Recently in Misc Penguin Category

Here it is almost the end of April and yet again a huge chunk of time has passed without me writing anything here. I keep meaning to but never quite get to it.

Well...March, usually one of my favorite months, kind of sucked this year. I was sick with one thing or another for three of the four weeks and I turned 40. I was not thrilled about the approach of 40, nor am I particularly happy about it now that it has arrived. Still, the world did not end and if you want to take your mind off such a milestone being miserably sick for three weeks is one way to do it.

Let us speak no more of March.

April has been a bit better. My 40th birthday present to myself was an iPad2, although I only got it last week. First I had to dither about spending the money and which one to buy and then I had to wait for it to arrive. But now it is mine and I love it. I worried a bit that once I actually had it in my possession, I'd feel bad about how much it cost. Nope. I'm still figuring out everything I can do with it, but it's great.

The other big news of the month is that I saw a nutritionist, who put me on an elimination diet. No gluten, dairy, sugar, caffeine, eggs, alcohol or soy for two weeks, with limited red meat and pork. By the end of the two weeks I was actually fantasizing about a piece of toast with butter on it. Interestingly enough, I do seem to have had fewer headaches and stomach upsets in the two weeks, but then again, I don't get headaches and an upset stomach constantly. I don't think I have a food allergy, but we'll see.

It is a very clean way to eat, but not one I think I can keep going forever. For one thing, I miss cheese. For another, it is a lot of work. The gluten free thing is the biggest hassle (and I don't care what anyone tells you, gluten free pasta is terrible) but the lack of dairy is what bothers me the most. Well, and I don't enjoy tea without a little bit of sugar in it. Easter came just after the two week period ended and I cheated wildly, eating waffles, bacon and hash brown potatoes with cheese at brunch without any ill effects. But now I'm back to "everything-free" until my follow up with the nutritionist in early May. Then I get to start officially adding foods back in.

So, what's up with you? If there's still anyone out there, that is.

Hello from the most inconsistent blogger ever!

I keep meaning to sit down and write something, but in the end I just don't. Not much of an explanation for where I've been, but really, who cares, right? Life has been rolling along as it does, neither great nor terrible, just life.

Let's see, a quick round up of my life since last we spoke.

I cut my hair. It's the shortest it has been since college, in sort of a messy bob. I love it. I'd put up a photo, but I'm not having a good hair day. That's not my hair's fault. I have a cold, so I've been breathing in steam to try to deal with the onslaught of congestion. It helps me breathe better, but it is not so kind to my curly hair.

We successfully hosted Thanksgiving dinner for the first time. Not bad for someone who was a vegetarian until May and who had never cooked a big meal for a large group of people before. I'm pleased to say the turkey turned out perfectly. I wasn't worried about the side dishes, but getting everything ready at the same time and cooking a 20 lb turkey did have me a little worried. Thank goodness for the Internet and most specifically for the Thanksgiving guides on Epicurious.com and PioneerWoman, because their advice gave me everything I needed.

We started watching Dexter. Why didn't anyone tell me this show was so great? Oh right, you did. Well, we've made it through Season One and just started on Season Two. I hate the opening credits sequence, but really like everything else about the show.

Sticking with TV, I'm also loving Top Chef All Stars (although the museum challenge was stupid! I want to see these people cook, not make snacks for screaming children!). This is the pefect antidote to Top Chef Just Desserts, which I watched, but did not enjoy.

I'm definitely feeling rusty in the blog post department, but at least I'm back up on the horse, right Becky? (Note: Becky got tired of waiting for me to get my shit together and asked, very politely if I was ever going to write anything ever again. Hi Becky!)

In closing, I'll leave you with a cute photo of Seamus, who is trying to get into the Christmas spirit:

One of my very best friends from college has a radio show these days, and she asked me to call in to talk about blogging. I confessed that I've been seriously falling down on posting lately, but she still wanted me to call.

I figured I should get at least get something up on the page in case my URL comes up during the interview. So, hi Triple L Show listeners! I swear it's not usually quite so boring here at Bad Penguin.

And for the record, the lovely Bella is as awesome in real life as you'd think she is from the show.

I planted my first ever vegetable garden this year. It has not been what you'd call a resounding success. I have decided to declare this my learning year.

