I watched people like myself who'd grown up in the faith experience the same disenchantment. As my own faith was expanding and God was changing my heart, the churches around me seemed to be shrinking their welcome, their communion, their friendship, and most of all the reach of their God - church was for the holy, and I knew well enough that I may look holy, but I was still very much a work in progress. Who was I to dare to worship with them?

I remember church hopping once we arrived in Maryland. We even thought we'd stay one place, and did for a few months, but I kept wondering what else was out there, who else might have a communion like the one I'd grown up with - doors and hearts open, teaching from the heart as well as the mind, fellowship with my brothers and sisters. I went to church with J. Morgan and Mair and experienced their parish and knew that, though it wasn't close enough to be my church, the one we'd halfheartedly settled on wasn't either. It's hard to look for a house, and it's hard to look for a church home - you don't know anyone, you don't know the surroundings or the culture of that specific community, you keep wondering what you can sacrifice and what's indispensable, and it's hardest of all to keep getting close and missing the mark. God (and my good friends) encouraged me to try again, and Hubster and I headed out the next Sunday and found our home that day.

We started coming faithfully in the summer, and I quickly joined the choir, and I guess I didn't talk about it much in 2005, but the floodgates were opened last year during Lent, and suddenly I saw that spring had come again to my faith. I had my doubts that anything had lasted through all the frustration, loneliness, and stagnation of the last few years and suddenly, I was alive and growing in all directions.

I guess I'd been growing all along. The spring metaphor looks good on paper, but I have to keep reminding myself that tough times don't make us hibernate as often as they make us grow, awkwardly and uncomfortably perhaps, but they're as much a part of the growth as those happy days of warmth and peace. I gotta say, though, it's nice that it's spring again.

Disappointment

2007-03-13T22:24:00.000-05:00

I'm working on a serious post, but I don't have it in me tonight. I'm tired, and I'd really like to hang out with my husband right now. More tomorrow or soon. Good night and enjoy the flowers I got you:

300 Blood Drops Per Minute

2007-03-12T21:40:00.000-05:00

My parents left me. They returned home to chilly Michigan leaving us to enjoy our 60º sunny day and an evening showing of 300. We did more talking and eating before they left, but you don't want to hear about that, do you? Nooooo, you want to read a movie review? Oh. You don't?

Tough.

So, first off, every frame was stylized to the hilt. Much hay has been made of the film's look - the blown-out highlights and exaggerated shadows, the burnished gold color cast, the desaturated color with rich textures of iron shields and rough robes - oh, and leather speedos. The film is beautiful, and I spent much of it trying to analyze how they created such gorgeous look. The story is an OLD story, done once again, not much deviation from form, but done rather well, I thought. The music and probably many of the stylistic elements on the Persians were anachronistic, but they worked with the stylization, and really, that's what you paid for. In fact, for its mix of electric guitars and plainsong solos, the soundtrack flowed well and added the bombast needed to make the look work.

The gore? Gory. They break up the battle sequences by focusing on the home front's political problems, so that helps, but it is not for the faint of stomach and most certainly not for anyone who thought they might be overplaying the gore factor in the previews. It's very balletic violence at times, but it is no less violent. I'm sure the CG people spent more time rendering blood droplets than just about anything else.

Honestly, I don't know what to think of the graphic novel's creator, Frank Miller. I didn't see Sin City (anther of his graphic novels adapted to film), but Hubster said the look of the film was incredible, and that he enjoyed it. If you don't mind gore, you liked the aesthetic you saw in the previews, and you've got $10 burning a hole in your pocket, hie thee to the cinema and see it. Otherwise, stay home and read Homer or something.

"The 411," As The Cool Kids Say.

2007-03-11T21:02:00.000-05:00

My parents are in town, so I've been busy with them - showing them around town, but mostly talking, and eating. As my father put it "We're one of the those families who can sit discussing our next meal while absolutely stuffed from the last one." Mom and I went shopping at G Street Fabrics and found the fabric for her dress for my brother's wedding this June. We've hit up the National Gallery of Art for some 19th Century French as well as 17th Century Dutch Art - Rembrandt self-portrait REPRESENT! Ahem. We wanted to see the American Impressionists, but the American Art section was closed for renovations. Just FYI, there.

Of course I woke up last Wednesday morning with a sore throat. I was hoping it was a fluke from sleeping with my mouth open or something innocuous like that but no, by Thursday morning it was full-blown sore-throat-itis. After getting freakin' PNEUMONIA this winter, I'm kinda on high-alert when it comes to cold symptoms. Fortunately, though it felt even worse yesterday morning, I'm getting better now. At least it didn't ruin my visit with my parents - I can still taste and talk!

Quotation Wednesday

2007-03-07T21:51:00.000-05:00

I'm reading a couple of good books right now, but I've been hanging on to these quotes from Zadie Smith's The Autograph Man, and posting them now means I can read more. Yay for reading more!

