Gwen Stefani... what the hell are you doing?
I'm watching you on American Idol right now. Let's discuss that first. What are you doing on this show? Do I need to remind you you're actually too cool to be on this show? Is Gavin bound and gagged back in your house in the Hollywood Hills because he was trying to stop you from doing this? Seriously.. you are.. wait.. were, too cool for this.
And the Japanese sorority you're sporting with you everywhere. I don't get this Sound of Music on acid sugary sweet Kill Bill thing you've got going on. Again, it's confusing. And where is your band? If I can be honest, I really preferred you in track pants singing with No Doubt. Is that out of the cards now? Because I think you should go back to that.. like running back to that.. like now.
And have you noticed that you've never looked hotter than when you had literally no makeup on during the mentoring parts of the show? And those shoes you're wearing.. is there a reason why you didn't use the heel stab Chris and Sanjaya for butchering two of your best songs? I'm just curious.
There's still time to return to the Jedi, Gwen. Run towards the light, Gwen.. run...
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Vacancy
I want to thank the makers of "Vacancy" for producing a film that now has me terrified to travel for work... period. Fantastic. And I haven't even seen the movie. I just saw the preview. Given I spend about 8 weeks of the year traveling for business, this could be a small problem. Before it was just the plane ride that worked me up. Now I can look forward to no sleep as I wonder if a lunatic is taping me through the vent in the wall and lurking around waiting to slash my lily white throat after hours of random torture.
Love it.
Love it.
Ode to DC 101
Today didn't have to be bad. It didn't. Road trip in the morning with two colleagues I like just fine, and an afternoon with no real tasks other than digging out from being away for a few days.
Didn't quite happen that way. I'll spare you the details. No true tragedies, mind you, just crummy work yuckiness. The good news is that I still had my rental car. I turned the ignition on my way home and was greeted by a trilogy of Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand, I Alone by Live and Sunday Bloody Sunday by U2. It was just the combination I needed to just rock out my aggression behind the wheel. Head banging, wheel slapping.. it was fantastic. And the best therapy around.
I felt a little like I was in a cheesy television commercial but, in the long run, it was a small price to play. I just can't believe people actually do that. Or, maybe they don't, and it's just me that re-enacts Jerry Maguire singing Free Fallin. Oh well.
Didn't quite happen that way. I'll spare you the details. No true tragedies, mind you, just crummy work yuckiness. The good news is that I still had my rental car. I turned the ignition on my way home and was greeted by a trilogy of Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand, I Alone by Live and Sunday Bloody Sunday by U2. It was just the combination I needed to just rock out my aggression behind the wheel. Head banging, wheel slapping.. it was fantastic. And the best therapy around.
I felt a little like I was in a cheesy television commercial but, in the long run, it was a small price to play. I just can't believe people actually do that. Or, maybe they don't, and it's just me that re-enacts Jerry Maguire singing Free Fallin. Oh well.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Laugh Whore cont...
Unexpected laughter is a wonderful thing, but man can it throw you off.
My smirk-inducing joke earned rave laughter tonight. Why? I have NO idea. But it proved so distracting that I was thrown off of my mark completely, and neglected to introduce 3 of the 6 colleagues I'm responsible for pointing out because of it. Luckily, I remembered the big whigs and was able to introduce the others later.
Still... c'mon. Good grief.
My smirk-inducing joke earned rave laughter tonight. Why? I have NO idea. But it proved so distracting that I was thrown off of my mark completely, and neglected to introduce 3 of the 6 colleagues I'm responsible for pointing out because of it. Luckily, I remembered the big whigs and was able to introduce the others later.
Still... c'mon. Good grief.
Why I need a car
Nothing makes me feel more grown up than driving in and around New York City. I don't mean it in a good way. Still, sometimes it astounds me that I, a little girl from Bumble Something, Maine has regularly driven around NYC and lived to tell about it. I can also be really quite aggressive when I want to be. Who knew?
I drove from White Plains to Princeton, NJ today, and despite the horror of approaching, encountering and passing the George Washington Bridge, it was a great ride. It's a gorgeous, sunny 74 degree day here, and I had the music blasting, the windows down and my sunglasses properly perched on my nose. I am SUCH a fan of the road trip on a sunny day. And I'm adoring my Saturn Ion rental car.
Maybe it's because I drive so rarely that I get such joy from that experience. I am puzzled, however, that I spent a good 45 minutes driving in NJ and flipping radio stations and did not hear a single Springsteen song. Further, I've been in Princeton 40 minutes and I've yet to see Dr. House. Unacceptable.
I drove from White Plains to Princeton, NJ today, and despite the horror of approaching, encountering and passing the George Washington Bridge, it was a great ride. It's a gorgeous, sunny 74 degree day here, and I had the music blasting, the windows down and my sunglasses properly perched on my nose. I am SUCH a fan of the road trip on a sunny day. And I'm adoring my Saturn Ion rental car.
Maybe it's because I drive so rarely that I get such joy from that experience. I am puzzled, however, that I spent a good 45 minutes driving in NJ and flipping radio stations and did not hear a single Springsteen song. Further, I've been in Princeton 40 minutes and I've yet to see Dr. House. Unacceptable.
Laugh Whore
The thing about public speaking is that there is only one way to really know if the audience is engaged in what you have to say. You've got to make them laugh.
Over the past few days I've been doing a lot of public speaking. As I looked at my remarks, there were two potential spots for solid laughs, so as I near them in my remarks, I tend to pick up a little energy. Why? Because there's nothing better than (intentionally) making a roomful of people laugh.
It turns out that only one of these spots gets consistent laughter. The other is more of a smirk instigator. And that's OK. I get the solid laugh at the end to close the deal and that works for me. I guess my point in sharing this is how we all fall victim to it. Part of my remarks include the introduction of a very impressive, very respected keynote speaker. An incredibly bright guy, PhD, all sorts of books written, considered a national specialist on public policy (I almost typed pubic there.. a national specialist in pubic policy), he's as much of a laugh whore as I am.
I've seen him go for the same jokes that have worked the night before. Some of them have been new so it's endearing to see him keep in the ones that worked the night before. Don't get me wrong, he's a funny guy, with this dry dry dry sense of humor, but it's simply a very humanizing thing. This is a person who is a little intimidating, truth be told, but he wants that acceptance as much as the rest of us. And we want it for him. Last night, I actually saw his following speakers set him up for a joke he forgot to tell, because it worked so well the night before.
The past few days have been a nice boost to the confidence too. I've had a lot of people in the audience and a lot of impressive people I'm traveling with compliment my delivery and my remarks. It's a good feeling. As you know, I've been feeling a bit defeated lately at work, so it's nice to get my groove back. Plus, to garner any sort of praise in the company I'm keeping on these trips is a truly remarkable thing. Of course, there is a moment when I'm about to introduce one of our other speakers where I have a Bridget Jones Mr. Titspervert moment every time I'm about to say his name. Let's hope that moment continues to pass.
We have our biggest event tonight! Let's hope the luck continues.
Over the past few days I've been doing a lot of public speaking. As I looked at my remarks, there were two potential spots for solid laughs, so as I near them in my remarks, I tend to pick up a little energy. Why? Because there's nothing better than (intentionally) making a roomful of people laugh.
It turns out that only one of these spots gets consistent laughter. The other is more of a smirk instigator. And that's OK. I get the solid laugh at the end to close the deal and that works for me. I guess my point in sharing this is how we all fall victim to it. Part of my remarks include the introduction of a very impressive, very respected keynote speaker. An incredibly bright guy, PhD, all sorts of books written, considered a national specialist on public policy (I almost typed pubic there.. a national specialist in pubic policy), he's as much of a laugh whore as I am.
I've seen him go for the same jokes that have worked the night before. Some of them have been new so it's endearing to see him keep in the ones that worked the night before. Don't get me wrong, he's a funny guy, with this dry dry dry sense of humor, but it's simply a very humanizing thing. This is a person who is a little intimidating, truth be told, but he wants that acceptance as much as the rest of us. And we want it for him. Last night, I actually saw his following speakers set him up for a joke he forgot to tell, because it worked so well the night before.
The past few days have been a nice boost to the confidence too. I've had a lot of people in the audience and a lot of impressive people I'm traveling with compliment my delivery and my remarks. It's a good feeling. As you know, I've been feeling a bit defeated lately at work, so it's nice to get my groove back. Plus, to garner any sort of praise in the company I'm keeping on these trips is a truly remarkable thing. Of course, there is a moment when I'm about to introduce one of our other speakers where I have a Bridget Jones Mr. Titspervert moment every time I'm about to say his name. Let's hope that moment continues to pass.
We have our biggest event tonight! Let's hope the luck continues.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Women these days..
I was flying from Boston to LaGuardia the other night, and a pregnant woman was trying to put her carry on suitcase in the overhead compartment. I wasn't paying much attention, and didn't notice she was pregnant until she made the following announcement.
"Men these days, I'm telling you. I'm 7 months pregnant and no one offers to help me." I looked up and considered the gentleman sitting to my right in the aisle seat. The woman in the aisle seat in Ye Olde Preggers' row engaged her in the diatribe, agreeing wholeheartedly. "It is shameful that none of these men are offering you assistance. I just don't understand this generation." Again, said the seemingly able 40-ish year old woman sitting and watching Ye Olde Preggers struggle.
I was ready to get up and help the woman, if not for the guy to my right who resembled Big Pussy from The Sopranos, passed out sleeping. But, the bigger frustration was the woman who just sat their kivetching with her about the state of men today.