We had some nice lettuces at the beginning of the summer. They were very enjoyable, until one day they all disappeared. The corn grew very tall but never produced any actual corn. We did get a few green peppers, but the red and yellow pepper plants just sat there doing nothing. Last week I was very excited to see that we had one small, adorable watermelon growing, and then this weekend something ate it. At this time I suspect that son of bitch groundhog. He was seen in the area, and has the means, motive and opportunity to commit the crime.

My herbs have done ok, except for the cilantro. I used a bunch of it in June and then all of a sudden it got very tall, flowered and died. At least I still have the basil, rosemary, thyme and sage.

Now all of my hopes are pinned on my tomatoes. I put in four different varieties of tomato plants because I love fresh tomatoes -- in salads, in sandwiches, with cheese, on their own, in sauces. I have plans for those tomatoes. The plants have all grown up nicely and the marigolds I planted with them seem to be doing their job of helping to keep pests away, but they are all still stubbornly green. All except this one

I sliced it up and ate it on an english muffin with some smoked mozzarella. Delicious! But now it's like the other tomatoes are just taunting me with their potential to be awesome. Or stolen by rogue groundhogs.

One of the things that has surprised me the most about life in our new house is how much wildlife we have here. I know I joke about us being out in the country, but we really aren't. We're only a few miles past the Frederick city limits, and while Frederick isn't a huge city, it is a city. Still, I could practically write a post per day about my interactions with the wildlife here.

I've written about the deer and the bugs, but there is so much more. When we had the big snowstorms earlier this year, the snow stuck around for a while. Every morning we'd wake up to more tracks crossing and crisscrossing the yard and the driveway, highlighting just how much activity goes on out there. Hoof prints and paw prints and bird tracks weaving their way back and forth in the snow.

There's a fox who lives in our woods (we think) who I typically see crossing the driveway at night. There are squirrels galore. One day recently I was coming home and there was a squirrel sitting in the middle of the driveway, clutching something in his paws and nibbling on it. I pulled up in my car and he gave me an irritated look and moved a couple of feet farther down the drive. I inched forward and he looked at me, then moved a couple of more feet. Finally, after the third time I got near him, he glared at me and took off into the woods.

Something helped itself to tuna can out of the recycling bin. My money is on the raccoon John saw amble down the front steps, across the front walk and into the woods.

We had a full on, Winnie-the-Pooh-style bee's nest in the bushes between the house and where we park our cars. John dealt with that one. If I look out the window to the back yard, I'm almost guaranteed to see two or three butterflies dancing around. Of course there are also a lot of gnats, which aren't nearly as charming.

There are bunnies, of course. And birds. I don't know much about birds, but we have a hawk I see pretty regularly, the woodpeckers, cardinals and blue jays. Plus plenty of others I can't identify, including one that makes noise exactly like R2D2, and some bird that very insistently kept trying to build a nest on our front porch.

About a month ago I looked out into the back yard and there was a mama deer calmly nibbling on a tree at the edge of the woods while her very tiny, very young fawn raced in circles around her, zooming into the trees and then tearing back out of the woods at her.

Just on Wednesday what we think was a groundhog (it looked kind of like a squirrel on steroids) snuffled around on our front steps for a bit before disappearing off somewhere.

I think my favorite story is this one though, although technically it happened in my neighborhood but not at my house. Last fall I was driving home after dark. It was one of those dramatic, windy nights with a full moon lighting up the sky. Something flashed on the side of the road, catching my eye, and I slowed down, just in time to see a mouse run in front of my car, followed by a big, fat marmalade cat. The mouse stopped on the double yellow line, the cat swiped at it with a paw, then snatched it up and continued on his way across the road. It was like something you'd see on the Serengeti, only in miniature. And sad for the mouse, of course, but also kind of magical.

If you're supposed to come to dinner on Tuesday night and you call on Sunday afternoon at 3 o'clock to ask if you can come tonight instead, I can either deliver a nice dinner or a sparkling clean house. You can't have both. And given that I hate cleaning and love to cook, well, guess which option I'm going to take. Yes, that's right, delicious food in a tidy but not perfect setting...

So here's what I served:
Grilled chicken breasts in a lemon/thyme/garlic and olive oil marinade

Vegetable kebabs in the same marinade (red and orange peppers, onions, zucchini, grape tomatoes) also grilled

Grilled new potatoes

Strawberry shortcakes with white chocolate cream

That's better than a house that is spic and span, right?

