November 2008 Archives

Last night I had a Twilight dream. No big surprise as I've been re-reading the books since seeing the movie. And, might I add, reading Midnight Sun for the first time. For those not in the know, Midnight Sun is the story of Twilight told from Edward's perspective. Somehow it got leaked online before Stephenie Meyer finished it, so she posted the manuscript on her website. It's not clear if she will ever finish it, but I hope she does, because I loved seeing the story unfold through Edward's eyes, and all the places that the two stories touched and then spun back out in to different directions. It was also great to see more of the whole Cullen family.

But on to my dream. What happened in the dream, you ask? Was I basking in Edward's beauty and love? Nope. Was I paling around with Alice, my favorite Cullen after Edward? Hanging out in La Push with Jacob? Zipping through the woods doing interesting vampire or werewolf stuff? Nope, nope and nope. I was filing a complaint with Chief Swan because the Ticketmaster outlet in Forks sold me counterfeit Metallica tickets.

There are so many things wrong with this scenario that I'm not sure where to start. First of all, Metallica tickets? I don't think so. Second of all, you'd think that at the very least my brain would have made me a kick-ass vampire or something cool. And failing that, have me do something out of the ordinary. I feel so let down and disappointed with myself. My subconscious really needs to work on its priorities.

I've made it all the way to day 29, and I have absolutely nothing worthwhile to say tonight. I've written and rejected three separate posts, with only one hour and eight minutes left to come up with something, I'm pretty sure it is not going to happen.

I'm sorry, I used up all my energy writing something else, and there's nothing left in the barrel tonight. I'll just have to hope I can pull off a big finish tomorrow. Here's hoping I can stick the dismount.

Here we are, so close to the end of NaBloPoMo, and I almost forgot to post. Almost, but here I am to save the day. Don't expect much though. I feel awful. I'm not sure if I'm getting sick or if I'm just stressed. The symptoms:

Upset stomach - could go either way

Cannot seem to get warm enough - one for the sick column

Am totally exhausted and just want to sleep- again, could go either way

Had no energy when I tried to work out and had to stop - sign of illness, maybe?

I'm taking vitamins, drinking soothing tea and going to bed early. Let's hope for the best, which I think would mean me being sick. At least that would go away. My stress level is unlikely to fade anytime soon.

It's after 10, and I've only just sat down after spending the whole day baking, cooking, and cleaning up, both here and at my mom's. I'm tired, I ate too much stuffing, and I haven't had any pie. I don't even want any pie, which is kind of silly when you consider how much time I spent wrestling with the ridiculously uncooperative pie crust this morning. Right now, the only thing that holds any appeal for me is the notion of taking some time sit on the couch and stare at the wall before going to bed.

Please don't take that as whining. We had a nice day and I'm properly thankful for all that is good in my life. I'm just plumb tuckered out, as the pilgrims used to say. No really, they did. Miles Standish was known for it. It was his signature signoff, kind of a pilgrim-era "peace out." He accompanied it with a complicated Puritan gang sign.

The day before Thanksgiving is traditionally a very busy one for the people at my company, and in anticipation of that, they ordered lunch in for us today. The vegetarian option was a veggie sandwich with way too much mayo on it for my tastes. Not that I’m complaining. It wasn’t all that long ago that they regularly forgot to include any vegetarian food. It’s just that I find mayo horrifying.

So instead I had a snack sized bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, a snack sized bag of Cheetos, and pickle and a Milano cookie for lunch. I’m sure you’ll be shocked – shocked! – to learn that my stomach was upset after that feast. I didn’t even eat like that when I was a teenager. I don’t know why I thought I could get away with it today.

I have not run since the 10 miler last spring. First my knee was too painful, then I officially wasn’t supposed to run, and well, then I was kind of afraid to run. But after an incident last week in which I got out of breath of going up a bunch of stairs – although to be fair to myself, it was a lot of stairs – I decided I’ve been neglecting my cardio lately. So tonight I got my courage up and went for an experimental run on the treadmill.

It wasn’t a disaster. I mean, I got red faced and sweaty like I always do, but I ran a mile, then walked a bit, then ran another half mile, walked a bit more, and then ran a quarter of a mile. I’ll take that for a first time back out running. And the best part is no knee pain at all. My legs got a little tired, and clearly I do need to do way more cardio because I was practically panting, but no pain. It felt good to get started again.

In other news, Whole Foods has incurred my wrath by having all stuffing cubes with chicken flavor. You’re supposed to be a pretty vegetarian friendly store, you morons. Last year you discontinued the brand I really liked, and now it’s all Chicken and Herb Flavored or Cranberry and Chicken Flavored. I am not pleased. I’m having a hard time getting excited about Thanksgiving this year, and the lack of good stuffing options isn’t helping.

I have very dry skin. I have even since high school. A few years ago it went from ridiculously dry to seriously, painfully dry – which I later learned was a symptom of my diabetes. Now that my blood sugar is back under control, the dry has mostly subsided to manageable levels.