When we landed, a very kind and very small Asian man ran over and pulled her bag down from the compartment. "I'm so sorry ma'am, I had no idea you were pregnant." His even smaller petite Asian girlfriend took the bag from him once it was out of the compartment, and carried it off of the flight for the woman. She, rightly so, was overwhelmed. "This isn't necessary, I was really just speaking to the man who was in back of me waiting in line!"
There's so much to say about what went wrong in this scenario. I offer it up as a Highlights Magazine "Find the mistakes on this page!" exercise to you. As for me, I spot at least 7.
"Men these days, I'm telling you. I'm 7 months pregnant and no one offers to help me." I looked up and considered the gentleman sitting to my right in the aisle seat. The woman in the aisle seat in Ye Olde Preggers' row engaged her in the diatribe, agreeing wholeheartedly. "It is shameful that none of these men are offering you assistance. I just don't understand this generation." Again, said the seemingly able 40-ish year old woman sitting and watching Ye Olde Preggers struggle.
I was ready to get up and help the woman, if not for the guy to my right who resembled Big Pussy from The Sopranos, passed out sleeping. But, the bigger frustration was the woman who just sat their kivetching with her about the state of men today.
When we landed, a very kind and very small Asian man ran over and pulled her bag down from the compartment. "I'm so sorry ma'am, I had no idea you were pregnant." His even smaller petite Asian girlfriend took the bag from him once it was out of the compartment, and carried it off of the flight for the woman. She, rightly so, was overwhelmed. "This isn't necessary, I was really just speaking to the man who was in back of me waiting in line!"
There's so much to say about what went wrong in this scenario. I offer it up as a Highlights Magazine "Find the mistakes on this page!" exercise to you. As for me, I spot at least 7.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Love that dirty water
Greetings from Lawn Guyland! I arrived late last night after a very successful work event in Boston. I did almost kill me and my co-worker as we navigated the Long Island Expressway from LaGuardia at 10 pm in the rain, but she seemed to have a good sense of humor about it, so bygones.
Wheels down at LaGuardia resulted in a heavy heart. It was so good to land in Boston. It was good to see my friends. Boston has always been home to me. Though I spent only 4 years there, my dad grew up and worked there later in life, and we always made frequent trips there when I was a kid. I feel a bit lost in Maine now, where I spent my childhood, because I'm one of those people who was "too good for home" and ran off to the big bad city. As much as I love Maine, I couldn't live there again. Further, if I could take one snapshot chapter of my life that was near perfect at any given time, it happened when I was living in Beantown. Granted, there was one glaring problem going on at the time, but the good definitely outweighed the bad.
So as I reconnected with some friends in the 24 hours I had there, I finally came to the realization that I am a Boston girl. The way people interact, the authenticity of its place and people resonated. From my waiter Friday night, a guy from South Boston who had me in tears I was laughing so hard, to the toll ticket takers on the way to and from the hotel, it felt like home again. And why does the food taste SO much better? Seriously. You trip over amazing restaurants in Boston. In DC it's needle in a haystack time. In Boston, we went out to eat all the time b/c it was SO FREAKIN GOOD. In DC, I go out to eat because I don't feel like cooking, but then, 8 times out of10, I realize I could have made whatever I'm eating better in my own kitchen. And THAT is saying something.
DC just disappoints me sometimes. In the section of the district and the surrounding areas that comprise my world, there's no real sense of place, history or people. No, clearly my life doesn't include the Shaw District and U Street. I know it's there, but in sections that don't and won't comprise my life.
I've always said that I can never recapture that awesome time in my life that was a certain year or two in Boston, primarily because some of my best friends have moved, so why go back. But I do have to wonder now .
The funny thing is, this is my third go round in DC. Internship in the summer between my junior and senior year, first job out of college and now. So my question is, do I keep coming back or do I keep leaving?
Wheels down at LaGuardia resulted in a heavy heart. It was so good to land in Boston. It was good to see my friends. Boston has always been home to me. Though I spent only 4 years there, my dad grew up and worked there later in life, and we always made frequent trips there when I was a kid. I feel a bit lost in Maine now, where I spent my childhood, because I'm one of those people who was "too good for home" and ran off to the big bad city. As much as I love Maine, I couldn't live there again. Further, if I could take one snapshot chapter of my life that was near perfect at any given time, it happened when I was living in Beantown. Granted, there was one glaring problem going on at the time, but the good definitely outweighed the bad.
So as I reconnected with some friends in the 24 hours I had there, I finally came to the realization that I am a Boston girl. The way people interact, the authenticity of its place and people resonated. From my waiter Friday night, a guy from South Boston who had me in tears I was laughing so hard, to the toll ticket takers on the way to and from the hotel, it felt like home again. And why does the food taste SO much better? Seriously. You trip over amazing restaurants in Boston. In DC it's needle in a haystack time. In Boston, we went out to eat all the time b/c it was SO FREAKIN GOOD. In DC, I go out to eat because I don't feel like cooking, but then, 8 times out of10, I realize I could have made whatever I'm eating better in my own kitchen. And THAT is saying something.
DC just disappoints me sometimes. In the section of the district and the surrounding areas that comprise my world, there's no real sense of place, history or people. No, clearly my life doesn't include the Shaw District and U Street. I know it's there, but in sections that don't and won't comprise my life.
I've always said that I can never recapture that awesome time in my life that was a certain year or two in Boston, primarily because some of my best friends have moved, so why go back. But I do have to wonder now .
The funny thing is, this is my third go round in DC. Internship in the summer between my junior and senior year, first job out of college and now. So my question is, do I keep coming back or do I keep leaving?
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Disturbed
I witnessed something this morning that made me so upset. Upset with myself and disappointed in those around me, even though they were complete strangers.
I got on the Metro this morning and, upon sitting for about 3 minutes, came to the realization that I had picked the lucky Metro car. There was an absolute LOONEY sitting two seats from me. She was so loud, screaming and cursing one minute, singing 90s R&B tunes the next, begging the woman across from me for her soda and begging God for her baby back. She made me so very nervous, not to mention everyone around me.
We all kept on our headphones, faces buried deep in our papers, doing our very best to ignore the woman. But when the young woman walked on with bottle of unopened soda, and the loud woman made a huge scene trying to snatch it from her, I couldn't have been more disappointed in myself and my fellow passengers. Every single one of us let her suffer alone - as the crazy woman made the situation more and more dangerous. The young woman ended up just giving her the bottle towards the end, but no one, not a single one of us, stepped up to help her through the confrontation. We all just sat back and thanked God it wasn't us.
This exchange also made me really consider how we treat the homeless and the mentally ill in the country. I couldn't get far enough away from this woman, pleading to be spared from her locked gaze. As angry as I was that no one helped the young woman, I became more and more angry that each and every one of us took a "Don't look and it will just go away" approach to the other.
I guess it's different in the city. You have to be extra careful. But if you could have just experienced the tension on that train today. Just made me think. What if I was the one who needed help?
I got on the Metro this morning and, upon sitting for about 3 minutes, came to the realization that I had picked the lucky Metro car. There was an absolute LOONEY sitting two seats from me. She was so loud, screaming and cursing one minute, singing 90s R&B tunes the next, begging the woman across from me for her soda and begging God for her baby back. She made me so very nervous, not to mention everyone around me.
We all kept on our headphones, faces buried deep in our papers, doing our very best to ignore the woman. But when the young woman walked on with bottle of unopened soda, and the loud woman made a huge scene trying to snatch it from her, I couldn't have been more disappointed in myself and my fellow passengers. Every single one of us let her suffer alone - as the crazy woman made the situation more and more dangerous. The young woman ended up just giving her the bottle towards the end, but no one, not a single one of us, stepped up to help her through the confrontation. We all just sat back and thanked God it wasn't us.
This exchange also made me really consider how we treat the homeless and the mentally ill in the country. I couldn't get far enough away from this woman, pleading to be spared from her locked gaze. As angry as I was that no one helped the young woman, I became more and more angry that each and every one of us took a "Don't look and it will just go away" approach to the other.
I guess it's different in the city. You have to be extra careful. But if you could have just experienced the tension on that train today. Just made me think. What if I was the one who needed help?
Not an ambi-turner
I've never been an expert in all things beauty.
I wax nothing. I bite my fingernails and only paint my toenails out of peer pressure in the summertime. I don't show cleavage, even though I've got plenty of it (high fives self). I really don't know what I'm doing when I put on makeup. I usually have multiple hairs out of place. I go 6 months without a haircut and don't think twice about it.
I have to leave for a work trip tomorrow, which meant I reluctantly made time at the very last minute for a haircut. My last one was in September. I don't know why I'm so lazy, or why I find $35-$40 to be such an extraordinary amount of money to spend on myself more frequently. Whatever the reason, it results in me getting a haircut during a time of desperation, and trying to come up with a game plan in the ten minutes it takes to get to the hair dresser from my apartment. Suddenly I start thinking about doing something drastic, just because.
I found myself in a similar dilemma today. Upon realizing I could leave work on time for the first time in, well, six months, I decided to make a hair appointment for tonight. I had no idea what I wanted them to do, I just knew I needed to be cleaned up a bit. Stupid public speaking.
I figured I'd have plenty of opportunity for inspiration during my 40 minute Metro ride from work to Pentagon City. I could people watch, look around and see if someone else's tresses might do me good as well.