At 5 o'clock this morning there was a very loud noise (WHUMP) and then the whole house shook. As you might imagine, this woke me up. It woke John up too, so we conferred and then I investigated by looking out the window while he checked out the downstairs. Everything seemed fine, so we went back to bed. Seamus never even woke up, which I guess is a benefit of the fact that he's slowly losing his hearing.

I couldn't fall back asleep though. The only thing I could think of that would cause a noise like that was an explosion, which led immediately to thoughts of "Something went wrong at Ft. Detrick (home of scary bioweapons research) and now our lives are about to become something out of The Stand, Feed, or The Passage. Fuck!" Although I suppose that we're close enough to Ft. Detrick that if something did happen there, we'd probably die pretty quickly. There's a cheery thought for you. Perhaps I should lay off the post-apocalyptic fiction for a while.

Then I considered a plane crash.

Then, well, BP has a facility here in Frederick. Maybe all of their stuff has just started spontaneously exploding.

How big a car accident would it take to make a noise like that and shake the whole house? I don't think that's actually possible.

At this point it finally occurred to me to turn on the radio. I'm not kidding when I say I'm not a morning person. My brain actually moves that slowly at 5 am. Plus, I was very busy thinking up worst case scenarios. Imagine my surprise when they said it was an earthquake. You can't really blame me for not thinking of that. This is Maryland. We don't usually get earthquakes here. Based on 1970's disaster movies, I always figured there'd be more shaking, things falling over and general drama. And George Kennedy.

Anyway, by then I was full on awake, so I just gave up and got out of bed. What a weird way to start my day.

I really need to start writing again, don't I? For one thing I've had to turn to this blog twice recently to figure out when a particular event happened. If I ever need to look up something from roughly August 2009 to now, I'll be screwed. And it's not like I don't have stuff to write about. I compose posts in my head, but for some reason, never quite get around to typing them up, and then the moment passes. Well, there will be no more of that nonsense.

So, two anecdotes to get me going again...

Bright and early one recent Saturday morning, I stumbled outside with Seamus, who had been quite insistent that is was time to get up. I protested that it was Saturday, but he persisted with the ear flipping and fussing, and eventually hopped up on the bed and stuck his little furry face in my face. That's the sign that he is serious, so even though it was way too early, I got up. As we made our way up the driveway, I kept hearing this hammering noise. "What kind of asshole is hammering at 6:30 in the morning?" I grumbled, cranky about being awake. And then we got closer to the sound and I realized that it wasn't one of my neighbors at all, but an enormous woodpecker. I'd seen him before - and he really does look like Woody Woodpecker - but normally his pecking is a rapid rat-a-tat-tat. This time he was working on some sort of special project, I guess.

****

My Kitchen Aid Professional Mixer is one of the best purchases I have ever made. Seriously, it changed my baking life. So this story should be in no way construed as criticism of my mixer, which I love dearly. But it has this flour guard that you can put on before you add dry ingredients that is kind of a pain to use. The flour doesn't always go in to the little gap cleanly, and as the paddle rotates, it bumps the guard around and is noisy. A couple of weekends ago I was making my delicious lemon cake and decided to try a little experiment. I mean, really, how much flour could the flour guard keep in the bowl? Yes, well, quite a lot as it turns out. I poured a little flour in and then watched in dismay as it flew right back out again in a fine white spray. Don't worry - my cake was fine, but the cleanup was way more annoying than the flour guard could ever be. So the lesson here is, the flour guard is your friend.

I finally got around to taking my car into the body shop last week. The damage to the car from when I got rear ended wasn't all that serious, but I did want a car with a bumper that was at 100% of its bumper capacity if you know what I mean. The other guy's insurance arranged for me to get a rental car from Enterprise (motto: we'll pick you up. Hope you're prepared to wait a while). Seriously, if I had known how long that was going to take, I would have gotten a ride.

And once I got there, the guy actually said to me "hey, the car we were going to give you needs an oil change. It should take about 20 minutes. Is that ok?" I then explained that I really had to get to work at some point that day and asked if they had anything else available. You know it would have been more than 20 minutes, and frankly I'm surprise they even had the nerve to ask me given how long they'd left me waiting at the bodyshop.

This is how I ended up driving a cute little VW Beetle. I have to say it was fun to drive a car with personality. I love my Honda Civic Hybrid, but it is reliable and practical and efficient, but it is not a fun car. The Beetle is. I'll never buy a VW again after the spectacularly bad experience I had with my Jetta, but it wasn't a bad car to drive for a few days. Plus, it had heated seats. I LOVE heated seats and have decided they are an absolute must for my next car. However, it turns out that I've gotten really used to my digital spedometer in the Honda. I felt like I was guessing at my speed in the VW. Also, I was lost without the jack to plug my iPod into the stereo. Funny how stuff you never even knew you cared about becomes indispensable after a while. So I'm happy to be back in my boring Civic. Plus the bodyshop got it so clean it's like a new car!