My heels proved troublesome though, staying pretty consistently dry. Last winter they started cracking and nothing I tried seemed to help. And I tried it all. Large grained exfoliators and small grained ones…oils…lotions with fruit acids…pumice stones…lotions with coconut…about five different kinds of shea butter…files…every product I came across. Back in June I went in and got a pedicure, and the little tiny Vietnamese woman who did it told me very seriously to ditch all the fancy stuff and give plain old normal Vaseline a try.

Every night since then I’ve been rubbing Vaseline on my heels, and it has beat out every single expensive lotion and potion. After about a month or so, the cracks started to fade, and then the disappeared complete. Here we are, headed into winter and the rest of my skin is getting drier, but my heels are pristine.

Bonus tip: I’ve also started using this stuff on my very dry arms, and it is awesome. I only need to use it about once a week, and it makes a huge difference.

Once the shock of Wednesday's layoffs started to fade, I found myself wrestling with the urge to run out and splurge on some extravagant purchase – a new Louis Vuitton purse instead of the used one I bought, the Macbook I've always wanted, a Wii, a flat screen TV – something that would set me back a chunk of cash. I've been trying to figure out why.

I think it comes down to a weird mixture of relief (yes! I still have a job and money!) combined with a bizarre sort of defiance. Take that, reality! I refuse to acknowledge how awful this is, and to prove it, I'm spending money I don't need to spend!

And then, of course, getting a new toy can give your mood a nice lift when you are down and stressed out. I'm not going to lie to you. I am down and stressed out. So far I haven't bought anything, but I’ve definitely got the itch.

So last night's featured entertainment was Twilight. Tonight I went to see the National Philharmonic with my dad. Talk about a change of pace. He showed up for dinner half an hour late which irritated me, but we had a nice time anyway.

We saw a performance of Stravinsky's Symphony of Psalms and Orff's Carmina Burana. The beginning of Carmina has been featured in a bunch of movies - it is very dramatic music with people singing in Latin and German. However, they had a translation in the program and it turns out to be a fairly naughty song, with gambling and drinking and virgins and sex. It was very powerful to hear a full choir singing the song backed up by a full orchestra, and the soloist who sang the baritone parts was very good. I'm not an expert on classical music, but I liked it. My dad is more of a purist, and this is one of his favorite pieces, so he was a bit more critical. I was more concerned about the fact that the concert hall was freezing.

Nothing wrong with a little culture, and it was good to see my dad. Twilight was more fun though.

Short version: If you liked the book, you'll like the movie.

Long version: First, I owe my boss a huge thanks for being organized and planning ahead. If it were up to me we'd have been lucky to get tickets and probably wouldn't even have been able to sit together. She had this all mapped out. Leave work around 5, find parking, pick up our tickets, head across the street for appetizers and a drink, and be in line by 6:30. You'd think that I would have learned after she was right about needing to buy tickets on Monday, but I didn't. I was pretty sure we'd be standing there alone at 6:30 looking like fools. Fools who were really too old to be seeing Twilight. Well, I was wrong. There was already a very long line at 6:30, and getting in it when we did was the only reason we got decent seats together. A few observations...teenage girls really do talk a LOT, and now they all have cell phones so they can call and text each other constantly. Also, they all wear Uggs. Now, it was ridiculously cold out for November today, and it did snow a little bit this morning, but I do not know what the deal is with all the Uggs. Or how such young girls can afford them.

On to the movie. They stayed very close to the book, which I think is an important factor. Robert Pattinson is perfect (and hot!) as Edward, and Kristen Stewart makes an excellent Bella. They have a nice chemistry between them, which makes the story believable. Well, you know, for a vampire story. Some of the supporting characters aren't quite as I imagined them, but it's really Bella and Edward's story anyway, so it didn't really bother me. I did like the actress who plays Alice quite a bit. Forks is just as I pictured it would be, and I do love the Pacific Northwest. The scenery in the movie is gorgeous.

Overall, I loved it. The movie is a little slow to get started, but so was the book. Once Bella and Edward start interacting, it gets interesting. The movie is two hours long, but the time just flies by. One minute they were just meeting in biology class (and Edward was being so very rude), and then all of the sudden we were at the part with the showdown with James. I suppose it helped that I knew the story.

I usually avoid theaters on opening nights, so I had no idea how much fun it would be. When the lights first went down, people started clapping. When favorite characters first showed up, people cheered. When the bad guys turned up, you could feel the tension in the theater. And just before certain particularly romantic moments, you'd hear people shushing their friends. I had a blast. And I'll say again, if you liked the books, I'm sure you'll like the movie. If you haven't read them, well, it is a good story, if you like romantic vampire stories.

In conclusion, my inner teenager would like to add "Twilight! Squee!"

I've been at this whole blogging thing for a while now, right? I've been pretty narrowly focused though. While I'd heard of Facebook and Twitter I just hadn't bothered until recently. Hell, I think even my mom beat me to Facebook (humiliatingly, she has like four or five times more friends on Facebook than I do.) Anyway, over the summer I finally signed up for Facebook because there was some college reunion group thingy they told us about. Imagine my surprise when old friends, classmates and former co-workers started getting in touch with me. I was really psyched to hear from some of them.