Well, I did not find inspiration. Instead, I realized the truth behind something I'd been hearing about the DC area for a while, but never gave serious thought to. I come to you today with every assurance, however, that it's true:
DC is full of frumpy, unstylish women.
Again, I'm no fashionista. I have a lot to learn if I cared more. But it would appear this is a philosophy plaguing many throughout the DC Metro area.
I didn't find a single style that was fun or interesting. Most of us DC ladies have everything up in a claw clip by the time the commute home rolls around. But it went beyond that. No one had layers in their hair or trendy cuts.. every single woman in DC has the same straight, parted on the side hairstyle. I swear to God. And we can't dress. Period.
It made me sad. Sad that we've all kind of given up on ourselves, but also fascinated that I was so much more focused on my appearance in Boston. There's a city where you need to bring your A game 90% of the time. It's no NYC - a definite 100% of the time kind of town - but it's close. When I started my first job in Boston I looked around at my co-workers, and, upon realization that everyone looked like they belonged on Melrose Place, realized I had some work to do. Where did I come from at the time? Well, DC of course. It was time for a new wardrobe, new hair, you name it.
For what it's worth I got a decent cut and, per usual, got suckered into buying a $13 bottle of shampoo. My hair dresser said I could take three months this time before going back, but not six. I'll try to keep that in mind. If, for any other reason, than to help inspire my sisters on the Metro.
I wax nothing. I bite my fingernails and only paint my toenails out of peer pressure in the summertime. I don't show cleavage, even though I've got plenty of it (high fives self). I really don't know what I'm doing when I put on makeup. I usually have multiple hairs out of place. I go 6 months without a haircut and don't think twice about it.
I have to leave for a work trip tomorrow, which meant I reluctantly made time at the very last minute for a haircut. My last one was in September. I don't know why I'm so lazy, or why I find $35-$40 to be such an extraordinary amount of money to spend on myself more frequently. Whatever the reason, it results in me getting a haircut during a time of desperation, and trying to come up with a game plan in the ten minutes it takes to get to the hair dresser from my apartment. Suddenly I start thinking about doing something drastic, just because.
I found myself in a similar dilemma today. Upon realizing I could leave work on time for the first time in, well, six months, I decided to make a hair appointment for tonight. I had no idea what I wanted them to do, I just knew I needed to be cleaned up a bit. Stupid public speaking.
I figured I'd have plenty of opportunity for inspiration during my 40 minute Metro ride from work to Pentagon City. I could people watch, look around and see if someone else's tresses might do me good as well.
Well, I did not find inspiration. Instead, I realized the truth behind something I'd been hearing about the DC area for a while, but never gave serious thought to. I come to you today with every assurance, however, that it's true:
DC is full of frumpy, unstylish women.
Again, I'm no fashionista. I have a lot to learn if I cared more. But it would appear this is a philosophy plaguing many throughout the DC Metro area.
I didn't find a single style that was fun or interesting. Most of us DC ladies have everything up in a claw clip by the time the commute home rolls around. But it went beyond that. No one had layers in their hair or trendy cuts.. every single woman in DC has the same straight, parted on the side hairstyle. I swear to God. And we can't dress. Period.
It made me sad. Sad that we've all kind of given up on ourselves, but also fascinated that I was so much more focused on my appearance in Boston. There's a city where you need to bring your A game 90% of the time. It's no NYC - a definite 100% of the time kind of town - but it's close. When I started my first job in Boston I looked around at my co-workers, and, upon realization that everyone looked like they belonged on Melrose Place, realized I had some work to do. Where did I come from at the time? Well, DC of course. It was time for a new wardrobe, new hair, you name it.
For what it's worth I got a decent cut and, per usual, got suckered into buying a $13 bottle of shampoo. My hair dresser said I could take three months this time before going back, but not six. I'll try to keep that in mind. If, for any other reason, than to help inspire my sisters on the Metro.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Closing the book
Well, I hate to have to do this, but...
Sadie my lady joined her big sister in kitty heaven today. Sadie, also, had kidney failure and began to exhibit all of Sheba's symptoms immediately after my mother put Sheba down.
According to our vet, there's a 50% chance that cats over the age of 15 will have kidney failure. Further, it's not all that uncommon for elderly cats to die shortly after each other. So, while both of my cats were eating the food that has been recalled, he doesn't seem to think that was the factor.
I don't aim to make my blog as depressing as it has been, but I need to give deserved props to Sadie. Simply put, she was a riot. She exhibited a ton of personality, was always meowing her opinion on things, adored having the equivalent of her "armpits" scratched and, above all, was a truly fabulous boxer. She could take Rocky out in the first round, no problem. And I mean young Rocky. Not failed plastic surgery Rocky.
We should have known we were in for an adventure when we went to the shelter to pick out a kitten and Sadie was literally hanging from her cage. Where Sheba brought serenity, Sadie brought laughter.
My heart hurts for my mom tonight, who less than one week ago had two cats at home who'd been by her side for 16 and 17 years. My heart hurts knowing my girls were hurting and in a great deal of pain. My heart hurts knowing I didn't get to really say good-bye. And, most selfishly, my heart hurts knowing that the final piece of my childhood I had left is officially gone. I get it, I know I'm not a kid any more and haven't been for a long time. But it doesn't mean that's the way I wanted it to be.
So, again, keep my mom in your thoughts tonight. She's going home to a very lonely place tonight. But I know I speak for her when I say how grateful I am to have had so many years with two of the sweetest pets around.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Dancing with the Cliffs
I just started exercising again. My motivation is pretty lame. My boyfriend had been in a Biggest Loser contest with his friends and I'm fast becoming the bigger of the two of us. Secondly, and perhaps most influentially, there's a chance I might spend part of my summer vacation with his best friend and his best friend's wife... she's about 5'3" and tipping the scales at 100 lbs soaking wet. Do I really need to be seen in a bathing suit next to this woman? Probably not.
So I'm just sitting here, still sore from my run on Saturday and my ass completely kicked by the kickboxing DVD my roommate put on tonight. There was a time span of about 25 minutes this evening, once it was all over, when I honestly wondered if I would walk again.
The good news, however, and the point of my entire blog, is that Dancing with the Stars is back! So I'm just easing the pain on the couch, watching a couple of D lists stars foxtrot to The Power of Love by Huey Lewis and the News. Does life get any better? This show really is one of my guiltiest pleasures, and so far I'm really rooting for... John Ratzenberger.
That's right. Cliff Clavin from Cheers! Not only did he not completely humiliate himself on national TV tonight (he's got a solid spring in his step for an old guy), but my roommate reminded me he hit on her in a bar in Boston once. You've got to admire a man who played a dimwitted pathetic mailman on TV still trying to work his faded celebrity charm on women 3 times younger than him. The same evening he told her friends he was an FBI agent and they bought it. I dig salty older guys.
Neither snow, sleet or rain will prevent Cliff from delivering a win! Go for the gold John! And don't forget to trip Heather Mills during the group dance.
So I'm just sitting here, still sore from my run on Saturday and my ass completely kicked by the kickboxing DVD my roommate put on tonight. There was a time span of about 25 minutes this evening, once it was all over, when I honestly wondered if I would walk again.
The good news, however, and the point of my entire blog, is that Dancing with the Stars is back! So I'm just easing the pain on the couch, watching a couple of D lists stars foxtrot to The Power of Love by Huey Lewis and the News. Does life get any better? This show really is one of my guiltiest pleasures, and so far I'm really rooting for... John Ratzenberger.
That's right. Cliff Clavin from Cheers! Not only did he not completely humiliate himself on national TV tonight (he's got a solid spring in his step for an old guy), but my roommate reminded me he hit on her in a bar in Boston once. You've got to admire a man who played a dimwitted pathetic mailman on TV still trying to work his faded celebrity charm on women 3 times younger than him. The same evening he told her friends he was an FBI agent and they bought it. I dig salty older guys.
Neither snow, sleet or rain will prevent Cliff from delivering a win! Go for the gold John! And don't forget to trip Heather Mills during the group dance.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
An Open Book
I've always been a bit of an open book, an easy read, and all sorts of ways to describe someone incapable of keeping their own secrets. Others' secrets? No problem, my lips are sealed. But when it comes to my own? Not so much.
My mom called tonight to tell me our cat Sadie is sick. The timing is obviously not good (see a few blogs down). We were expecting her to be out of sorts without her big sister, but she's demonstrating all of the same symptoms Sheba was and it turns out the food they've been eating is the same that's been recently recalled for causing.. wait for it.. kidney failure. Granted, these cats are very old and we knew Sadie couldn't possibly last long without Sheba. But still...
Oddly, I'm not at all shocked. When my phone rang and I saw it was my mother, I knew this was what she was calling to say. I just feel horrible. I'm obviously sad, but kind of numb at the same time. I just don't know what to to do for my mother. She's going to try to take Sadie to the vet tomorrow, and I think we're all safe in assuming the worst. I've never been a believer that life is at all fair, but sometimes I am truly amazed at how much is thrown at any one of us at any given point in time. My mom's been through a lot, lately, so this is just such an enormous blow. What does she have to prove? What is this supposed to teach her? Is this supposed to inspire a change of some sort? What does it mean? Perhaps nothing, but occurrences like these tend to give me great pause.
So, please keep my Mom in your thoughts tonight, and of course , Sadie my lady. It's much appreciated.