That would be me. And now I'm trying out Movable Type from the phone. So far, so good! I have a ton of stuff to write about, but I'm going to start with tonight's big adventure. My dad called me up a couple of days ago with the great news that had gotten us tickets to go see Carmina Burana. But wait, you say. Didn't you already go see Carmina Burana with your dad? Yes! I say, and congratulate you on your excellent memory. Apparently the production we saw before was "too Hollywood" so we had to go see this more authentic version, performed by the German School of Washington. I was very worried it was going to be some awful school chorus, but it was actually quite nice .

My dad was late, but not that late for him. It was an interesting experience being surrounded by people speaking German. The soprano and the baritone were very good but it turns out that I don't particularly like countertenors. Carmina Burana is in German and Latin so I'll admit that my attention wandered a bit at times. I watched enviously as the little boy in front of me played solitaire on his dad's phone. I had to resist the urge to peer over his shoulder and give him advice -- red three on the black four! I played a rousing game of is dad asleep or just listening with his eyes shut? Answer: I think both. The woman two seats over had on so much perfume that I practically had an asthma attack, and I don't even have asthma. And then it was over, and I sped home through a very rainy night.

Yesterday was my 39th birthday. I took the day off of work and spent it lazing around with John and Seamus, which was delightful. I have to admit that this is the first time in my life that I haven't been all that enthusiastic about a birthday. Something about 39 has me a little freaked out. Ok fine, it's the fact that next year I will turn 40. I find 40 daunting for a lot of reasons. There's so much I still want to do in my life, and I guess I thought I'd have accomplished more by now. It's a pretty long list, and at the top is "have kids". And it's not for lack of trying, but obviously, I don't have any yet and now I'm actually running out of time.

At some point last year I decided that I didn't want to be infertile or diabetic anymore, and so I rebelled. It would make a more interesting story if I could say that I ran off and became a roadie for a rock band or that I joined the circus and rode the flying trapeze, but the truth is much more boring. I drank juice! Ate doughnuts! Skipped workouts! With the all too predictable result that I gained weight and didn't get any joy out of my rebellion at all.

I wasted a bunch of time hating myself for gaining weight, but eventually realized just how counterproductive that was. So instead now I'm focusing on healthy eating and exercise. It hasn't been easy. The very first day of trying to get back into my regular post work gym routine I got rear-ended on the way to the gym. It wasn't serious, but my shoulder was still and sore for a few days. Then it snowed about a million times. I like working out though, and lately I've managed to get into a sort of a groove. Now it is time to start working harder. I got in shape before, and I can do it again. And once I do, I'll quit messing around and get on with the IVF. Take that, 40.

The sleet and freezing rain started up right as I hit the city of Frederick last night. I switched over to the car's thermometer setting, and it said 40 degrees, so I figured I had a little time. In the five to seven minutes it took me to get to where we live just outside the city, I watched the temperature drop. 38 degrees. 37. It skipped right over 36 and fell to 35. By the time I got to our house - after first following a car the inexplicably went 30 mph on the road where the speed limit is 40, and then 40 mph on the road where it is only 25 - I was down to 34 degrees. It's always a couple of degrees colder out here anyway, so that's not quite as dramatic as it sounds, but still, we were just about to cross over the freezing mark.

I still have time, I thought, and aimed the car down the driveway. The top part was fine, but once I turned off on to our section, I started to slide. I got to the house, parked the car and ran inside, throwing down my purse, groceries and gym bag. I kicked off my heels and greeted John and Seamus hurriedly while I put on sneakers. Then I raced back out to the car and up to the top of the driveway, slipping and sliding all the way. And it is a good thing that I did, because if I hadn't there'd be no way I'd be getting out of here today. All it takes is the slightest coating of anything (today: Ice) and that driveway becomes impassable.

I think maybe I'm getting the hang of this country living thing. Although I'd be perfectly content if we could be done with the stupid winter weather already. We lived in our townhouse with its nice, snow clearing HOA for four years and I think it snowed three times. I move out here where we have to do all the work - and a lot of work it is - and I think this is the fifth time in a month and a half that we've had weather bad enough to affect the driveway. Not cool, mother nature.