One day my elementary/middle school archenemy sent me a friend request. Our parents were really good friends, so we ended up spending a lot of time together, but we fought a lot. In fact, we got in to a physical fight in 4th grade. Only time I ever hit someone - ok fine, slapped and hair pulled. I responded because I wanted to see what she looks like now. Pretty normal, actually. Another girl who didn't even like me in middle school just sent me a friend request, and I accepted because it seemed like it would be rude to ignore her. Is that rude? Because honestly, I had almost forgotten she even existed and we were never friends. I was a little horrified to note that she joined a Keep Christ in Christmas group the other day, that not being a central worry of mine. It's right there in the word for Christ's sake (ha! I crack me up! I mean, I'm sure no one's ever made that stunningly obvious joke before). Those two aside though, I'm really happy about all of the people I've reconnected with thanks to Facebook.

Stuff like this does run the risk of making me feel old and unhip though. I like the photos and the fun status updates and the finding of friends and the connecting with people. I don't quite get the Lil' Green Patches and giving of gifts and sending of Karma. Am I a bad Facebooker if I don't give people stuff?

I also got a Twitter account this summer for work reasons, and since I had an account, I started following some of the bloggers that I already read. But of course I was unable to resist actively trying it myself. I've started dipping my toes in the water of Tweeting lately and it turns out that finding really short ways to say stuff is kind of fun. I was all "140 characters, whatever, I'm sure it is boring." I totally underestimated it.

Are you on Facebook and Twitter? Having fun with it? If not, do you plan to start? Or do you intend to stay far, far away?

By the way, if you're interested, you can find me on Twitter here.

I had a meeting right at 9 this morning, which meant I had to sit in a crappy traffic jam for an hour and get to the office at 9:05, already late for my meeting. A meeting where I learned that my company was laying people off today. Not me. My job is safe. But other people lost their jobs today. People I liked and respected and cared about and I will miss them.

That's all I'll say about it, but to not mention it at all would be wrong and fake and I just couldn't blather on about Twitter and Facebook tonight (now you know what to look forward to tomorrow) and not acknowledge what happened.

Then I heard that a girl I work with got hit by a car in front of our building last night and is in the hospital with serious injuries. I don't know her very well, but she is sweet and nice and I really hope she'll be ok.

And hey, then the stock market decided to completely fall apart. It was the perfect cap on a crappy day.

Let's hope tomorrow is better. It kind of has to be.

Seamus and I were out for our morning walk, squinting sleepily in the thin morning light. We paused so Seamus could sniff his 759th blade of grass, and while we stood there on the hill, a large flock of geese passed overhead in a perfect V formation. Two geese veered off, honking like crazy, suggesting a course correction. I imagined they were shouting "Right! To the right!" in goose. The others followed, honking to add their own two bits, the perfect V reformed, and they continued on their way in harmony.

Seamus and I watched them fly by (Seamus always likes to give geese the narrow eye - I think he disapproves of how noisy they can be) and then continued on with our walk. It was a nice little interlude. So I guess sometimes good things can happen early in the morning, if I'm not too groggy to notice.

If you want to go see the Twilight movie this weekend, you'd better act fast. My boss and I are planning to go to grab dinner after work on Friday and then go see the movie. She said something about getting tickets today, and I scoffed. Turns out there are showings already sold out! It's a good thing she's a planner, or we'd have been out of luck. Now we're just trying to figure out how early we have to get there so we can get seats together. And taking bets about whether or not people will show up in costumes. Although really, the characters in the book dress like normal people, so I'm not sure what costumes you could wear. Perhaps there will be fangs. Or Team Edward and Team Jacob t-shirts. And no, if you are wondering, I don't have one of those.

Then on the radio driving home tonight they were talking about the movie coming out and how it is the fanatical pre-teen girls that could lead the movie to the top of the box office. The guy called it High School Ventricle. What. ever. I know lots of people my age who love those books. I bet my boss and I won't be the only 37 year olds in the theater. And I suspect that Quantum of Solace will drop off from this past weekend (we saw it. It was ok. Better than some Bond movies, but not nearly as good as Casino Royale was) so it is conceivable that Twilight could do very well. They've got my money already, so they are off to a good start, right?

I am no good at meditating. I've tried it from time to time, because I like the concept of meditation and on top of that, it has health benefits. It never went well. At the end of yoga class, when you're supposed to lie quietly and mindfully in savasana, I'm usually busy thinking about what to have for dinner or composing blog posts in my head. Once I fell asleep, but I don't think that counts as a success.

I just don't have a quiet and restful mind. I'm an automatic multi-tasker. Even when I watch TV, I'm usually doing something else at the same time - reading a book, working on the computer, knitting, whatever. If there is reading material around when I'm not doing anything, or even if I'm doing something like eating, I'm almost compelled to pick it up and read it. This may be a family trait - I've noticed my brother doing the same thing from time to time, and my mom is practically physically incapable of sitting still. It's not necessarily a bad thing, although I do think my inability to shut off my brain contributes to my insomnia.