My mom called tonight to tell me our cat Sadie is sick. The timing is obviously not good (see a few blogs down). We were expecting her to be out of sorts without her big sister, but she's demonstrating all of the same symptoms Sheba was and it turns out the food they've been eating is the same that's been recently recalled for causing.. wait for it.. kidney failure. Granted, these cats are very old and we knew Sadie couldn't possibly last long without Sheba. But still...
Oddly, I'm not at all shocked. When my phone rang and I saw it was my mother, I knew this was what she was calling to say. I just feel horrible. I'm obviously sad, but kind of numb at the same time. I just don't know what to to do for my mother. She's going to try to take Sadie to the vet tomorrow, and I think we're all safe in assuming the worst. I've never been a believer that life is at all fair, but sometimes I am truly amazed at how much is thrown at any one of us at any given point in time. My mom's been through a lot, lately, so this is just such an enormous blow. What does she have to prove? What is this supposed to teach her? Is this supposed to inspire a change of some sort? What does it mean? Perhaps nothing, but occurrences like these tend to give me great pause.
So, please keep my Mom in your thoughts tonight, and of course , Sadie my lady. It's much appreciated.
Riddle me this...
I did something today I haven't done in many, many years. I spent about 5 hours working on a puzzle.
My roommate was working on one a couple of weeks ago, during a marathon work weekend for me, and I remember watching her with envy. It just looked like such a fun and thoughtful way to spend some time. So, upon realization there was little that could possibly inspire me to get off of my duff this morning, today was the day I dragged my boyfriend to Target to find the perfect puzzle.
It's such a fantastic way to spend a Sunday afternoon! Though it does make me feel really really old. I was never much into board games and puzzles growing up but lately they've become a favorite past time. Why go to the bar when you can spend hours playing Risk? Right... Add to that the fact that I spent St. Patrick's Night doing a wine tasting at a friend's house instead of drinking green beer in a bar and I guess I'll just switch on some Matlock while sipping on prune juice.
Anyway, I recommend you reconnect with your puzzle persona if you haven't in a while. And as for the wine tasting, as we were smelling the wine to pinpoint its aroma, someone said they smelled pizza and I completely agreed. Maybe I'm not that old after all.
My roommate was working on one a couple of weeks ago, during a marathon work weekend for me, and I remember watching her with envy. It just looked like such a fun and thoughtful way to spend some time. So, upon realization there was little that could possibly inspire me to get off of my duff this morning, today was the day I dragged my boyfriend to Target to find the perfect puzzle.
It's such a fantastic way to spend a Sunday afternoon! Though it does make me feel really really old. I was never much into board games and puzzles growing up but lately they've become a favorite past time. Why go to the bar when you can spend hours playing Risk? Right... Add to that the fact that I spent St. Patrick's Night doing a wine tasting at a friend's house instead of drinking green beer in a bar and I guess I'll just switch on some Matlock while sipping on prune juice.
Anyway, I recommend you reconnect with your puzzle persona if you haven't in a while. And as for the wine tasting, as we were smelling the wine to pinpoint its aroma, someone said they smelled pizza and I completely agreed. Maybe I'm not that old after all.
Girls Next Door
I can't believe I'm typing this, but I'm writing to confess I'm a fan of the TV show The Girls Next Door.
This is so unlike me I simply can't understand it. I'm not a big fan of the Playboy franchise, though I must say Hugh Hefner is more endearing now that he's just plain old and seems to be more sweet than sketchy. Still, I've never really had the healthiest attitude about his business as I think it lends itself to worsening a number of social problems. You don't have to agree, just respect it and we'll be just fine. It's a topic that makes me angry in general, and not one I'm able to laugh off all that much. It's an theme for another blog. Since, in general, I'm trying to keep my stress level down this time of year, today won't be the day to get into it. But I digress..
So, despite this all, I am fixated on this show. And it's not out of ridicule, I swear. Of Hef's three girlfriends, there's only one I want to throw into traffic on a regular basis (Kendra), and I find the other two kind of, well, sweet. Holly's my favorite, in fact I have a ton of empathy for her for reasons I've yet to be able to truly detect. And Bridget, well, she's just kind of ridiculous but simultaneously harmless so I find her entertaining.
Anyway, tonight's episode has the team celebrating Holly's birthday with a Marie Antoinette theme. Everyone is decked out in costume (who knew they wore smoking jackets just like the one Hef wears every day?!). In an effort to please Kendra, Holly has purchased a dress for her in San Diego Chargers colors. It's also known as Snow White's dress. Experiencing her horror has been a tremendous ending note to my weekend. She didn't wear it, by the way. How tacky is that? I'd wear a Snow White dress if someone sent me one. Geesh. It is HER birthday and it's not like it's irrelevant.
Sadly, however, I have come to the realization that I am no longer the coolest girlfriend on the face of the earth. E! held a contest for someone to come to the mansion to take in Holly's party and the woman who won brought her boyfriend.. to the Playboy mansion. Let's all get in line to smack the crap out of her.
This is so unlike me I simply can't understand it. I'm not a big fan of the Playboy franchise, though I must say Hugh Hefner is more endearing now that he's just plain old and seems to be more sweet than sketchy. Still, I've never really had the healthiest attitude about his business as I think it lends itself to worsening a number of social problems. You don't have to agree, just respect it and we'll be just fine. It's a topic that makes me angry in general, and not one I'm able to laugh off all that much. It's an theme for another blog. Since, in general, I'm trying to keep my stress level down this time of year, today won't be the day to get into it. But I digress..
So, despite this all, I am fixated on this show. And it's not out of ridicule, I swear. Of Hef's three girlfriends, there's only one I want to throw into traffic on a regular basis (Kendra), and I find the other two kind of, well, sweet. Holly's my favorite, in fact I have a ton of empathy for her for reasons I've yet to be able to truly detect. And Bridget, well, she's just kind of ridiculous but simultaneously harmless so I find her entertaining.
Anyway, tonight's episode has the team celebrating Holly's birthday with a Marie Antoinette theme. Everyone is decked out in costume (who knew they wore smoking jackets just like the one Hef wears every day?!). In an effort to please Kendra, Holly has purchased a dress for her in San Diego Chargers colors. It's also known as Snow White's dress. Experiencing her horror has been a tremendous ending note to my weekend. She didn't wear it, by the way. How tacky is that? I'd wear a Snow White dress if someone sent me one. Geesh. It is HER birthday and it's not like it's irrelevant.
Sadly, however, I have come to the realization that I am no longer the coolest girlfriend on the face of the earth. E! held a contest for someone to come to the mansion to take in Holly's party and the woman who won brought her boyfriend.. to the Playboy mansion. Let's all get in line to smack the crap out of her.
Friday, March 16, 2007
The Holiday
Today was a rough day and concluded a bit of a rough week. The weather here also completely freaked out, and in one day went from sunny and 70s to ice falling from the sky. It was cold and pouring rain, ice, sleet, name your precipitation by this afternoon. There was nothing I was more excited about than coming home, getting into my sweats, ordering Chinese food and watching The Holiday, courtesy of my good friends at Netflix.
General disclaimer: I am slightly in love with Kate Winslet and confess that when Jack Black isn't 'playing a character living on a very extreme spectrum, I find him kind of adorable. I also completely loathe Cameron Diaz and Jude Law. Hence, balance.
I could not have been more disappointed with this movie. It reminded me of a story I might mapped out for my Barbie dolls back in the day. It was cliched, formulaic, poorly written, underdeveloped and not at all interesting. I did learn a new skill that I did not know I possess, however, and that is the ability to fall asleep during the Cameron Diaz/Jude Law scenes of a motion picture and wake up just as they are ending. It was awesome. Sadly, it didn't happen for every scene, but it happened enough for me to be fairly impressed with myself.
I could spend a lot more time talking about the movie's specific flaws, but the above paragraph really does sum it all up. Don't waste your time with it. The only truly interesting part of the movie was a minor subplot about an aging screenwriter that would have made for a much better movie as a whole. Further, the talent wasted in this film is difficult to understand. I'm convinced there were some major favors cashed in with the casting. "Sure, Kate, we'll cast you in Titanic, but only if... " type thing. Sadly, I doubt the same can be said for the producer of the movie, who is very much connected to my place of employment. Sigh. Oh, but just seeing Kate have to play air guitar upon waking up to the first day of her vacation was enough to make me cringe. It hurts to think about.
The movie does continue to feed my fascination with the talented minds who put together movie previews. This may be one of the coolest jobs in the world. Whoever put together the trailer for The Holiday has mad skills, as it appeared to be a fairly clever and engaging movie in the preview (on a relative chick flick scale, of course). Alas, 'twas not the case and I was completely hosed.
Hard to beat last weekend's back to back movie successes with Stranger than Fiction and Black Snake Moan. Please focus your energies on one of these two if you're inclined towards film going this weekend.
General disclaimer: I am slightly in love with Kate Winslet and confess that when Jack Black isn't 'playing a character living on a very extreme spectrum, I find him kind of adorable. I also completely loathe Cameron Diaz and Jude Law. Hence, balance.
I could not have been more disappointed with this movie. It reminded me of a story I might mapped out for my Barbie dolls back in the day. It was cliched, formulaic, poorly written, underdeveloped and not at all interesting. I did learn a new skill that I did not know I possess, however, and that is the ability to fall asleep during the Cameron Diaz/Jude Law scenes of a motion picture and wake up just as they are ending. It was awesome. Sadly, it didn't happen for every scene, but it happened enough for me to be fairly impressed with myself.