Chris over at Rude Cactus has called Delurking Day, and I for one am glad. Now, there may not be anyone reading anymore after a month of no posts, and naturally, I have no time for a proper one this morning. However, I promise to delurk and comment my ass off on my lunch hour today. So if there's anyone still out there, please pop by the comments and say hello. I promise my unscheduled blog hiatus will soon be over. Need a topic to comment on? How about Conan vs. Leno? For the record, I am 100% Team Conan.

Ok, I must go make the bed before leaving for work. We're having someone over for dinner tonight who has actually met the Queen of England, and you just know her bed was tidy when he got the tour of the palace. TTFN.(see, I can hang with the British)

The plow guys did indeed come back yesterday as promised. It turns out that what was called for was a front loader:

It is not the greatest photo, because I was trying to be unobtrusive about taking it. They spent a couple of hours making sure the driveway was good and clear. Very thorough and nice guys. They created some impressive piles of snow, too.

Driveway before plowing:

And after plowing (plus piles of snow):

And because my brother requested photos, here are a few more.

Seamus in the snow
This first one is Seamus dragging me back into the house, having had enough of the too-deep snow:

And this is Seamus in the too-deep snow:

The lovely sunset (note that the herb garden in front of the shed has disappeared:

Let us also celebrate that this is the first morning a week where I didn't get up and run for the cold medicine because I woke up feeling like I was going to die. I still need decongesting, but I think I may finally be on the mend.

Behold the snow back when I thought it was pretty instead of annoying. In fact, it is snowing again right now, when the weather guy said we'd get only rain tonight. He said it while I was in the car driving home an hour and a half ago. And yet my front walk is now covered with a fresh dusting of snow.

The front yard, including said walk and the unmelting driveway of doom:

The snowy valley. I wish I could take a photo that did the view justice:

My back yard, complete with shed and snowy garden of herbs and mystery plants:

And just because I think he's the sweetest, cutest beagle in the world:

And I loved it. They did a wonderful job of adapting the story from the book and I have to say you can really tell the studio invested more money in New Moon than they did in Twilight. About a million other people have already reviewed it, so I won't bother to repeat what I'm sure has been said before. Just that I liked it.

We had visitors this weekend -- family in town for Thanksgiving. It was good, because it forced me to deal with some of the little jobs around the house that I'd been avoiding. I love it when the house is this tidy and well put together. Plus it was a lot of fun to show them the place for the first time, and on top of that we had a nice visit. The one part that amazed me was just how much noise a six year old, four year old and two year can produce simply by existing. Wow. I swear I never got that loud as a child, but maybe I just can't remember. They are sweet and well behaved kids, but they generate an incredible amount of noise.

Speaking of me as a child, my mom has brought up one of the most annoying of her arguments back up again. Thanksgiving is coming, and she's mad that I'm a vegetarian. I should eat turkey for the holidays. Apparently my "personal beliefs" are just pesky phase that get in the way of her cooking a nice big turkey for Thanksgiving. How is it that our parents know exactly which buttons to push to turn us back into eyerolling teenagers? One of life's grand mysteries, I guess.

A little over a month ago, my mom and I were in a rental car with satellite radio and we stumbled across the all Bruce Springsteen channel. We were stuck in a traffic jam at the time, and my mom turned to me and said "I've always wanted to go see Bruce Springsteen play."

Just a couple of days after that conversation, they announced that Bruce was playing a show here in DC, so I got tickets. And last night, we took my mom to her very first rock concert.

Everyone always says that Bruce puts on a killer live show, and I'm here to tell you that everyone is not lying. No one could ever accuse him of phoning it in. They played the entire Born to Run album, which is my personal favorite. He went out into the audience and crowd surfed back up on to the stage during Hungry Heart. He pulled a little boy up on to the stage and let him sing, then prompted him to say "take it away, big man." Clarence, by the way, really is a big guy. And he has a lovely gold manicure to match his saxophone.

The whole band sounded great. Bruce said something about it being toward the end of the tour, but instead of seeming tired or sloppy, they were totally on every note of the music. Even better, they played the songs as they were originally recorded (Sting, I'm looking in your general direction here).

The contrast between this and the last show I went to -- U2 and Muse -- was fascinating. U2 puts on a fantastic show and I had a fabulous time at that concert. I'm probably a bigger U2 fan than I am a Bruce Springsteen fan! But U2 is polished and fancy where Bruce and the E Street band are just stripped and basic and about nothing more than the music and the connection with the audience.