But yesterday I got a glimpse of what it could be like. This crazy rain storm came up out of nowhere. One minute there were blue skies and puffy clouds and my neighbors were out walking their dogs, and then suddenly it was too dark for me to even see my book (Michael Chabon's Gentlemen of the Road, by the way, which I enjoyed, but did not find completely satisfying. I felt like I had just gotten to know the characters and then the book was over. I wanted more.) and rain was battering the house. The window was open, and I found myself watching the patterns of the rain whipping sideways outside, the leaves swirling through the parking lot, and the trees down the road bending in the fierce wind. I wasn't thinking about anything else, not even "Oh, I should close the window." I just sat there, observing and being for a couple of minutes. It was nice. Relaxing. Who knows if I'll ever do it again, but it was interesting enough that I might actually try.

I spent a large chunk of my day cleaning. And not my usually half-assed job either, but a proper and thorough job. As everyone knows, I hate cleaning. I don't mind vacuuming all that much since I got the Dyson. There's something very satisfying about watching it suck up all that dirt. Dusting is boring, but not that bad. I just don't think to do it until the dust gets fairly thick. Same with sweeping the floors. Washing the dishes gets me a clean kitchen, and that's pretty important to me, so I generally find it worthwhile. Laundry is easy since we moved in to our house and were freed from the tyranny of the crappy frontloading/stackable unit we had in the condo. But oh, how I hate cleaning the bathrooms with every fiber of my being.

Part of the reason is that I used to feel ill after cleaning the bathrooms, so I did some research and then switched from super chemical cleaners to hippy dippy natural cleaners. But I still felt lousy after cleaning, and then I read an article that said it is the aerosol nature of the cleaners that can cause headaches and make you feel awful. So then I switched to an all natural cleaner that I mix with water and scrub on with a brush or sponge, no spraying allowed. That did help me feel better physically, but it did not magically make me want to start cleaning the bathrooms. They are places where we use soap and water. Shouldn't they be self cleaning?

Our hall bath gets incredibly dusty for some reason, and then the dust mixes with moisture and forms this annoying film over everything. I don't use the hall bath much, so I forget about the dust weirdness until I go in there to clean. It's a special little surprise for me every time! On top of that, the previous owners of this house were absolutely obsessed with child safety. They had put down some sort of anti-skid stuff on the floor of the tub that didn't come off properly. You can't really see it until it starts attracting dirt and changes colors. And it is a pain to get off too.

The other bathrooms don't get as dusty, although they each have their own special little irritations. The mirror in the half bath is flimsy and the pedestal sink never really seems clean to me. I suspect that the soap dish in the shower in the master bath is not the original, as it is kind of awkwardly caulked on to the wall, and the grout under it gets grotty. I always wonder what could have happened to the original.

Oh well, at least I don't have to clean them again for a while. Or wait, I think my point at the beginning of this post was that I should really clean more frequently so it wouldn't be such an ordeal...perhaps I'll try to change my ways.

Tonight I went shopping after work, hitting the Nordstrom Half-Yearly Sale. I like to think of it as doing my part to help the economy. I did quite well, too. I picked up a present I had in mind for someone for $5 less than I had seen it listed at another store. Sadly, Smashbox has discontinued the foundation I like, so I've switched to tinted moisturizer with sunscreen. We'll see how it goes. The all-star purchase of the night was a beautiful new pair of black Cole Haan boots which I got for 40% off. I love buying boots, and I love buying discounted boots even more! Now I just need to find a decent pair of loafers. I don't want patent, I don't want a crocodile pattern, and I don't want loafers that are completely flat. I'm short. I need a little heel.

After the mall I stopped by Linens and Things, which is going out of business. I had high hopes of scoring some bargain towels and sheets, but the place had been totally picked over. All they had left were the ugly colors, and on top of that, they were only discounting sheets and towels by 20%. I was looking to get a deal on high thread count sheets, but they were still ridiculously expensive. I bought some "irregular" high thread counts sheets at the outlet mall one time and got addicted to how soft they are. But damn, they aren't cheap. Anyway, Linens and Things was a huge disappointment to me. I can (and will) do better at Target.

Still, I'm delighted with my new boots, and I've purchased the first Christmas present of the season. Not bad for a rainy Friday night.

I'm a wee bit stressed out at the moment. The stock market insanity is just plain making my job - and the jobs of everyone I work with, this isn't confined to just me - very difficult. I probably spent a good hour and half last night just lying in bed, worrying about stuff. Because that is what I do. Get through the days fine, and then just when it is time to sleep, that's when I get anxious.

This morning I was predictably tired and cranky. And it was raining, which always makes the drive in to work extra special. As I was getting ready for work, Seamus jumped up on the bed and curled up in a little ball, looking as sweet as can be. I was preoccupied trying to find my red v-neck sweater (which is still mysteriously missing by the way) and but he eventually caught my eye. And I stopped, went over to the bed, crawled under the covers, and had a nice long cuddle with him. We just relaxed together, listening to the rain pounding on the roof. It was an excellent and extremely reviving way to spend 10 minutes or so. And lo and behold, the drive in wasn't all that bad, and work was ok and the stock market even rallied (although I wouldn't count on that one to last if I were you.) Behold the power of a good snuggle with a lovable furry friend.

Wednesday night is kickboxing night. If I'm feeling energetic and not totally hungry, I'll stay for the short abs-focused class after. Kickboxing was fantastic as always. I even think I may be getting ever so slightly better at it.