On Wrestling Matches: "And of course it's ridiculous, but the thing is, they are not here to express genuine feelings, or to fake them and dress them up natural like on TV; they are here to demonstrate actions. And all of the kids know that. Any fool can tell a story - can't they? - but how many can demonstrate one, e.g., This is what a story is, mate, when it's stripped of all its sentiment. This afternoon, these two hulking men are here to demonstrate Justice. The kind Mr. Gerry Brown (Block M, Seat 117) can't get from the courts in compensation for his son's accident; the kind Jake (Block T, Seat 59) won't get from school whether he chooses to squeal on those bastards or not; the kind Finn (Block B, Seat 10) can't seem to get from girls no matter what changes he makes to his wardrobe or record collection or personal hygeine; the kind Li-Jin (Block K, Seat 75) can't get from God." (p.33)

"Alex believed in that God Chip in the brain, something created to process and trigger wonderment. It allows you to see beauty, to uncover beauty in the world. But it's not so well designed. It's a chip that has its problems. Sometimes it confuses a small man with a bad mustache and a uniform for an image of the infinite; sometimes an almond-eyed girl on a big screen for the stained-glass windows in a church." (p.101)

"The last of the suburbs were still passing by, hunkered down for the winter and still as Sunday. Alex felt a particular yearning for the suburbs between an airport and a city; he wanted to stop the car and knock on one of those pine doors, and squeeze in between the fireman and his wife until someone rose to make breakfast and the kids started to yell. But you need a specific address for the suburbs. Only in the city can you be dropped off in front of statues and behind opera houses. The suburbs are by invitation only." (p.191)

"FACT. Women have an endless capacity for anecdote. Men prefer jokes and stories. Alex didn't mind any of the above, as long as he was doing the telling, but Kitty and Esther had set off, before he arrived, on their open-topped bus, on their nostalgia tour. They rolled round the deserted soundstages of old studio lots, the penthouses of closed hotels. They did not pause and there was no opportunity for Alex to get on board. His exit from the room, after a pronounced sulk, went unnoticed." (p287)

Spy Jeans, Secret Ingredients

2007-03-06T21:52:00.000-05:00

1. I finished reading Colin MacKinnon's Morning Spy, Evening Spy. I bought it along with John LeCarre's Mission Song because the hardcover editions of each were on sale right before Christmas and I wanted good books for Hubster. Morning Spy was compared to LeCarre ("at his best," no less), so I thought we both might enjoy the books. Well, Hubster didn't love it, and I liked it more than him, but still, meh. It's not LeCarre, I'll tell you that. On Amazon, someone described the prose as "clipped," and I agree. Sometimes that means concise and appropriately jarring, sometimes that just means missing something. Some of the characters seemed crudely drawn while others were good. The suspense was weak, too, because we can piece together how it'll end fairly early on. Bottomline: It's a decent spy drama, but it's not a must read. If you want to read it, try not to read reviews or even the dust jacket to preserve the (little) suspense the book has. I think I liked it more not knowing much about it.

2. I found zafu through Amalah's Wednesday Advice Smackdown, and it's awesome! It's a website designed to rank all kinds of jeans and to recommend them to you based on fit and style questions you answer. They show you everything from Target specials to Saks selections so you can choose to splurge or spend and do it with search tools in the comfort of your own home. They provide you with exact style names, so they also spare you the Dressing Room Showdown between 20 ill-fitting pairs and transform it into a matter of gauging the size and slapping down the Benjamins (or Hamiltons). Awesome work, zafu!

3. You know that saying "Same song, second verse, could be better but it's gonna be worse?" (I grew up in an industrial town, but man were we folksy talkers!) Seems like this applies to Rhonda Byrne's The Secret. This Newsweek article does a fair job of breaking it down to its derivitive, wishwashy pieces, but I keep asking myself "doesn't a book like that come out every year?" Anyway, the article is good, and worth reading if only to sooth your soul when someone asks for it by name at the Daedalus Books counter. Grumble.

4. I mentioned that we made a recipe from Rachael Ray's Express Lane Meals cookbook recently, but I didn't write much else about the book. Ray gets a lot of flack for being incessantly upbeat, creating less-than-gourmet meals, being overexposed, and all kinds of other stuff, but she's on to something in the 30-Minute Meals format. After working all day, I do not want to mess with complicated recipes involving 25 ingredients, 3 pots, and five cooking techniques. I want to make a meal and then eat it because darn it, I'M HUNGRY. Most of the book is dedicated to recipes, but she also talks about her kitchen workflow basically - how she has a list of staples she keeps always in her kitchen and the quick trip she makes for specific ingredients. I haven't followed it to the letter, but I've incorportated a few ingredients as I've gone along, and I must say it was helpful to have the nudge to buy them and then specific recipes in which to use them. A couple of days ago, I bought chipotle chilis in adobo because she recommended them, and I ended up using them for a recipe in another cookbook. I'm looking forward to trying out more recipes and incorporating more interesting ingredients into my repertoire, and I like almost all of the 4-5 recipes I've already tried. As cookbooks go, you could do a lot worse.

Well, that's about all I've got for you. You stay sexy, Interweb!

Picture Post: Help! I Can't Quit Edition

2007-03-05T21:59:00.000-05:00

Because I did it all last week, and because I took more pictures this past weekend, I can't seem to avoid another picture post. Meh, I guess it makes up for all those long written posts without any pretty distractions, right? RIGHT.

So J. Morgan and Mair visited. Mair blogs about it here, and I heartily agree with the sentiments therein expressed, but you can read her good words and I'll just give you the (brief) play by play.

We kicked back Friday and talked until late, but Saturday, we hit up Ellicott City for strolling, lunching, and shopping. We ate at Johnny's Bistro on Main, and the food was muy rico, let me just say. We especially enjoyed the Warm Mushroom Salad and the Hummus Plate.

Ellicott City's main drag on Old Columbia Pike.

The Lovely Mair enters a toy store with an adorable name.

A fantastic wine store hid behind this cask and store window. We were enthralled by their selection.

And then we came home (after our sidetrip to Daedalus Books, DANGEROUS) and made awesome fish tacos from Rachael Ray's Express Lane Meals cookbook. Huzzah for cheap tilapia and guacamole dressing!