I could spend a lot more time talking about the movie's specific flaws, but the above paragraph really does sum it all up. Don't waste your time with it. The only truly interesting part of the movie was a minor subplot about an aging screenwriter that would have made for a much better movie as a whole. Further, the talent wasted in this film is difficult to understand. I'm convinced there were some major favors cashed in with the casting. "Sure, Kate, we'll cast you in Titanic, but only if... " type thing. Sadly, I doubt the same can be said for the producer of the movie, who is very much connected to my place of employment. Sigh. Oh, but just seeing Kate have to play air guitar upon waking up to the first day of her vacation was enough to make me cringe. It hurts to think about.
The movie does continue to feed my fascination with the talented minds who put together movie previews. This may be one of the coolest jobs in the world. Whoever put together the trailer for The Holiday has mad skills, as it appeared to be a fairly clever and engaging movie in the preview (on a relative chick flick scale, of course). Alas, 'twas not the case and I was completely hosed.
Hard to beat last weekend's back to back movie successes with Stranger than Fiction and Black Snake Moan. Please focus your energies on one of these two if you're inclined towards film going this weekend.
Sheba B
WARNING! WARNING! The contents of this blog are sappy, reflective, and not at all uplifting. If you don't love animals, just stop reading now. Seriously.
My very first pet, one of two cats I have back home in Maine, was put to sleep today upon discovery that she had kidney failure. She lived an extraordinary 17 years in which she was treated like a complete princess and was loved to absolute pieces by me, my parents, my other cat Sadie, and generally anyone who came into contact with her.
I remember how excited I was when I first brought her home. News that I could finally have a cat came when I was in middle school, shortly after my mom and her boyfriend of 7 years, who had a severe cat allergy, split up. One of those true, "Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out..." moments.. but I digress.
Anyway, my mom and I bickered over the name of this new creature and she insisted on Sheba. I thought it was way too grown up sounding, so I spent the majority of my days, up until I left for college, coming up with ways to make her name more hip. Sheba B was a personal favorite. Kind of like Sheila E, only without the drum skills and fingerless gloves.
Sheba was the typical cat, could be very lovey but only on her own terms. She was also a bit of a flirt, preferring the company of men to women. She absolutely doted on my father and generally any man who entered the living room while happily ignoring any estrogen carriers. Such a saucy minx.
So, my heart is a wee heavy this evening. As sad as I am, I'm worried more about my mom, who has been with her regularly throughout the last 17 years, where I was only a constant for about 8. I'm also worried about Sadie, our other cat, who has not known life without her big sister and is only a year younger. I can't imagine this will settle too well with her at all. Overall, I've held up OK today, knowing she's not in pain anymore and is in "a better place". I did get a bit teary when a colleague brought his dog into the office today, and when I came home from work to find my roommate's cat waiting to greet me. How could I not?
The really strange thing is when I left home after Christmas this year, I remembered thinking it was the last time I might see Sheba. I remember calling for her right before I left, but she wouldn't come out, so I reluctantly walked out the door. Kind of makes you think. Nevertheless, I still have very vivid memories of my last visit with her, propping her on my bent legs so her paws hung over my knees, in our favorite TV watching position, and sneaking her pieces of shrimp from Christmas Eve dinner. What can I say, I always had her back.
Sleep easy, Sheba B. Love you lots.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Bracket fever
Like the vast majority of people I know, I am in at least one March Madness Tourney Bracket. I haven't followed men's college basketball since Christian Laettner and Grant Hill played for Duke (double meow), but I can still get into tourney time... plus I like filling out things.
Slate.com has a very interesting article about 'bracketing everything', as in prioritizing the unforgettable moments of the last 100 years, the best death scenes in film, etc. It all seems to be a ploy to push a book about the same subject, but they give some sample brackets for giggles at the bottom of the article for you to fill out.
http://www.slate.com/id/2161655?GT1=9231
Well, I'm only into the second round of the "Where Were You When" moments bracket, and I've got Dale Earnhardt's death at Daytona going head to head with 9/11. Um. Yah. Just thought I'd share. Then again, I picked his death over the launch of Sputnik. So maybe the greater problem lies with me. and this is Slate's not so subtle way of highlighting my feeble mind. Then again, my mom was barely born circa Sputnik, so no, the event is not seared in my memory as I was not even a zygote. So, fault lies back with Slate. Yikes.
Slate.com has a very interesting article about 'bracketing everything', as in prioritizing the unforgettable moments of the last 100 years, the best death scenes in film, etc. It all seems to be a ploy to push a book about the same subject, but they give some sample brackets for giggles at the bottom of the article for you to fill out.
http://www.slate.com/id/2161655?GT1=9231
Well, I'm only into the second round of the "Where Were You When" moments bracket, and I've got Dale Earnhardt's death at Daytona going head to head with 9/11. Um. Yah. Just thought I'd share. Then again, I picked his death over the launch of Sputnik. So maybe the greater problem lies with me. and this is Slate's not so subtle way of highlighting my feeble mind. Then again, my mom was barely born circa Sputnik, so no, the event is not seared in my memory as I was not even a zygote. So, fault lies back with Slate. Yikes.
Great things about today...
1) Glorious 70 degree weather and not needing my jacket for the walk home
2) Getting a hilarious and unexpected e-mail at work from a friend
3) Celebrating the announcement of a colleague's hard-earned, well-deserved promotion
4) The continued celebration of the announcement that another colleague is having a baby
5) Riding the Metro with a Moby-look-a-like and resisting the urge to sing a duet of "Eastside"
6) Caesar lite salad for dinner - welcome to the world of my random cravings
7) Simon laughing at Paula when she started crying during American Idol.
8) The fact that there is a woman on this earth even more emotionally whacked out than me.
2) Getting a hilarious and unexpected e-mail at work from a friend
3) Celebrating the announcement of a colleague's hard-earned, well-deserved promotion
4) The continued celebration of the announcement that another colleague is having a baby
5) Riding the Metro with a Moby-look-a-like and resisting the urge to sing a duet of "Eastside"
6) Caesar lite salad for dinner - welcome to the world of my random cravings
7) Simon laughing at Paula when she started crying during American Idol.
8) The fact that there is a woman on this earth even more emotionally whacked out than me.
Jeep-ishness
I have a little fantasy that was passed down from my mom. Owning a Jeep Wrangler soft top, road tripping on an amazing summer day, wind in my hair, sunglasses on and radio blasting.
Nevertheless, Jeep has lost my respect over the years. It's this odd little obsession I have. Perhaps it's because it was the car of choice for my privileged classmates at Colgate. You would have thought we had corporate sponsorship. In fact, I specifically remember when they revamped the Grand Cherokee when I was in college so it looked more like a Land Rover or a Range Rover. Gone were the sleek curves that made it stand out in the world of SUVs (curves that Lexus and others would later adopt in my compact SUVs). Instead, they began to look like boxes.
Today I was treated to the imitation Hummer Jeep Cherokee. Why. Seriously. Why. OK, in all fairness, it appears to be a copycat of the less absurd H2. Still, why would you want to model yourself after the most ridiculous vehicle out there? I get the trying to appeal to a clientele with more money to burn, I get trying to adapt to trends. Nevertheless, do you remember that you were the ORIGINAL military vehicle? Niche, anyone? Is there a not dueling market out there? Retro military vs. new military? Don't Wrangler drivers opt for the jungle fatigues while the Hummer drivers sport the urban fatigues?
I simply loathe the corporate inferiority complex. If you can't be proud of your product, what it has to offer and why it's unique, why even bother putting it out.
As an aside, I feel the same way about universities. But that's another blog.
Nevertheless, Jeep has lost my respect over the years. It's this odd little obsession I have. Perhaps it's because it was the car of choice for my privileged classmates at Colgate. You would have thought we had corporate sponsorship. In fact, I specifically remember when they revamped the Grand Cherokee when I was in college so it looked more like a Land Rover or a Range Rover. Gone were the sleek curves that made it stand out in the world of SUVs (curves that Lexus and others would later adopt in my compact SUVs). Instead, they began to look like boxes.
Today I was treated to the imitation Hummer Jeep Cherokee. Why. Seriously. Why. OK, in all fairness, it appears to be a copycat of the less absurd H2. Still, why would you want to model yourself after the most ridiculous vehicle out there? I get the trying to appeal to a clientele with more money to burn, I get trying to adapt to trends. Nevertheless, do you remember that you were the ORIGINAL military vehicle? Niche, anyone? Is there a not dueling market out there? Retro military vs. new military? Don't Wrangler drivers opt for the jungle fatigues while the Hummer drivers sport the urban fatigues?
I simply loathe the corporate inferiority complex. If you can't be proud of your product, what it has to offer and why it's unique, why even bother putting it out.
As an aside, I feel the same way about universities. But that's another blog.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Insert Caveman Grunt
It's amazing how much satisfaction I derive from completing the simplest household task. No, I don't mean cleaning or decorating, per se, I mean tasks that require purchases at Best Buy or the hardware store. I'm a hot mess when it comes to most of this stuff. I have singlehandedly plugged more gaping holes into the walls of my apartment in a pathetic attempt to put up shelves or pictures than you could ever pay me to admit. Those who've witnessed the horror are never the same. And yes, I've tried to fill the holes in with toothpaste. Simply put, I'm a bit of a hazard to home improvement.