There is this woman who first came to class last week, and who was there again tonight. Plus she was in the weights class I take on Mondays. She's tiny and clearly very fit, without an ounce of fat and on top of that, she's very nicely toned. Here's the thing that's killing me...I'm stronger than she is. I'm way better at the abs stuff, and I'm (slightly) better at the kick boxing, and I used heavier weights than she did in class on Monday. Why am I not a skinny, toned, compact person? I work out a lot. And while my eating is not perfect, it's not terrible either.

I'm pleased about having evidence that I am fit. I've made so much progress since I first started working out, and that's important. But damn it, I want to be skinny too. My doctor says my diabetes will always make it harder for me to lose weight, and I know it is harder for women to lose weight in general, but seriously, there's got to be something that I can do. I guess for now, I'll refocus on eating better and then work out harder. I'm not explaining it well, but I'm feeling both encouraged and discouraged.

I have one of my stupid headaches. I finally gave in and took an Excedrin Migraine, which worked its magic as usual. But it is chock full of caffeine, which I don't usually have, and which I never have at 8 pm. So we'll see if I get any sleep at all tonight. I'm whee! whirring around the room right now (incoherent ranting is likely to ensue), so I may need to take Excedrin PM to come down, Elvis-style.

Now on to more important things, like TV. On the Biggest Loser, oh how I LOATHE the blue team. That Vicky is an evil bitch, her husband is a jerk and Heba, who I used to think was kind of sweet, is a whiny, smug pain in the ass. Edited to add: Ha! In your face Vicky!

On True Blood, John thinks the killer might be Rene. I don't want it to be him! I love his Cajun accent and the silly advice he's always handing out to people. Of course I can't figure out which character I do want it to be. I pretty much adore all of the misfits and weirdos on that show. Well, except that Amy, who I do not like and actually hope gets what's coming to her in some sort of gruesome fashion. Although I do think the actress who is playing her is doing a wonderful job.

Moving on, here are some movies I'm very much looking forward to: Quantum of Solace, although it will be weird not to go see it with my brother, because we always go see the Bond movies together. Also (of course) Twilight. I got my boss hooked on the books, and now have grand plans to fight our way through hordes of teeny boppers to go see it. We're pretty confident we can take them if it comes down to a battle for good seats.

Ok, I've been trying to find a way to wrap this up, but I'm tired. And yet still wired due to the caffeine. Awesome. I think I will just say goodnight.

My mom's eyebrows are much like my mom - well mannered and orderly, never a hair out of place. I don't think she ever has to do a thing to them, and yet they are perfectly arched, not too thick and not too thin.

My dad's eyebrows, on the other hand, are just as much of a reflection of who he is - unruly, sometimes faintly hostile, at times even somewhat jovial. They bristle and wiggle and pop off his face with a life of their own.

My own eyebrows lie somewhere in the middle, neither as nicely groomed as my mom's nor as wild as my dad's. I've always had to shape them and thin them out a bit, but in general I'd say my eyebrows are fairly well behaved. And yet, I've always lived with the fear that one day I'd wake up to find that they'd somehow gone rogue and gotten bushy on me. That hasn't happened so far, but I swear they are considering a coup against my eyelids. Rather than getting puffier, they are expanding their territory down my eyes. I'm finding more and more stray hairs on my actual eyelids. This is not cool. But do not fear for my eyelids! I will be vigilant. I have tweezers - girly pink Tweezerman tweezers - and I'm not afraid to use them.

I have not been reading nearly as much as I usually do lately. I have as many books to be read piled up as usual, but I just haven't been getting to them. One book I did get to was Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book. It's technically a kid's book, so it was a nice quick read.

I always enjoy Neil Gaiman's work, and this book was no exception. It's the story of a toddler who escapes the massacre of the rest of his family by a shadowy evil figure named Jack. The boy wanders in to the cemetery up the road from his house and is given sanctuary by the ghosts who live there. Two of the ghosts adopt him and name him Nobody Owens, Bod for short. He's given the Freedom of the Graveyard, which allows him to communicate with all of the ghosts, and keeps him safe from the outside world. They make him a home in a tomb, and rely on the mysterious Silas to bring in food for Bod to eat.

Bod gets an education from a variety of otherworldly sources, encounters a shape shifter, has a run-in with goblins, meets a dead witch, and even manages to attend a real school for a while. Over the years he picks up a number of skills, learns a lot about history, and even finds his way into a mysterious prehistoric tomb guarded by an entity known only as the Sleer. All of this prepares Bod for his inevitable confrontation with Jack once he returns.

As always with Neil Gaiman, it's not just that the story is interesting and well written. It's all the little details that he includes, like the fun names the ghosts have and the inscriptions on the headstones. Thomes Pennyworth (here he lyes in the certainty of the moft glorious refurrection) teaches Bod Slipping and Fading, and Miss Letitia Borrows, Spinster of the Parrish (Who Did No Harm to No Man all the Dais of Her Life, Reader, Can You Say Lykewise?) teaches him Grammar and Composition, to name just a few. Of course, one of my favorite parts of visiting Westminster Abbey was reading the lengthy, florid and over-the-top inscriptions on the tombs there, so I guess I'm predisposed to like that sort of thing in the story.