J Morgan and Mair devour their tacos with gusto. And then leave us - wah!

Picture Post Week: Details, Details

2007-03-01T22:57:00.000-05:00

Relief work on a gate near the Capitol.

The moon was out, at three in the afternoon, and it positioned itself behind the dome. The shot practically took itself.

I was chilly, sitting in a bus stop, and waiting for Hubster to find the car, dig it out, and pick me and all our luggage up at the curb in the Metro station. I blame boredom.

And this last shot seems to be taken in another world. It's another image taken from our hotel room's window, but this time the pedestrian had no umbrella. Sucka.

And that's all for the first-ever FyF Picture Post Week. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed uploading images and writing captions. That's "quite a bit," in case it wasn't self-evident. Happy weekend, kids. I'm going to spend it with J. Morgan and Mair. ¡Chau!

Goodness, Gracious, Great Balls of Snow

2007-02-28T21:38:00.000-05:00

Sunday morning, whilst we enjoyed our breakfast in the hotel restaurant, the heavens let loose great wet globs of snow. We hadn't been paying attention to the weather report, so we didn't realize at the time that we were in for four inches followed by a night of "wintry mix," but it sure looked pretty from our room window.

It dusted the picturesque fire station whose alarm had gone off a couple of times during our stay.

It dusted the less-pictureque liquor store adjacent to it.

It dusted the street corner nearby, and the trees looked gorgeous, ethereal.

It made this smart pedestrian look totally adorable. And it made his/her photo stalker (moi) a very happy shutter bug.

P.S. In case you wondered what Raw format would get you, the answer is detailed snow. There's detail in them there drifts! It's amazing to watch the Photoshop program (a plugin for CS or earlier, built in to CS2) work, allowing you (with a keyboard shortcut, God bless them) to see exactly where you gain and lose detail in the highlights and shadows, allowing you see just where the processing is giving you results. I'm still a novice, and the number one thing I need to study is getting good exposure at capture, but I can already see how it'll change the way I take pictures. I'd also recommend a book Rob Sheppard's Adobe Camera Raw. Very helpful.

Picture Post Week: Capitol Building

2007-02-27T23:06:00.000-05:00

Saturday afternoon, on our walk back from the National Portrait Gallery, we decided to trek to the Capitol Building. Interestingly, though we've taken dozens of friends and family members on the National Mall tour, we've rarely walked all the way to the Capitol. It was nice to spend some time snapping pictures of the building and the view from it down the Mall.

View from the Capitol toward the Washington and Lincoln Memorials.

Looking upward from the building, front and center. Hubster remarked that it looks like a fortress. (Photo Credit: Hubster)

I'd never noticed this little alcove with the trees before. I think it's lovely. (Photo Credit: Hubster)

That evening we had dinner at M & S Grill. Hubster enjoyed the chicken parmesan (with the world's largest chicken breast, seriously, it was huge) and I enjoyed my bay scallops in citrus butter with an herb crust. We also shared their creme brulee, which had toasted almond slivers on top, and I decided that while not necessary, the almonds did deliver a pleasant flavor note. Good on you, M & S. Anyway, on the walk home, we noticed the bright Capitol framed at the end of the street of our hotel, so we snapped a picture before heading back into the warmth.

Picture Post Week: National Portrait Gallery

2007-02-26T20:15:00.000-05:00

Seven years ago, I was geeked about my senior class trip to London in the spring. We'd see museums and galleries, pubs and squares, a castle and some cathedrals, and I'd could not wait to whip our my passport and get outta dodge. Sandwiched between the British Museum and the National Library's exhibition on Bibles (Christian schools gots to get them a church connection), I noticed we were slated for a visit to the Britain's National Portrait Gallery. I was so excited to be heading over the pond for any reason, I didn't really give it much thought, but it turned out to be a highlight of the trip. It helped that my best friends were with me, snarking the fashion, furnishings, facial expressions, and major life moments of many of those pictured. It seemed like every other image was something I'd seen in my textbooks growing up, of course they were 1-in square in the books, but it was amazing not just to see the whole portrait but to see all of these people thrown together - like art and history all at once.

When we moved to DC, having failed to ever hear of such a gallery here, I naturally looked it up. And it was closed. It recently reopened (after a seven-year hiatus for renovation and restoration), and Hubster and I just HAD to check it out. Sometimes, it's nice to be married to a fellow learning nerd. This was one of those times.

We got there around when it opens at 11:30am (coincidentally), so we happened to catch the third floor (20th Century American Portraiture) pretty wide open. The restored building is mighty fine.

Dome on the third floor. It was a bright day, so the sun is just pouring through that stained glass.

He may have had a hand in our views on education, but we philosophers claim John Dewey, too. Unless we hate American pragmatists. Then not so much.

Back in the day, mom included a biography of George Washington Carver in our homeschooling curriculum. I was deeply moved by his life story and his scientific work, and I remember seeing this portrait and thinking how well it captured my conception of him. I have no idea what he was really like, but I'm pretty sure I'd like to have tea with him in the afterlife.

This portrait of FDR's inauguration has some fun caricature work.

We wandered into one section on the second floor which was labeled Graphic Arts on our map and really wasn't. It was part of the American Art Museum's exhibition entitled: "Eadweard Muybridge: The Central American Journey." It included amazing photographs of Central American people and landscapes (mostly landscapes), but the design of the rooms, the colors, and the awesome frame job made the collection look fantastic.