So I'm sitting here with a tremendous amount of satisfaction after installing a cable splitter and running cable into my bedroom from the living room. Yah, it looks awful, but what of it. I put a splitter in.. without reading instructions. Laugh if you will, but this is all I can handle so the fact that I even bought the right thing and the right amount of cable is victory enough. I definitely stared at a wall containing a variety of these devices for a good seven minutes, even though I was certain only one had the possibility of working (I need it to split more than two ways.. there's only one on the wall that does this), because I was still convinced I would get it wrong. Then I stood there and considered the necessary length to wrap around my the living room wall to my bedroom. 25 feet or 50 feet? Well, how many of me would it take to wrap around the living room to my bedroom. I actually stood there and thought about that.
For what it's worth, I do wish I was more handy. I'm not trying to be a helpless chick. This is just one area where my weaknesses outweigh my strengths. Then again, when you have my irresistible personality and drop dead gorgeous looks, it's only fair to have a fault here and there.
Oh crikey. It's only fair that I tell you this. Just as I was about to hit submit, we switched from a DVD we were watching to our living room cable, only to have no picture. My roommate had to fix it. Effing Bloody Hell.
So I'm sitting here with a tremendous amount of satisfaction after installing a cable splitter and running cable into my bedroom from the living room. Yah, it looks awful, but what of it. I put a splitter in.. without reading instructions. Laugh if you will, but this is all I can handle so the fact that I even bought the right thing and the right amount of cable is victory enough. I definitely stared at a wall containing a variety of these devices for a good seven minutes, even though I was certain only one had the possibility of working (I need it to split more than two ways.. there's only one on the wall that does this), because I was still convinced I would get it wrong. Then I stood there and considered the necessary length to wrap around my the living room wall to my bedroom. 25 feet or 50 feet? Well, how many of me would it take to wrap around the living room to my bedroom. I actually stood there and thought about that.
For what it's worth, I do wish I was more handy. I'm not trying to be a helpless chick. This is just one area where my weaknesses outweigh my strengths. Then again, when you have my irresistible personality and drop dead gorgeous looks, it's only fair to have a fault here and there.
Oh crikey. It's only fair that I tell you this. Just as I was about to hit submit, we switched from a DVD we were watching to our living room cable, only to have no picture. My roommate had to fix it. Effing Bloody Hell.
The gift of today
It's amazing how one e-mail can completely change you. How one simple, unexpected hello can have you floating on air.
Out of nowhere, today I received an e-mail from my favorite professor at Colgate. She was my advisor and the person who inspired me to be an English major. I enrolled at Colgate as a Political Science major, not really sure why, but I had always liked government and history, did things like Girls State, and was part of a family who always seemed active in local politics and state government. So, why not? Anyway, Professor Wider taught one of my General Core requirement classes, The Challenge of Modernity, and I remember her class was the only one my freshman year that really allowed me to feel at home.
I remember I struggled through so much of my freshman year. I had never experienced the academic rigor of a place like 'Gate, nor had I ever shared a classroom with so many bright and articulate students (no offense to the '96 grads of CHS). Her teaching approach was a breath of fresh air. She was someone who was stirred by the unconventional, who craved discussion and whose approaches to learning and instruction were quite, well, unrestricted. A lot of my classmates throughout my four years had little patience for her classroom manner, and thought of her as almost flighty, but I simply adored it. I honestly do fine in any type of classroom structure, so I didn't need her somewhat hippie ways, I just admired them. Most of all, however, Sarah taught me not only HOW to think about literature, but WHY to think about it. She honestly valued every word I uttered, and helped me to develop the confidence to realize that I had an important and educated voice to share. She taught me to love the interconnectedness of things, and we would spend all sorts of time together, over coffee, discussing a paragraph, a page, a line, an inspiration.. it was just great. I would babysit her little girl, who is now 11 (GASP) and was treated to home cooked meals and impromptu cello performances.
Anyway, her e-mail has me longing for a different time.. when my thoughts were consumed with the relationship between Monet and Thoreau and not bureaucratic matters, but such is the price of growing up I guess. All I know is when she said she was teaching a particular course I took from her this term and how she wished I was in it, I couldn't help but feel so completely honored. I was definitely given a gift today with the simple moment she took to say hello, and I couldn't be happier.
Out of nowhere, today I received an e-mail from my favorite professor at Colgate. She was my advisor and the person who inspired me to be an English major. I enrolled at Colgate as a Political Science major, not really sure why, but I had always liked government and history, did things like Girls State, and was part of a family who always seemed active in local politics and state government. So, why not? Anyway, Professor Wider taught one of my General Core requirement classes, The Challenge of Modernity, and I remember her class was the only one my freshman year that really allowed me to feel at home.
I remember I struggled through so much of my freshman year. I had never experienced the academic rigor of a place like 'Gate, nor had I ever shared a classroom with so many bright and articulate students (no offense to the '96 grads of CHS). Her teaching approach was a breath of fresh air. She was someone who was stirred by the unconventional, who craved discussion and whose approaches to learning and instruction were quite, well, unrestricted. A lot of my classmates throughout my four years had little patience for her classroom manner, and thought of her as almost flighty, but I simply adored it. I honestly do fine in any type of classroom structure, so I didn't need her somewhat hippie ways, I just admired them. Most of all, however, Sarah taught me not only HOW to think about literature, but WHY to think about it. She honestly valued every word I uttered, and helped me to develop the confidence to realize that I had an important and educated voice to share. She taught me to love the interconnectedness of things, and we would spend all sorts of time together, over coffee, discussing a paragraph, a page, a line, an inspiration.. it was just great. I would babysit her little girl, who is now 11 (GASP) and was treated to home cooked meals and impromptu cello performances.
Anyway, her e-mail has me longing for a different time.. when my thoughts were consumed with the relationship between Monet and Thoreau and not bureaucratic matters, but such is the price of growing up I guess. All I know is when she said she was teaching a particular course I took from her this term and how she wished I was in it, I couldn't help but feel so completely honored. I was definitely given a gift today with the simple moment she took to say hello, and I couldn't be happier.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Back among the 3-Dimensional People
It's official. I have a life again.
This was the first weekend that I had real plans with friends in a very long time. Consequently, I feel the need to give you every dirty detail. Work is still busy, but altering in terms of its nature. So, while I'll start traveling again very soon, the number of nights burning the midnight oil and bringing work home should change dramatically. As such, I'm milking it for all its worth.
We were treated to fantastic weather this weekend, so for those of us with the winter blues, the promise of spring has arrived. Not quite sure how I'll cope if the temps dip again but I'm completely loving the fact that this weekend was in the 50s and the next few days promise 60s and, dare I say it, 70s?! It really does so much to change my attitude.
I saw some fantastic movies this weekend. Netflix delivered Stranger Than Fiction, which I cannot recommend enough. Some of the best writing I have seen on screen in a very long time - both in terms of originality of story, dialogue and overall plot. The acting was superb, and I would argue that Dustin Hoffman, in particular, was robbed of an Academy Award nomination. Will Ferrell never gets enough credit for his range - not that he has done a lot to demonstrate it but this film proved how effective he can still be when playing a more subdued role. The directing is strong as is the cinematography. If you see it, pay close attention to vertical lines in the movie. Fascinating. One of my favorite movies I have seen in a long while. Plus, I had the pleasure of watching it with some of my boyfriend's work friends, in this one couple's wonderfully comforting home, which only reminded me how much atmosphere lends itself to a sense of calm and ability to just relax and, well, be yourself. If only I could afford one for myself.
I also saw Black Snake Moan. Upon seeing the preview, I really wasn't sure what to do with the whole "woman chained up in a man's house in little more than her panties" bit, but I can assure you the preview tells a very different story from the film itself. I only agreed to see it after a friend who is much more conservative than I highly recommended it. It really is a good movie, and handles some taboo topics in a very upfront and honest manner. I probably don't need to see it again, but it did inspire a) a renewed fascination with Christina Ricci's script choices and longevity and b) a continued confusion as to why anyone thinks Justin Timberlake is a sex symbol. Oh well. There were some forced aspects to the film in terms of a secondary plot love story, and I did struggle with the true nastiness of a number of the film's characters, but the positives of the movie definitely outweigh the negatives. Further, I'm always excited about creative ways of using music to move a film along and serve to further develop characters. So, definitely see it, though it's a sufficient rental to be sure.
In what was probably the most random activity of the weekend, I played Risk for the first time in my life. Let's face it, a female only child really has no reason to ever play Risk growing up. But, the group I was with (yes, all guys) became nostalgic and I was treated to my first ever Risk battle. In a classic example of my famous beginner's luck, I actually won (kind of - it's a long and incredibly boring story). But the game took, oh, 5 hours. We started at 9 and ended just as we sprung forward so, really, it took 6 hours. Still, I've become such a fan of board games in the last few years and, oddly enough, had a blast playing this "boy game". Now I'm craving a game night of Scattergories, Cranium and Scene It? Any takers?
Today I had brunch with a dear friend and we went for a long walk afterward, dessert-like coffees in hand (hooray for Caribou Coffee!). Then, I came home and took a truly glorious nap in my brand new living room! No, no While You Were Out or Extreme Home Makeover for me. Let me explain. I came home today to find that my roommate had completely rearranged the furniture in our living room. We'd talked about this set up before but laziness and the fear of a cord going across the floor seemed to get in the way. But, a wave of boredom hit her so she tried it out. Cord be damned, it looks SO much better. I feel like I have a new apartment and suddenly want to have people over to take it all in. It's amazing how the little changes to your everyday can be so totally inspiring. We then cooked a delicious dinner and we're sitting here with Braveheart on in the background, in our PJ's and relishing with our post-dinner bellies. It's just fantastic. There are also frozen eclairs (SmartOne brand, never fear) thawing for us on the kitchen counter. HUZZAH!