The American edition of the book has lively illustrations by Dave McKean, which I thought added to the charm of the story. I highly recommend this book! I'm not exactly sure which age group this book is meant for, and the beginning where the family is murdered might be a bit too much for a young child, although the way it is written leaves your imagination to fill in the details. I had to ask for the book at Borders. They had only gotten two copies in and had left them in the back.

I finally got around to getting a new camera. I bought a Canon PowerShot SX110IS and I'm quite pleased with it. It has a number of settings, most of which I don't know how to use just yet, and I think it takes lovely photos. I'm looking forward to doing a lot with it, and I got my start today.

We try to take Seamus to the park on the weekends, if not for a hike, at least someplace fun and different for him. Today I decided to document our park time.

Some very autumnal seed pod thingys (why yes, I did take horticulture in college):

I really liked the twisty roots on this tree, plus I thought the way the tree was reflected in the water made the shot more interesting:

Then there were ducks. Lots and lots of ducks.

We are ducks. We swim nonchalantly by, quacking madly.

Oh, but perhaps you humans have some food?

"Hey lady, when the humans come to the water's edge, we expect them to have some bread crusts. Don't make me come out of the pond!"

Seamus: "Watchit, ducks, leave my Hillary alone!"

Ducks : "See ya!"

Seamus was not cooperating at all with my many attempts to get a photo that captures his jaunty happiness as he trots through the park. I got one picture of him peeing on a lamp post, about 27 of him looking off in the wrong direction, and right at the end, just when I thought I had finally gotten the perfect photo, I hit the power button instead of the shutter. Again. Argh. Aside from that though, I'm having a lot of fun, so you might want to prepare yourself for more photos.

This morning a guy two streets over from my house decided to start using his leaf blower at 7:00 am. I was up already and out walking Seamus, but it struck me as particularly inconsiderate of him. You could hear the buzzing all over the neighborhood. It sounded like someone was running a massive vacuum cleaner.

His house is at the end of the street, and as we made our loop through the common area, we came upon him in his shorts (the weather was actually quite lovely this morning) and watch cap, wielding the leaf blower, and he had the nerve to give us the stink eye as we went by.

If I were him, I'd have taken a moment to consider which one of us was violating county noise ordinances and pissing off the neighbors, and which one of us was quietly and law abidingly walking her dog through open space, armed with a bag of fresh poop. And then maybe I'd have smiled politely and nodded instead of giving her the narrow eye. I'm just sayin' it might be the smarter move to make.

I spend a lot of time writing copy these days. Some days it is fun. On other days the stock market falls 5% while I'm trying to write a press release for a guy who says the market has bottomed and everything is going to be fine. Those days are less fun.

While desperately searching for inspiration - or was it just plain distraction - on the internet today, I somehow stumbled across a link to this story about a guy who makes over tiny spaces for Oprah. Well, he probably does other things too, but they only talked about the tiny space makeovers. I know tiny houses are kind of a hot new thing these days. They are economical, environmentally friendly, in keeping with the new frugal we-don't-want-another-depression chic and unlikely to get foreclosed on.

They are also really, really small. This woman's apartment is 250 square feet. If you click through and look at the photos, you'll see they made it an exceptionally nice 250 square foot apartment, with all sorts of clever storage and tucked away things (the litter box is particularly fancy) and a very cool looking teensy kitchen. Even so, I would lose my mind in a space that small. She doesn't even have room a door for the bathroom, just a curtain. I just couldn't do it. I don't need some 10,000 square foot mega mansion, but I need walls and space and a room of my own. Even when I was growing up, I loved it when my family went out and left me in the house by myself. Another classic American case of Manifest Destiny, I guess, just on smaller scale.

Plenty of people seem to feel these tiny spaces are just wonderful. What do you think? How small a space could you live in on your own? Or share with others?

John and I agreed last night that we'd like to have some newspapers to commemorate the election. We knew we wouldn't be the only people who wanted copies of the paper, but we had a plan. John would hit up Barnes & Noble as soon as they opened and snatch up one copy of each paper.

It was an excellent plan except for two factors we hadn't expected. First, they only get two copies of the New York Times at the Barnes & Noble in Frederick, and both copies were gone at 9:01. John suspects Barnes & Noble employees of absconding with them before the public ever had a chance. Second, we didn't count on out of town people asking us to get them copies of the Washington Post. I would have stopped on the way in to work, but I got stuck in traffic and I had an early meeting . I can look for the New York Times at lunch, I thought.

But by lunch, there were no New York Timeses or Washington Posts to be found anywhere. I tried three different stores. Whole Foods briefly and cruelly misled me by having papers in their bin, but they were from Sunday. Then I heard they were doing special print runs of the New York Times and the Post and there would be additional copies available this evening. Lies! I tried again after kickboxing - 2 CVS, Wawa, Giant, Rite Aid and a Bottom Dollar later, I had found no papers. My poor mom was out at the same time, trying to do the same thing (although she got a copy of the NYT this morning at Starbucks, consarnit) and having no luck. In the end, we each managed to find the final couple of copies of the special commemorative edition of the Post, and that will have to do for the out-of-towners.