Next time I go there, I'm totally asking them about their frames.

FyF First: Picture Post Week.

2007-02-25T21:09:00.000-05:00

Hubster and I went away for the weekend - away to the city which makes us its suburbanites. I know, when we do something, we really know how to get it done. We dream big; we're dreamers. And we also like to shoot us some pictures. And I'm going to burn them off all week. Because content is scarce, people, we took a lot of sweet snaps. So enjoy the FyF's First Ever Picture Post Week. (Pomp and flair for the dramatic enhanced this evening by the fact that I'm watching the Oscars and blogging on commercial breaks. My wardrobe provided by chain boutiques and Vogue purse patterns.)

Moi, at the Mall, with some strange arm positioning.

We pricelined our hotel, landing the Hyatt Regency on Capitol Hill, a fairly swanky, and satisfactory homebase from which to launch operations to the National Portrait Gallery, Chinatown during the Georgetown/Pitt game (oopsies!), M & S Grill, and, of course, our nation's hott legislative HQ, the Capitol Building.

Preview of Coming Attractions: Some fantastic Capitol images, like this one from Hubster.

Today it started snowing in the morning and laid down 4 inches before switching to everyone's favorite "wintery mix." I could not resist this little tree while waiting for a train at a Metro station.

Moi, enjoying the flavors of the city. Also cold.

Puff Goes the Cat Tail

2007-02-22T22:33:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I finished writing my post and pushed my chair away from my desk for bed time. There was much yowling and the cats jumped backward, their tails looking like giant pipe cleaners. I still have no idea how I startled them so much; I didn't roll backward that abruptly, either. They just lost it. And of course, I had to humiliate them with snaps. Because I love.

Tiny's tail is currently three sizes too big.

Little's tail's not too small either.

Remembering That I Am Dust

2007-02-21T21:15:00.000-05:00

Today is Ash Wednesday. I have ashes on my forehead, placed on me in the sign of the cross but better resembling a grey blob - a grey blob that iches where it's drawn the moisture from my skin. I knelt on a wood floor because the choir loft doesn't have kneeling cushions. I listened to the Rite I language (which our church uses every other year) through all the embellishments of the Elizabethan English to the service elements I thought I knew by heart. Yet I am glad I went to church today.

Our choir director hates Lent. She understands its importance, but she dislikes the dreary music, the special rules (she can't pick any hymns with the word "allelulia" anywhere in them) and the black robes we wear. She's a cheerful person and the dreary season feels unnecessary when it comes around every single year. I, on the other hand, love me some Lenten season. It feeds into my melancholic side, no doubt, with its focus on the tragic, the unworthy, the wrong and imperfect. But truly there is nothing more satisfying than a good requiem, a good minor Russian liturgical piece, a sad movie, a tragic book, a poem that cuts you to the quick. In this Hubster and I are similar. We appreciate life through appreciating the lows as much as the highs, but I know how tough it is to feel happy and find your loved one revelling in a sad song - you feel put upon, unready, frankly, you want to run the other way.

Every year the church experiences Lent. Not all churches usher it in with dust and ashes, although most usher it out with the extra large hymns, range-y descants but of COURSE, and all the pomp they can muster for Easter. I remember the first time my non-denominational church joined a Lutheran parish for the Imposition of the Ashes. We filed past the pastors who dipped his hands in a grey pot and sealed our foreheads with a cross saying over and over "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." I was a happy kid, most of the time, so why was I so fascinated by this reminder? Why was I upset ever after when I wasn't able to receive ashes and hear that litany said?

I'm weird, yes, but not so weird that I can escape that need of humanity to be a part of community. I guess that's why this service is so special to me - it ushers in the downer of Lent by joining us together, with Christ and with each other, for a season of studying the dark side of life. We note where and how we've failed to live up to our calling, we note the pain and suffering the world. We do not dole out platitudes and move on quickly to the allelulias. We sit and contemplate. We trade the silver chalice for the clay one. We shroud the gold crosses with purple cloth and focus on that which we'd like to forget - our mortality, our limitation, our failure. There are few occasions in American society where we are encouraged to focus on those things - we idealize a rather perky society on the whole - but here we all strip away pretense and avoidance and kneel and think and feel.

You don't have to be a Christian to understand that deep need to be honest about the human experience, but I hope we Christians, if not in this season than at least sometime each year, observe life with unflinching eyes and experience a time of renewal in our faith not just through the Easter lilies but through the ashes as well.

The Flores are BACK, BABY!

2007-02-20T21:47:00.000-05:00

I just opened a RAW image which I took on my own digital SLR which was captured on a 2 GB card that my sweetie just bought me for Valentine's Day. If you'd told me last Valentine's Day what I would be doing this year, I would not have believed you. Life, kids, can be so pleasantly surprising. Mira:

The roses might have been there when I arrived home Saturday. And they might all be so darn pretty that I want to eat them. But I restrain myself and instead take huge digital images that I then obsessively process.

Obviously I have some kinks to work out and lots of options to explore. Fortunately, my trip to the printers yielded a book on Camera RAW so I have some help.

At least it comes closer to capturing the velvety texture of the petals. Someday I'll be good enough at capture and process to achieve it.

I might also be geeked because I have done all of the following fabulous things in the last 12 hours: received by Valentine's 2GB Compact Flash Card, received my Valentine's cookbook, exchanged some frumpy brown shoes for bangin' brown boots, drank some coffee at a local fair-trade organic coffee shop (and it was delicious!), started reading Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez (awesome so far), and my husband has been a hilarious companion since I got home. By all means tune me out until I rant bitterly about minor annoyances again. You might get a sugar buzz if you stick around here too long.