So, I'm thankful for having such a tremendous weekend. Again, nothing particularly profound about it, but lots of staying up late, sleeping in, soaking up the sun and spending time with people I care about. It really doesn't get much better.
This was the first weekend that I had real plans with friends in a very long time. Consequently, I feel the need to give you every dirty detail. Work is still busy, but altering in terms of its nature. So, while I'll start traveling again very soon, the number of nights burning the midnight oil and bringing work home should change dramatically. As such, I'm milking it for all its worth.
We were treated to fantastic weather this weekend, so for those of us with the winter blues, the promise of spring has arrived. Not quite sure how I'll cope if the temps dip again but I'm completely loving the fact that this weekend was in the 50s and the next few days promise 60s and, dare I say it, 70s?! It really does so much to change my attitude.
I saw some fantastic movies this weekend. Netflix delivered Stranger Than Fiction, which I cannot recommend enough. Some of the best writing I have seen on screen in a very long time - both in terms of originality of story, dialogue and overall plot. The acting was superb, and I would argue that Dustin Hoffman, in particular, was robbed of an Academy Award nomination. Will Ferrell never gets enough credit for his range - not that he has done a lot to demonstrate it but this film proved how effective he can still be when playing a more subdued role. The directing is strong as is the cinematography. If you see it, pay close attention to vertical lines in the movie. Fascinating. One of my favorite movies I have seen in a long while. Plus, I had the pleasure of watching it with some of my boyfriend's work friends, in this one couple's wonderfully comforting home, which only reminded me how much atmosphere lends itself to a sense of calm and ability to just relax and, well, be yourself. If only I could afford one for myself.
I also saw Black Snake Moan. Upon seeing the preview, I really wasn't sure what to do with the whole "woman chained up in a man's house in little more than her panties" bit, but I can assure you the preview tells a very different story from the film itself. I only agreed to see it after a friend who is much more conservative than I highly recommended it. It really is a good movie, and handles some taboo topics in a very upfront and honest manner. I probably don't need to see it again, but it did inspire a) a renewed fascination with Christina Ricci's script choices and longevity and b) a continued confusion as to why anyone thinks Justin Timberlake is a sex symbol. Oh well. There were some forced aspects to the film in terms of a secondary plot love story, and I did struggle with the true nastiness of a number of the film's characters, but the positives of the movie definitely outweigh the negatives. Further, I'm always excited about creative ways of using music to move a film along and serve to further develop characters. So, definitely see it, though it's a sufficient rental to be sure.
In what was probably the most random activity of the weekend, I played Risk for the first time in my life. Let's face it, a female only child really has no reason to ever play Risk growing up. But, the group I was with (yes, all guys) became nostalgic and I was treated to my first ever Risk battle. In a classic example of my famous beginner's luck, I actually won (kind of - it's a long and incredibly boring story). But the game took, oh, 5 hours. We started at 9 and ended just as we sprung forward so, really, it took 6 hours. Still, I've become such a fan of board games in the last few years and, oddly enough, had a blast playing this "boy game". Now I'm craving a game night of Scattergories, Cranium and Scene It? Any takers?
Today I had brunch with a dear friend and we went for a long walk afterward, dessert-like coffees in hand (hooray for Caribou Coffee!). Then, I came home and took a truly glorious nap in my brand new living room! No, no While You Were Out or Extreme Home Makeover for me. Let me explain. I came home today to find that my roommate had completely rearranged the furniture in our living room. We'd talked about this set up before but laziness and the fear of a cord going across the floor seemed to get in the way. But, a wave of boredom hit her so she tried it out. Cord be damned, it looks SO much better. I feel like I have a new apartment and suddenly want to have people over to take it all in. It's amazing how the little changes to your everyday can be so totally inspiring. We then cooked a delicious dinner and we're sitting here with Braveheart on in the background, in our PJ's and relishing with our post-dinner bellies. It's just fantastic. There are also frozen eclairs (SmartOne brand, never fear) thawing for us on the kitchen counter. HUZZAH!
So, I'm thankful for having such a tremendous weekend. Again, nothing particularly profound about it, but lots of staying up late, sleeping in, soaking up the sun and spending time with people I care about. It really doesn't get much better.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Winter Wonderland
Dare I say that DC is actually having a legit winter?
Don't get me wrong, days in the single digits with wind chill are more than balanced by days in the 40s, but compared to the other two winters I've had here, this has most certainly been the coldest and snowiest. It snowed AGAIN today (is that three or four "storms" now?) and, consequently, a program I was supposed to do ended up getting cancelled, which sent me into leaps of jubilation and a potential sexual harassment claim when I thought about hugging the staff member who passed the message onto me. Granted, I still ended up doing work, but this time in sweatpants, a vat of Coke Zero by my side and Idol on in the background. Hooray.
It was one of those mornings where you went outside and the wind made your face hurt. As I climbed the escalator emerging from the Metro, I had yet another fantasy about wearing sundresses and flip flops. You'd think I was having a lurid love affair with Old Navy given how often this has happened to me lately. I simply cannot wait for spring! I'm also heavily focused on my week in California around mid April... Mother Nature don't fail me now.
Don't get me wrong, days in the single digits with wind chill are more than balanced by days in the 40s, but compared to the other two winters I've had here, this has most certainly been the coldest and snowiest. It snowed AGAIN today (is that three or four "storms" now?) and, consequently, a program I was supposed to do ended up getting cancelled, which sent me into leaps of jubilation and a potential sexual harassment claim when I thought about hugging the staff member who passed the message onto me. Granted, I still ended up doing work, but this time in sweatpants, a vat of Coke Zero by my side and Idol on in the background. Hooray.
It was one of those mornings where you went outside and the wind made your face hurt. As I climbed the escalator emerging from the Metro, I had yet another fantasy about wearing sundresses and flip flops. You'd think I was having a lurid love affair with Old Navy given how often this has happened to me lately. I simply cannot wait for spring! I'm also heavily focused on my week in California around mid April... Mother Nature don't fail me now.
Now if you could just try on this lipstick...
I just want to say, for the record, that I am opposed to the apparent intention of the American Idol producers to make Sanjaya Malakar look like his sister (Shyamali - booted in Hollywood group rounds) now that they've discovered he can't actually sing after all. The straightened layered look from last night's show had me doing double takes throughout most of his performance. Kind of had a Seacrest's girlfriend thing going on that was creeping me out a bit.
And the hula video? That just ain't right.
And the hula video? That just ain't right.
How to save a life...
I try not to nag people. (Waits patiently as certain people who read this blog spit out their beverage.) Seriously. I'm not interested in being your mom. I only nag when I'm truly worried about someone. Fine, don't hang up your towel, but don't forget to take care of yourself, kind of thing.
I've been nagging my boss all week because I've been truly worried about her. And I have to pat myself on the back for my timing, because just as I was recovering from my own little freak out she entered into hers. There were tears, and I suddenly felt OK about everything I was going through last week. After all, she's got 30 more years experience than I, not to mention a PhD, so I'm feeling less like a freak and more like a, gulp, boss. Well, an accountable boss in a high pressure situation anyway. Don't worry, I know it's still not normal, but at least I'm not completely out of my mind.
Anyway, last week she mentioned in passing she was having chest pains. "Nothing constant, just once in a while." Like that's supposed to make anyone feel better. So what started with a simple "Have you called your doctor, yet?" once a day turned, this week, into a "Did you do it yet?" every time I saw her. A truly patient woman, I could tell she started to get really irritated. But it wasn't enough to make her pick up the phone. Finally, today, I had to call in the big guns.
I mentioned the situation to the man I fondly think of as the office "dad". He's a father of four, a grandfather of seven, and was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Army and served tours in Vietnam. Once I told him what was going on , he returned to my office two minutes later to say she was on the phone making an appointment.
So, it paid to be a nag today. You have to look after the people who care SO much about what other people think that they sacrifice their own well being for the perceived well being of others. Hmm.. that doesn't sound familiar at all.
I did a very good thing today.
I've been nagging my boss all week because I've been truly worried about her. And I have to pat myself on the back for my timing, because just as I was recovering from my own little freak out she entered into hers. There were tears, and I suddenly felt OK about everything I was going through last week. After all, she's got 30 more years experience than I, not to mention a PhD, so I'm feeling less like a freak and more like a, gulp, boss. Well, an accountable boss in a high pressure situation anyway. Don't worry, I know it's still not normal, but at least I'm not completely out of my mind.
Anyway, last week she mentioned in passing she was having chest pains. "Nothing constant, just once in a while." Like that's supposed to make anyone feel better. So what started with a simple "Have you called your doctor, yet?" once a day turned, this week, into a "Did you do it yet?" every time I saw her. A truly patient woman, I could tell she started to get really irritated. But it wasn't enough to make her pick up the phone. Finally, today, I had to call in the big guns.
I mentioned the situation to the man I fondly think of as the office "dad". He's a father of four, a grandfather of seven, and was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Army and served tours in Vietnam. Once I told him what was going on , he returned to my office two minutes later to say she was on the phone making an appointment.
So, it paid to be a nag today. You have to look after the people who care SO much about what other people think that they sacrifice their own well being for the perceived well being of others. Hmm.. that doesn't sound familiar at all.