Ironically, just a couple of weeks ago I went through the same damn thing with the Washington Times. It's a piece of crap conservative paper that I would normally never buy, but someone I know was quoted in an article and I thought he'd like a copy for himself. I ran all over town trying to find a place that had the Saturday edition, but they all had a Friday/Saturday edition instead, which was the wrong one. Who knew newspapers were still so relevant in this day and age?

For more newspaper fun, check out this link from my brother: http://www.newsdesigner.com/top50/

I got up this morning, went and voted with no wait and no trouble. Everyone else had such great stories about waiting in line and how fun the atmosphere was that I felt like I missed out on part of the experience. All I got was some crazy Bartlett (Roscoe, not Jed from the West Wing)/McCain/Palin guy with a massive sign and a wacky homemade flag.

I spent the day trying to focus on work, but restlessly checking the Internet for news. After work I hit the gym, where Becky and I compared notes on our nervousness about the outcome of the election. On the drive home, I listened to results on the radio and started getting nervous. Virginia was too close to call. Florida was too close to call. Pennsylvania and Ohio were too close to call. I was a wreck by the time I got to the house.

So I went in the kitchen and focused on dinner for a while. John fed me updates from the family room, and the tide started to turn. By 9:30 I was ensconced on the couch, flipping channels and cracking jokes. We watched Fox for a while, just to see what crazy claims they were making. I was hoping they’d declare McCain the winner of someplace completely inappropriate like France. Everyone showed the crowd growing in Grant Park, and even though I don’t like crowds, that looked like a fun place to be. By 10: 45 I was up and pacing, wishing Obama’s electoral college numbers would start moving again. I started demanding to know why they hadn’t finished counting the votes in Florida yet. Fox called Virginia for Obama, and I felt a little better. Over on NBC 4, Jim Vance referred to the RNC party in Richmond as “probably not as gay” as the DNC party in Tysons Corner as he introduced the guy in Richmond, sending me into hysterics. I know what he meant, but oh, the delicious irony. The poor reporter in Richmond was stuck trying to make about 30 very glum looking Republicans seem interesting. And then they went back to Jim and Doreen, who said they were sending us back to New York, and out of nowhere they put up a huge graphic saying Barack had been elected. It was unexpected at that moment and a wonderful surprise.

I’m so relieved. I’m so happy, for myself, my family, my country and the world. Here’s to a great next four years for us all. Congratulations, President Obama!

The first presidential election I ever voted in was in 1992. I was pleased to be old enough to vote, as I had missed the 1988 election by just a few months. But in '92 I was of age, and I voted for Bill Clinton. I was so excited when he won, and was convinced that all of the causes I believed in would be advanced and the world would be a better place. Well, I soon learned the error of my ways there. While I do believe our country was better off under Clinton, he also let me down on a number of policies I thought would be a shoo-in during his presidency. He disappointed me, and I grew cynical about politicians.

Then in 2000, the Republicans up and stole the election and I got even more cynical. I watched the blatant manipulation of everyone in the country after 9/11 and in the run up to the Iraq war - I could tell they were lying, why couldn't anyone else? - and just about gave up on the political system. Then when Bush got re-elected I was disgusted with Kerry for giving in when he should have questioned the result in Ohio, with the people who looked at the state our country was in even then and voted for him anyway, and with the whole darn system. And things got even worse in the U.S. Then the Democrats won the midterm elections, and I thought well, maybe we're getting somewhere. I will never forgive Nancy Pelosi for the crap job she has done as Speaker of the House. Her lousy leadership makes both women and Democrats look bad, and I truly hope Cindy Sheehan beats her in tomorrow's election. What a squandered opportunity!

So that was my state of mind back when they had the Maryland primary, and I wrote about how I didn't like either of the Democratic candidates still in the race. In the intervening time, I've been wholeheartedly convinced that Obama is the man who should be our next President. It's true, as I worried back in March, that he doesn't have a lot of experience. However, I've listened to him speak, and I watched the debates, and I did my research. George Bush got this country in to trouble because he was both inexperienced and a total moron. Barack Obama is a smart man, a prepared man, and I am positive that he is ready for the challenges that our next President will face.

And make no mistake, there will be challenges. This country is a mess. He'll need to end the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and bring our troops home. He'll need to fix the economy, which will be a huge undertaking. I believe in Barack's healthcare proposal. I like the idea of ending tax cuts for corporations who ship jobs overseas. I don't have a problem with people who have more money paying more in taxes. John McCain has no solutions to the problems we face - he only offers more of the same useless policies that haven't worked for the last eight years and have gotten us to where we are today. Barack Obama has new ideas, good ones, and truly is our country's best hope for a better next four years. And that's why he's getting my vote.

John and I watched the Guy Ritchie movie Revolver last night. After the movie ended and the screen faded to black, John brought up Google and typed in "revolver Ritchie what the fuck" That gives you our reaction in a nutshell.