Lots of Snow and Dress Shopping

2007-02-19T18:40:00.000-05:00

The sights, sounds, quips and profound realizations of an entire week are difficult to condense. I know I can't do it justice. Working from home at someone else's home through a two-day snow storm was alternately fun and frustrating - fun when the comraderie was high, the kitty was about, and I knew I'd use the time for the end of the week's slacking off. It was less fun when friends and family discussed the details of their current slacking off. I felt left out, what can I say? I did manage to visit the office on my last day in Indiana to catch up with coworkers. I'm also fully registered, including flights and hotel (Westin, here I come!!!) for Photoshop World East 2007. I'm so pumped! I'm missing Holy Week (which I'm NOT pumped about, especially considering how richly rewarding it was last year), but it's still going to rock my face clean off of my head. Permit me a dorkish "W00T!" (Thank you.)

Thursday afternoon, I picked up my one-way rental at the combination National Car Rental/health food store (where else?) and headed south for my former-roomie's digs at University of Kentucky law school. I had an uneventful trip, thankfully, despite the snow and Indy traffic, and I arrived in time to enjoy a late dinner with her and her fiance. That night, K-dog and I managed to talk until 4am. I believe we've now done this enough times to demonstrate that our "tired" brain signals don't work around each other. It's all in the name of science for these one-semester science majors!

K-dog and I amused ourselves the next day by shopping for dresses as Dillard's while we talked. We were looking for a dress suitable for a wedding she had to attend in a couple of weeks, but we found tons of adorable dresses on clearance, so we settled for two each. I got an adorable semi-casual dress I'm sure I'll wear to church constantly under my choir robe, and we each bought the same awesome printed-stretch halter dress. We both looked good in it and we, sadly, admitted we'd never spend enough time in the same place for anyone to notice about the whole "matching dresses" thing. Sigh.

That night and the next day were a blur. We drove to Cincinnati to her aunt's house and spent the next day bridesmaid dress shopping with her aunt, her mother, and her sister (who flew in from DC). We found one, in the end, and it's beautiful. It took a while, and quite a bit of emotional wrangling with her family, but we made it work in the end. Huzzah for the triumph of . . . intricate negotiation, I guess. Then she drove me to the airport and I arrived home in time for bed. Oh, and then my husband had the day off today and I didn't and I complained about it all day. And now you're all caught up, so on to the pics:

In Kentucky, liquor "stores" are for the feint of heart, apparently.

The oft-mentioned Florence water tower. I didn't believe her when K-dog claimed this existed. I am duly chastised by my own photographic evidence.

Perhaps the most ubiquitous sight this trip: snow.

Snow falling on trees - I used to think there was nothing lovelier until I saw the sun setting on the ice-encased trees in southern Indiana and Ohio. It was so gorgeous that I'm still mad I didn't have my camera and time to spend trolling the streets and highways for the perfect shot. Someday . . .

The Word of the Day is "Apropos."

2007-02-14T22:04:00.000-05:00

I've been reading Zadie Smith's The Autograph Man for the past couple of weeks, and today I stumbled across the following lines:

"There will never be that moment, don't you get it?" she asked, punching the arm of the sofa. "When you've had all the different people you want, when you're done, when you settle for me. People don't settle for people. They resolve to be with them. It takes faith. You draw a circle in the sand and you agree to stand in it and believe in it. It's faith, you idiot." (p.291)

The passage appears at a crisis point in a relationship when the woman realizes her man betrayed her, hence the tone. The book deals a lot with themes arising out of the Jewish background of its main character, so faith is not a new concept to him. Still, this concept of needing faith in the relationship is telling, I think. It's not a new concept, but it was interesting to read something so true yet smarm-free on this Day of Smarmy Love. There's a place for sentimentality, but too often it seems like we're either cynical or silly about our loves and our lovers. The honest in-between is worth a look.

That's all I've got for you. Except for Hubster, because I might have said it on the phone a couple eight times, but I kinda love you. Enough that I embarrass you on the interweb with my base sentimentality. I know, I'm too giving!

Snow Day!

2007-02-13T14:17:00.000-05:00

I may be in the mad, mad world of Indiana winter storms, but I am not dead. Yet. I flew out here Sunday night and stayed over with Bee for delicious dinner eating, Grammy snarking, rum and coke drinking, and a whole lotta sittin' around. Yum. A snippet of the evening's proceedings:

Scene: Will, Neo the Cat and I in Bee's kitchen

Erica to Neo, who is sniffing at her face: "Hey there, kitten-cat, what's up? Why are you sniffing at me so intently? Is my breath scented?"

Will (looks up from stirring the pasta sauce): "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

E: "I was talking to Neo. He seemed to sniffing my breath and I asked him if it was scented."

W: "Oh, I thought you said something else."

E (laughing): "No, honey, they're not scented!"

/scene

Scene: Bee, Plankiest, and I are watching the Grammys and Beyonce comes out to sing looking like this:

E: Oh, Beyonce, you can wear the white gardenias but your are SO NOT Billie Holiday. Grrrr.

Bee: I'm so glad Erica's here to get mad at the random stuff.