I did a very good thing today.
Monday, March 5, 2007
NBC flips us the bird
I was half-watching Heroes tonight while working on a project when, at the end of the show, right around the time the preview for next week's episode kicks in, I heard the following..
"When Heroes returns on April 23rd..."
Excuse me?
April 23 is a month and a half away. And we can't even blame this one on American Idol. (Oh how I long for thee Dr. House!) Suddenly good, or should I say "watchable" TV has turned into a Navy fleet.. docking not so regularly but just enough to come in and spice up your life for a week or two, only to disappear into oblivion.
Hmm.. maybe that was a bad analogy.
"When Heroes returns on April 23rd..."
Excuse me?
April 23 is a month and a half away. And we can't even blame this one on American Idol. (Oh how I long for thee Dr. House!) Suddenly good, or should I say "watchable" TV has turned into a Navy fleet.. docking not so regularly but just enough to come in and spice up your life for a week or two, only to disappear into oblivion.
Hmm.. maybe that was a bad analogy.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Standards
Bless my parents. I called on both of them today, which is rare. I just needed some sort me out conversations from people who wouldn't judge, from people who I have no chance of losing no matter what I do or say. Time and time again, over my 28 years, my parents have said some of the same lines of reassurance over and over. I usually make fun of my mom's "What you're feeling is only temporary" bit, but the one that gave me pause this evening was both parents' constant assurances that, "Your standards are just so high," and "You are so critical of yourself; it's part of your drive".
The thing that finally struck me is that I do set impossibly high standards for those around me, but I fear I don't live up to them myself. How incredibly unfair is that?
For example, I take, but how much do I really give?
My mom talked a lot about the importance of perception and reaction. For example, instead of harping on why a particular person doesn't like me, instead why not take the time to consider how odd their reaction to me is. Lots of other people like me, so what's his/her problem, type of thing. One of my best friends has told me time and time again one of their favorite things about me is that I'm so self-aware. Maybe it's just gotten to the point that I'm TOO self aware.
Then things started to add up. Because I'm this pretend perfectionist, rather than celebrating the overall good, I completely focus on the one or two negative things that I have absolutely no control over (or want to believe I have no control over). It's just odd... I'm not a true perfectionist. My apartment is messy, I bite my nails, my fashion sense, particularly at work, has gone from polished to slightly frumpy. I don't know. It's just strange. I guess I just aspire to this unattainable ideal. I never had ideal, so I'm not sure where it's coming from. Maybe it's because I've always dreamed really really big.
So, I know I've promised a new perspective, and I'm working on it. I just wish there was some quick fix. Clearly, there isn't, and the changes that need to be taken are really quite small, they're also just really painful. So, I'm going to take specific pains to work on my reactions and abandon my current perception of life around me.
Then again, they're searching for the next Pussycat Doll. I mean, if I'm supposed to lower my standards, I could always take the nose dive approach...
The thing that finally struck me is that I do set impossibly high standards for those around me, but I fear I don't live up to them myself. How incredibly unfair is that?
For example, I take, but how much do I really give?
My mom talked a lot about the importance of perception and reaction. For example, instead of harping on why a particular person doesn't like me, instead why not take the time to consider how odd their reaction to me is. Lots of other people like me, so what's his/her problem, type of thing. One of my best friends has told me time and time again one of their favorite things about me is that I'm so self-aware. Maybe it's just gotten to the point that I'm TOO self aware.
Then things started to add up. Because I'm this pretend perfectionist, rather than celebrating the overall good, I completely focus on the one or two negative things that I have absolutely no control over (or want to believe I have no control over). It's just odd... I'm not a true perfectionist. My apartment is messy, I bite my nails, my fashion sense, particularly at work, has gone from polished to slightly frumpy. I don't know. It's just strange. I guess I just aspire to this unattainable ideal. I never had ideal, so I'm not sure where it's coming from. Maybe it's because I've always dreamed really really big.
So, I know I've promised a new perspective, and I'm working on it. I just wish there was some quick fix. Clearly, there isn't, and the changes that need to be taken are really quite small, they're also just really painful. So, I'm going to take specific pains to work on my reactions and abandon my current perception of life around me.
Then again, they're searching for the next Pussycat Doll. I mean, if I'm supposed to lower my standards, I could always take the nose dive approach...
Thursday, March 1, 2007
The Contest
My roommate and I seem to be having a "Who's Got It Worse?" contest. This week has us both burning the midnight oil at work, and not getting home until 10 or 11 at night. When I walked through the door at 10:30 tonight, the first words out of her mouth were, "I only beat you by 10 minutes!" I think we need to come up with a better competition. Particularly because her cat will starve if we keep this one up.
Of course, thanks to work, neither of us were able to take in the free luxury box tickets to the Capitals game tonight, which is a shame. Then again, I was able to ride the Metro home with all of the fans after the game, so it was JUST like being there, well, without having to waste time actually watching the Capitals.
Which leads me to the main point of my blog this evening. Because of the high volume traffic and the sudden need to single track trains tonight (always a good combination, you future urban planners), Metro had a number of crossing guards manning the platforms. Well, I don't actually know what they're called but they wear those reflective vests like crossing guards though I hope I don't have to see them walk across the tracks to stop a train anytime soon.
Anyway, a few impatient people decided to give this woman a hard time because the trains weren't at all frequent and, well, they had nothing else to do so why not. Don't misunderstand me, a train couldn't have arrived soon enough as far as I'm concerned, but as anyone who has worked in that type public service industry will tell you, taking it out on this woman did little to no good. Her job is to make sure we don't get too close to the edge of the platform and to direct the crowds to the opposite side of the platform when they decide to single track. That's it. I appreciate that. If she had any control over the frequency of the trains, I trust she would have done something about it. But she wasn't sitting with a walkie talkie willy nilly directing trains into different routes for giggles. Whatever was going on was not her fault. But this one guy in particular kept following her and, well, heckling her, really. It's just such a shame. I admire her self-control as I would have thrown him on the third rail. I know it's hard to keep perspective sometimes, but the importance of fault, blame, etc. seem to have such an overblown importance in our society. I know I'm at my most ineffective when I'm focusing on who screwed me over as opposed to how the situation might be fixed. Wish we could all realize that about ourselves every once in a while and simply focus on either a) making things right or b) making the best of what you have. The train took 10 minutes by the way... really not bad for a Thursday night at 10:10 pm.
I was really tired when I started writing this and almost stopped, but the thing is I'm scared to go to sleep. I had a DREADFUL nightmare last night.. really upsetting, horrifying, about the very violent, untimely and painful death of someone I love, this time with a supernatural twist! It was so scary that I wouldn't let myself go back to sleep, so I just lay here from 1 am - 2 am this morning waiting for the terror to pass. It's times like this that I really wish I had a cable hook up in my room. Ever since I was a little girl that would always help.. to turn the TV on and fall back asleep to that. Alas.. I may just have to put Season 2 of The Office into my laptop and watch it until I doze off. Either that, or write another 12 blogs tonight and sleep at my desk tomorrow.
Of course, thanks to work, neither of us were able to take in the free luxury box tickets to the Capitals game tonight, which is a shame. Then again, I was able to ride the Metro home with all of the fans after the game, so it was JUST like being there, well, without having to waste time actually watching the Capitals.
Which leads me to the main point of my blog this evening. Because of the high volume traffic and the sudden need to single track trains tonight (always a good combination, you future urban planners), Metro had a number of crossing guards manning the platforms. Well, I don't actually know what they're called but they wear those reflective vests like crossing guards though I hope I don't have to see them walk across the tracks to stop a train anytime soon.
Anyway, a few impatient people decided to give this woman a hard time because the trains weren't at all frequent and, well, they had nothing else to do so why not. Don't misunderstand me, a train couldn't have arrived soon enough as far as I'm concerned, but as anyone who has worked in that type public service industry will tell you, taking it out on this woman did little to no good. Her job is to make sure we don't get too close to the edge of the platform and to direct the crowds to the opposite side of the platform when they decide to single track. That's it. I appreciate that. If she had any control over the frequency of the trains, I trust she would have done something about it. But she wasn't sitting with a walkie talkie willy nilly directing trains into different routes for giggles. Whatever was going on was not her fault. But this one guy in particular kept following her and, well, heckling her, really. It's just such a shame. I admire her self-control as I would have thrown him on the third rail. I know it's hard to keep perspective sometimes, but the importance of fault, blame, etc. seem to have such an overblown importance in our society. I know I'm at my most ineffective when I'm focusing on who screwed me over as opposed to how the situation might be fixed. Wish we could all realize that about ourselves every once in a while and simply focus on either a) making things right or b) making the best of what you have. The train took 10 minutes by the way... really not bad for a Thursday night at 10:10 pm.
I was really tired when I started writing this and almost stopped, but the thing is I'm scared to go to sleep. I had a DREADFUL nightmare last night.. really upsetting, horrifying, about the very violent, untimely and painful death of someone I love, this time with a supernatural twist! It was so scary that I wouldn't let myself go back to sleep, so I just lay here from 1 am - 2 am this morning waiting for the terror to pass. It's times like this that I really wish I had a cable hook up in my room. Ever since I was a little girl that would always help.. to turn the TV on and fall back asleep to that. Alas.. I may just have to put Season 2 of The Office into my laptop and watch it until I doze off. Either that, or write another 12 blogs tonight and sleep at my desk tomorrow.
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