I think as rock concerts go, this is the best one I could have taken my mom to for her first (and most likely only) concert experience. She got to feel the thrill of the house lights going down, the roar of the crowd, and the magic of that first chord on the guitar. She sang the lyrics along with the rest of the crowd. She clapped and danced and cheered and ran into friends in the crowd, just like you're supposed to at shows. And I had a pretty darn good time too.

Now I'm curious. What was your first show?

...fighting off a cold.

...blearily not sleeping enough.

...writing about global investing.

...trying to keep up with her gym routine.

...fitting in reading chapters of The Gathering Storm whenever possible.

What are you doing this week?

Hello, and welcome to the boringest blog on the planet.

I find I have very little to say these days. My insomnia has flared up recently, which leaves me less creative than usual. Stupid insomnia.

I am still doing stuff, of course. I saw Zombieland (funny, and not very scary. I only had to look away a couple of times) and keeping with the "--land " theme, also saw Adventureland, (sweet and also funny at times. Not a bad movie at all).

My book club is doing exactly what I like book clubs to do, which is getting me to read stuff I probably would never have gotten to on my own. This month we read The Book Thief. At first I really didn't like the way it was written, but then I got sucked in to caring about the characters. That was kind of a mistake, as the book is set in WWII Germany and is narrated by Death. Let's just say they don't all make it, and I cried a lot.

And then there's the house, which I love more every day. We still have some work to do, but it is coming together nicely.

See? Boring. And now I have to go to work, so I have no more time to spend on de-borification. I'll try again tomorrow.

I have spent a ridiculous amount of time lately dealing with the de-caulking and re-caulking of two of the bathrooms at our townhouse. First there was the endless chiseling, poking and scraping off of the old caulk. Then everything had to be washed with bleach and water to prevent molding. And finally, the application of the new caulk, which really seemed like it should have been easy, but which took me forever instead. The fumes left me with a headache that it took two Excedrin Migraine, two Advil and a Coke to defeat, and on top of that, I seem to have sprained my right index finger squeezing the caulking tube(s). Don't ask me how I managed that, because I have no idea. It is making typing a bit of a challenge though. By the time I stumbled home this afternoon, I felt so awful I was reduced to mumbling incoherent insults at the Redskins from the couch while I waited for the medicine to kick in. At one point I yelled something along the lines of "Mmurph...suck?!" which roughly translates to "what the fuck, a safety? Why the hell do you guys suck so much?"

Anyway, the whole process left me feeling like a moron, because I really should be able to handle such a simple DIY project, but never again. As God is my witness, the next time I have a tub that needs re-caulking, I'm going to figure out who you can pay to do this shit, and then I will hire them. And it will be worth every single penny. I have many, many skills. I've decided I'm ok with not mastering this one. So Caulking Council? Caulker's Guild? Whoever? You've got my business for life.

That's not to say that I had a bad weekend. I took a lovely fall hike with my friend Deborah in Little Bennett Park. That got off to a rough start because I forgot that the exit off the highway says it is for 121 Clarksburg Road, but you actually have to turn left and then right to get to Clarksburg Rd. So I may have gotten a wee bit lost before I figured out where I was going. Once I actually found the park and the parking lot, all was well. They have a bunch of nice, not crowded and not too difficult hiking trails. Back at home I baked cookies and hung out with my loved ones and enjoyed my house in the country. And I started reading Cherie Priest's Boneshaker, which I'm really enjoying. I haven't read many steampunk novels, but if they are all as good as this one, I might have to start.

And how was your weekend?

Back-ish, anyway. I got busy. Then the site got hacked. My fabulous hosting company helped me get it unhacked, but then the templates were all screwy, and all of my attempts to fix it just made the situation worse. Then, today, I finally gave up on my pride and begged a friendly former colleague for help. I didn't want to bother him, but he didn't seem to mind. Naturally, he was able to talk me through the problem in about ten minutes. So I've lost all my recent comments and I don't have a proper design anymore, but at least I have my blog back! I went with the default template of Portland in honor of my brother, who lives there. It will do for now.

So clearly I have some work left ahead of me, but I'll get it figured out eventually. I have much to tell you too. For example, I have baked in my new kitchen, and it is awesome. I have recipes to share! I have books to review. And I have discovered the show Fringe, and I can't believe I wasn't watching it last season.