Dawn: (laughs musically, not because of the occasion but because her laugh is always musical)

/scene

After partying and talking, we hit the hay at midnight. BossLady picked us up at the house around 7:30am for the drive down to Cincinnati for a press check on my big beastly project. I got to tour the printing house seeing the massive machinery which provides so much delight to readers like me by printing, trimming, gluing and sewing words into pretty, pretty books and magazines. Oh, and we also got to take free books from their "sample room," a magical place from whence I took several digital photography guides, a couple of crafting books (Teach Yourself to Knit? Okay!), and some other good stuff. Raise the song for free books! (Cue random, semi-blasphemous singing.)

We got out a little early from the proceedings because we knew the Blizzard of 2007 would hit in the evening. We ended up having time for a leisurely dinner at Loon Lake Lodge after all, and I enjoyed my American Bison Meatloaf with Garlic and Cheddar Smashed Potatoes (although avoid their overdone, bacon-flavored green beans - blech), as well as half-price bottle of wine night with a Jewel Collection Petite Syrah. We wrapped up and drove Bee home before heading home ourselves and beating the snow. Highlight:

Scene: BossLady's car, as she prepares to fill up the gas tank on our way home. Bee and I in attendance.

BossLady: Could you get my company credit card out of my wallet? Be careful about the change purse, though. It's a little overfull, and it's incontinent.

Bee and E: (laugh uproariously)

E: You know, that works as a metaphor for budgets, too. I'm going to try using that next time I overspend - I can't be blamed, MY WALLET IS INCONTINENT!

/scene

I guess I didn't realize how tired I was because I started reading my cuddled up in bed at 10:00 and I awoke at 3:00am to find myself still dressed under the covers. Oops! I got ready for bed and slept until 9:00am when I got ready for going into the office. Sadly, with roads bad and getting worse, the office was not to be, so I've been working from Boss HQ all day. Thursday afternoon I head off to see KD and do all kinds of crazy wedding stuff with her, her mom, her aunt, and her sister in (where else for this trip?) Cincinnati. I'm looking forward to it, especially now that working through this snow day gives me the time off gratis. Huzzah!

Okay, I know I'm boring you. I could tell you all about the fantastic weekend Hubster and I enjoyed, but that would be OVER THE TOP ANNOYING, I KNOW. So I dutifully shut up and tell you to have a great day and stay warm and safe. ¡Hasta!

Possible Disturbance in the Time/Space Continuum

2007-02-08T21:18:00.000-05:00

On the way home from choir tonight, I pulled behind a hatchback Suburu and my eyes fell on a bumper sticker whose likeness I have mimicked below:

Prominently placed in the trunk were three hula hoops - one florescent yellow, one florescent orange, and a black one with dots of the other two colors strewn about its hideous surface. It was like 1992 all over again. Back then I also liked trolls, wore my hair in pigtails, oh, and I WAS TEN. What's their excuse?

Update Post? Zzzzzz

2007-02-06T23:47:00.001-05:00

It's been a dull week here at the Fyf. The cats have been only low-key amusing. I've been collecting important supplies for crafting but have yet to generate anything new this week. Lazy slob, I know. I haven't cooked anything too fancy nor tried anything too exciting for takeout. I enjoyed a couple of free concerts in the US Army Field Band's Chamber Music series - one with flute and the other with clarinet selections. They were fantastic, both well over the hour mark in length and chock full of beautiful music. It looks like they tour the country, so if you get the chance hit them up. Lovely, plus people know not to clap between movements - huzzah for fellow music nerds and our persnickity ways!

Today Hubster and I hit up DuClaw Brewing Company for happy hour with friends, and I tried their Misfit Red ale. Delicious beer, totally insane crowds. I guess it was an event night when they debuted a new brew, but still, yikes. Still, the beer was fantastic. Worth a little crowd surfing. I just had the one and I didn't try any food, so maybe we'll return sometime and check them out more fully, but it was fine for a casual get together.

Oh, and I've finished reading several books. I was hoping to write one big recap with all of them together, but frankly, I'm not motivated to write that much. So here are my truncated reviews:

Matthew Pearl's The Dante Club: I love this murder-mystery/literary thriller because of the interesting, fairly good characterization, the period detail (it's set in the mid-19th century), and the excellent plotting. Read List Priority? High.

Tracy Chevalier's The Lady and the Unicorn: Better known for the Girl with the Pearl Earring (which I've yet to read, although the movie was gorgeous), this author's style is beautiful prose with well-drawn characters, but aside from those features, I didn't really love it. It was interesting because of the period detail, but the plot and story still left something to be desired. Read List Priority? Medium.

Anne Rice's Interview with a Vampire: As I alluded in previous post, it was because I so enjoyed The Historian (review here), that I decided to delve into other vampire-themed books when I picked it up. At her best, Rice describes the apparently heightened vampire senses of sight and hearing and movement and in those descriptions, there's rich detail and inventive passages. The story involves an at-times reluctant vampire wrestling with the morality of killing to survive eternally. It seemed as though the rationalizations of the character lacked depth in some way - the changes were too sudden and convenient to the plot. I don't know. Ultimately, I found it unsatisfying. Read List Priority? Low.

Right now I'm plowing through Matthew Pearl's second novel, The Poe Shadow, but it's not nearly as engaging as The Dante Club, and I'm finding it hard to sympathize with the main character's obsession with Poe's death considering the he has rather slim reasons to ignore his future wife and his work responsibilities. It's annoying enough that I don't actually choose to the read the book often. Not usually a good sign, right? We'll see if I finish. For now, enjoy this totally unrelated picture:

Experimenting with the poster edges filter in Photoshop. (Incidentally, should I be alarmed that our church's trees are budding now, in the dead of winter? I totally love this tree. Don't die, Tree!)

¡Hace frío!