I was pleased when John told me he'd stumbled across a Guy Ritchie movie we'd never heard of before. Little did I know that there is a good reason that this movie wasn't widely promoted. I wonder if it was ever even released in the theaters. Going in, I really expected to like this movie. There are three main reasons why:
Guy Ritchie. I loved Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch.
Jason Statham. I admit it, I'm a fan. I even enjoyed the over-the-top piece of ridiculousness that was Crank, but I could not find anything to like about his performance in this movie.
Ray Liotta. We know from Goodfellas that he can do a great job playing a gangster. He just didn't do that in Revolver.

You can probably tell that I didn't like the movie at all. The only nice thing I can say about it is that visually it was very interesting, with a comic-book feel. As for the rest, the plot doesn't go anywhere, and the stuff that does happen doesn't make sense. Jason Statham has lank, stringy long hair and looks awful. Plus, he doesn't get to do what he does best, which is drive fast and kick ass. Ray Liotta was just a plain mess, but I'm guessing it is hard to do a good job when you have no idea what the hell your character is doing or why he is doing it.

I spent the entire movie waiting for something to come along and explain what the hell was going on in the story. It was supposed to be a sort of straightforward revenge tale, perhaps with a side of a good con thrown in for good measure. Except that supernatural-ish stuff happened and no one explained how. At first I thought that Andre from OutKast and the guy who played Big Pussy were magical somehow. Then I thought they were con men who had known Jason Statham's character Jake in prison. Then I thought they were figments of his imagination. Then I just wanted the damn movie to end. There was double-dealing and conning and triple-dealing, but I never figured out what the point of any of it was. Andre and Big Pussy ended up with all of the drugs and all of the money, and they gave some of it away, and some of it back to Ray Liotta at the end...maybe.

The only interesting character in the whole thing was a hit man called Sorter, who could kill anyone. Except, apparently not Jake, and anyway, it was just a small role. You could never be quite sure if you were in the present or in a flashback, and you never got any payoff for why the characters were doing what they did. I generally like stories where the reader or viewer gets to imagine what happens next, but not in the case of this movie! Mostly because I had no idea what I had just watched. Yes, there were events that unfolded in a sequence, and there were flashbacks. Usually the flashbacks add to the narrative and help to move the story along, but in Revolver they just add more questions. I read some of the other reviews online, and there were people saying "oh, if you don't like it, you just don't get it" and "you have to watch the movie several times before you understand it." First of all, I'm smart. I've watched a ton of artsy-fartsy movies in my time, and I've understood and enjoyed many of them. There wasn't anything to "get" about this movie. It was just poorly done. Second, you could not pay me to watch that movie again. Well, you could pay me, but the cost would be prohibitive.

I think Guy Ritchie is a really talented and creative guy, and I hope he gets back on track. If Revolver is what being married to Madonna did for him, he's better off without her. Do yourself a favor - do not watch this movie.

I was not happy with that Memory Lane post. I was tired and distracted when I wrote it, and it did not say what I wanted it to say.

I wanted to talk about what a lovely person my friend's mom was. How much I admired her, and how said I am that she's gone. Due to my somewhat unusual background, very religious people often make me uncomfortable. That was never the case with my friend's mom, even though she was a devout Catholic whose faith permeated all facets of her life. She was someone who tried very hard to live life as a true Christian - helping the less fortunate, treating others with kindness and never judging - and when she said "God bless you" you knew she was handing you the highest compliment she had to offer. She was an eternal optimist and lived a life that seemed to be filled with joy. Over the years I saw her get flustered or stressed out from time to time, but never angry. And while she lived a very traditional life while I knew her, she also had lived a very daring life before she settled down, married a widower with six kids and had a child of her own. In a time when women weren't given a ton of options, she traveled the world as a stewardess, living in Tokyo and the Philippines and going all over Asia. She could fit twice as many clothes in a suitcase as a normal person, rolling everything up carefully so there'd be more room and nothing would get wrinkled. Eventually she came back to the States, got her Master's and then went to live in San Francisco. When I was struggling to learn to drive a stick shift, she told me a hysterical story about learning to drive on the hills of San Francisco and rolling backwards halfway down some huge street. And that's just the way she was. Supportive, encouraging, and always ready to laugh. I'm sad that's she gone, and I'm devastated for my friend.

I also wanted to talk about how seeing all those people from my past, and going to so many places from my... youth, I guess it would be, considering the span of years from Kindergarten to the end of high school, reminded me that even in today's fast paced modern world, where it seems sometimes like I do all my communicating through technology - phone, email, blogs, Facebook, Twitter, texting and so on - I'm still connected to other people. That I can go to a place and have someone say "Hey Mom, remember Hillary Maidenname?" and that mom will cry out in joy and give me a huge hug. That there are people who remember my birthday party at Shakey's when I was six, that we played hide and seek in the boxwoods when we were in second grade, that my friend and I convinced her older sister to take us to see Beverly Hills Cop even though it was rated R and a whole lot more. It felt good to see them all, and hear about their lives, and to say to them, yes, I have a good life. I'm happy. It is so easy to get caught up in the day to day business of living life, and then you look up and realize a whole year has flashed by. And so I walked away from funeral quite determined to spend more time with the people who matter in my life.