2007-02-06T23:39:00.000-05:00

Winter. We go out less because it's so cold, because it might snow, because tea and a quiet night in which your thermal-regulatory systems won't be challenged in any way? I'LL TAKE THAT WITH A SIDE OF WARM COOKIES, THANKS. (Incidentally, I love that in Spanish, the weather has agency: it's not that it "is cold," it's that it "does cold." It makes me feel better about taking it personally.)

Hubster had to go get a crown put on Monday. I was going to drop him off and then pick him up. In between, I was going to browse for matte-jersey-appropriate patterns at a local fabric store (that jersey? $3/yd at G Street, talk about your shopping coups!). The second I landed out of the car, all motivation was gone. Not even the irritating and repetitive dental TV programming - hilariously entitled "DentLine," get it, like "DateLine" for teeth, HA - could motivate me out of that warm room and into the car for the extra cold my errand would entail. Now, I eventually got bored and thought about destroying their giant plasma screen just so the pictures would stop - all those bad teeth magically fixed with dental procedures costing mere thousands of dollars. "Double-mortgage your house, sell a kid, pretty teeth will totally be worth it," coaxes the DentLine voice as my daydream self unleashes a primal scream, rips the TV off the wall and bends the frame into a horrific industrial sculpture expressing my tumultuous relationship with postmodern dentistry.

I left for Joann's instead. If anyone's making me pay for a plasma, it should end up on my wall in functional condition instead of on the floor of a waiting room in a mangled heap, potential sculptural career notwithstanding. It was too cold to take it out to the dumpster anyway.

Colts for the win!

2007-02-05T22:33:00.000-05:00

So Friday, BossLady calls to inform me that if the Colts lose the Super Bowl, I will get two paid hours of work so that my day starts at 10:00am. If the Colts win, I get a PAID DAY OFF. Hallelujah!

It was a lovely day, the game yesterday was pretty fun to watch (the delicious food we enjoyed with friends whilst watching had a weeee bit to do with that), and the whole weekend was fine, really. Saturday, I went to a magical place called G Street Fabrics which was so stocked to the gills with beautiful apparel fabrics, gorgeous decorating fabrics, trims, notions, and anything a seamstress' heart could desire that I've asked my husband to procure a burial plot for me on its premises. Should you be a) a sewer and b) in the DC vicinity YOU MUST SEE IT. [swoon]

Other than that, I didn't really do much of interest. I'll write something tomorrow. Technically, I still have the day off for another hour and 27 minutes, and I intend to use it. To sleep. I live large, people, and I'm okay with it. Good night!

Boot Camp It Ain't

2007-02-01T22:07:00.000-05:00

It's interesting that I wrote this whole anti-FitWell post the other day, because I'm increasingly comfortable with matters of nutrition, health, and weight management lately. I've mentioned that I enjoy yoga oodles of times, but joining a local studio or classes at a gym is complicated what with Hubster and I sharing a car. Until it's financially and physically possible for me to get out and do yoga, I've been doing it at home with videos and books as my guides. About a month ago, though, I realized I hadn't been doing it more than once a week for a long time. I wasn't motivated anymore, and I was letting all exercise slide because of it. Oopsies!

I have four or five videos which I alternate, but they tend to seem the same after a while, and variety is the spice of every other part of my life, so shaking things up seemed like one way to get back on track. I bought a "cardio-sculpting" program that's supposed to involve both aerobic and low-resistance strength-training exercises. It's been humiliation central ever since what with my body and mind have totally separate ideas about how to accomplish all this movement, but at least I'm moving. I now realize several key things: 1) the fact that I ever learned to swing dance can only be attributed to persistence because my feet are unruly at best, 2) my heart is NOT in shape - every time I do the "cardio interval" segment I have to skip portions because my heart starts to feel like the entire cast of Stomp on speed, and 3) "boot camp" is only a figurative title. I asked myself the question "Aren’t you supposed to yell at me and call me 'homo' and motivate me over this wall?" I should have my brother revamp the entire course to more accurately reflect his experiences in Army. Yes, that's just what their target demographic of 18-34-year-old women wants - real, balls-to-the-wall, remove-your-gas-mask-in-a-contaminated-room-then-state- your-name-and-serial-number boot camp.

I'm better at the whole food angle. It's by no means easy for a gustophile to avoid those tasty, tasty plates of alfredo in favor of marinara, but I'm doing it and doing it consistently. My cooking is lowfat pretty much all the time because otherwise Hubster gets all antsy about his nutritional intake and puh-lease tell me someone else's significant other does that because I swear I WILL END HIM sometimes, and I would like to think I'm not alone out here. I guess the flip side of that coin is that I eat well most of the time and save my dietary sinning for restaurants where it is done with joy and relish (the emotion, not the condiment).

This week I've been enjoying my workouts. No, really, Mom, I'm not kidding or exaggerating (please don't have a heart attack). I'm also realizing that this will stave off back problems in the future, and since I also graduated from physical therapy this week, I am looking forward to saving my $40 co-pays for more frivolous matters. My therapist said over and over that regular, full-body workouts were a good way to ensure that my goal of financial wantonness was met.

Bottomline: I have more reasons than bad body image to eat well and exercise. More importantly, I'm able to be more consistent about pursuing those things in a way that motivates and challenges me. It's nice to have made that kind of progress.

Dropping the Ball

2007-01-31T21:29:00.000-05:00

What do you write when it's the middle of a long week but you managed to finish your monster project at work but don't want to talk about it? How about if you just came from a volunteer meeting for the church website and you're worried about your future involvement? Okay, here's one: you are tired, cranky, and you just want to spend the waning moments of your day somewhere other than in front of a computer screen - what do you write then?

Why you write this apologetic post and call it a night, that's what you do.

Bitter Reminiscence

2007-01-30T22:48:00.000-05:00

I might have mentioned this before, but last Saturday, I talked with Rachel for a solid three hours. One of the things we mentioned in our eloquent diatribe on the evils of college was the infamous FitWell BMI Incident (or FBI, as I shall rechristen it).

FitWell is student-shorthand for our "Fitness and Wellness" class, a required gym credit which most of us got out of the way freshman year. It was, without doubt, the most annoying class I took at college. The FBI is symptomatic of its problems. See, the staff of my college were dreadfully worked up over the Freshman 15, especially our chief instructor (a well-known male chauvinist). Those freshman women were not about to get all flabby and drive our admissions rates down once everyone figured out we didn't have a good hottie pool, by gum! Apparently, the college couldn't be bothered to supply this all-important class with a more accurate metric than the BMI, say, a set of calipers. Oh well, who cares if we enhance their weight-phobia and give them bad information? At least they won't be FAT.

So every year, they set aside a class period to evaluate our fitness levels, but more importantly, to make sure as many women as possible ate a strict celery diet for at least a week. To demonstrate how farcical this entire endeavor turned out to be, I'll mention that my BMI indicated I was OBESE when this picture was taken.

Exhibit A: Total Fatty.

I remember how horrible that made me feel the whole day. It was impossible to look at myself, conditioned as I was by our culture and my own low self esteem, and believe that I was healthy at my perfectly healthy weight. Some random number said I wasn't - heart disease and zero dates, here I come!

I thought of this when I found a post by Alice Bradley (better known from her hilarious blog Finslippy) entitled "Hey, fat-obsessed America!" She's talking about the recent plan floated by some school boards to putting children's BMIs on their report cards as a means to keep kids from getting fat young and making our overall population statistics tend toward the overweight. It's hilarious, but it reminded me that data without context is a dangerous thing.

The men in FitWell fared better because they hadn't been told all their lives that being pretty was what they were put on earth to be. They didn't get good information, either, but at least most of them didn't walk around shell-shocked for a week like some of my friends did. After the initial evening's torment, I did okay. I didn't develop an eating disorder from the FBI. I probably didn't alter my eating habits all that much. But I did feel like total crap over it when they could have provided me with excellent information fairly easily and sent me on to the rest of the class with real, usable knowledge instead of the vague indication that, once again, I wasn't good enough.

Picture Post: Manic Monday Edition

2007-01-29T23:38:00.000-05:00

It's all cats today. But I've got some cute ones so hold on to your shabby caps, peasants.

But first, some uncuteness:

This is a decent petfeeder, but they still found ways to sneak kibbles. Hubster decided to get serious with his evasive action before the pets pack on pounds.

Although: Note to Petmate - the "Le Bistro" might be considered false advertising when the feed inside is most likely "meat matter" than, say, a filet mignon sandwich with basil aioli. I guess the ultimate consumer is too busy grooming his/her paws to sue. Still, thin ice, as far as I'm concerned.

Moving on: cuteness!

She seems to know that it's for scratching, but neither of our little deities really goes in for much of that, so she's repurposed it as a gym/cuddle bug. She does pull ups and hug maneuvers. How inventive.

The Tiny in her natural habitat: the sunlit living room floor. Hey, it's not my idea of paradise, but she's so happy she forgot to retract her tongue.

I'm getting a sugar buzz from this cuteness.

And now, another installment in our ongoing series: Putting Things Around Persephone's Body for Funsies, part 438. This week's material of choice: invisible picture wire (plastic) with a tensile strength of 50 lbs.

HUMANS! AGAIN WITH THIS CRAP!

What if I bite it off? (Gnaws diligently)

Just stop laughing and take it off already. Oh, the humiliation.

The Unholy Giggles

2007-01-28T15:36:00.000-05:00

This morning in church, the kids' choir sang a song I knew from elsewhere, and elsewhere that was not so much reverent as, well, not. I barely held it together. See, I knew it from my friend's post here, where Stephen Colbert sings it and performs an energetic jig. Oh, and this was being sung as I took communion. Somehow, I managed to let only a smile and a silent giggle escape. Fortunately, you can enjoy this without peril of eternal woe:

It's been a fun weekend, capping off with that little Sunday morning tidbit. Saturday night, Hans and Rachel came over for dinner. I made chicken marsala, which was delicious, and I enjoyed talking with Rachel a lot. She's going through The Year Of Change like I did a couple of years back - graduated, started working, planned and executed a wedding, became a wife, basically changed it all and is trying to keep it all together. She's posting about this brave new life so we get to enjoy her learning to cook posts, her learning to love exercise posts, and her learning to be married posts. She's weathering it fine, not that she needs me to tell her that (ha!) but in case y'all were wondering. We also share similar, less-than-spectacular college experiences, so comparing notes about the other side of college life was refreshing. The only person missing was Churro, her roommate and my Spanish buddy, who was sorely missed. Shoutout, M-dawg!

Most of the rest of the weekend was me catching the organization bug and going to town. I redid the kitchen "pantry" (college cube storage repurposed for can and flour storage - hott!), we hung up the much-mentioned memo boards, we scrubbed, tidied, vacuumed and made the house presentable. If it weren't so annoying to keep up, I bet we'd like living in this clean and organized place! Shoulda, woulda, coulda, huh?