Ok, this is just a quick post to celebrate the return of the blog. Yippee!

And how are you doing? Is anyone still reading after almost a month of downtime?

Sometimes in the morning we are greeted by deer in the backyard:

The first time, I shuffled sleepily into the bathroom and looked out the window and thought, I wonder if we'll ever see deer out there. Then I took a closer look and realized there were two them calmly nibbling on the grass. I know lots of people think of them as pests, but I find them a charming sight. They seem to leave the vegetable garden alone, not that I have any idea what is actually growing there. I thought vegetables would be more recognizable as what they actually are, but about half of them are a complete mystery to me.

Seamus is entranced by the deer, watching them avidly from various vantage points:

He likes the new house quite a bit, but I think the deer just might be his favorite part of the whole move.

He really does seem to be feeling much better. Doesn't he look happy playing with this new toy from his Aunt Becky?

He's certainly carrying it around the house energetically:

I'm still pretty worried about him though, watching him like a hawk for any signs of a relapse. He goes back to the vet in two weeks for a checkup, and we'll decide what to do for him then. For now I have to content myself with giving him extra cuddles every day, and hoping for the best.

We officially moved in to this house a week ago, although technically at this time last week the movers were probably just climbing into their trucks to head to our townhouse. By the time they wrapped everything up at the new house, night was falling and we were about to make our first two observations about how much different life is in the country. Specifically how dark it gets and the noise level.

We're roughly five miles from our townhouse here and I was surprised how much of a difference five miles can make. When it gets dark here, it gets fucking DARK. I think there's a streetlight about half a mile away. Otherwise the only lights come from the other houses, and there aren't that many of them. It is both very quiet and very noisy. When I can get my anxious mind to settle down, I can actually sleep through the night, which is unprecedented. If you listen really, really hard you can hear cars off in the distance, but the everyday neighborhood noises I grew up with are gone. There are few cars driving by, no neighbors on their deck making noises, no kids running and screaming while they play, no dogs barking, no trash truck with bad brakes squealing its way up and down each street. Well, actually, there are probably all of those things, it's just that we're so far back from the road. Instead the noise comes from nature. The crickets and cicadas in the woods are so loud at night you almost think they are massing for an attack.

There are a lot more bugs in general, which is going to require some adjusting on my part. I am not a fan of bugs, and there are some seriously large insects around these parts. The first day the biggest fly I had ever seen in my life got in the house. Big to the point where we were joking that it might not be a good idea to try to kill it because it was big enough to be carrying a gun. The other day I went out on the back porch to put out the recycling and when I turned back around, there was a grasshopper on the handle for the screen door. I waited him out and he hopped away after a long minute.

Our driveway is long and steep. The long I knew about, but the steep was harder to detect in a car. Hauling my ass up that driveway with Seamus every day should give me some nice hamstrings, but if it snows, there's no way my little Honda is going to make it up to the street. I find I don't mind the idea of being snowbound for a day in my snug little house. Speaking of walking Seamus, there are no sidewalks here, so everyone just walks in the street. There aren't many cars going by, so it seems pretty safe. I'll admit I'm a little worried about that.

Now obviously, five miles from where I used to live doesn't really put me in the country. I'm sure the residents of places like South Dakota and Idaho will scoff at me. I'm only a couple of miles outside of Frederick city, I'm less than an hour from DC and Baltimore, and there are multiple grocery stores and Thai restaurants 10 minutes away. It is a big change for me though, and so far I'm liking the country life. I had no idea what I was missing before.

It doesn't feel descriptive enough to say that the last two weeks have been busy. Busy is too short a word to cover all that I have done in that time frame. I went to Boston with my mom for a family wedding. I came home and frantically sorted and packed stuff into boxes in preparation for our move. Then Seamus had a major health scare. I thought we might lose him, and there really aren't words to describe how I felt about that. Start with terrified and heartbroken and inconsolable, and then go into soundless weeping, maybe. He's on the mend now, although he may need surgery and he definitely needs medicine. The good news is we found out yesterday that he does not have cancer, which is what the vet feared.

My sweet puppy collapsed the night before we closed on the house which meant we spent half the night at the ER vet. We couldn't leave him alone, so he went to the closing with us, his little paw all taped up from where they put in his IV, and curled up under the table while we signed papers. Then the movers came, and worked and worked and worked. It was 11 of the most hot and humid and miserable hours I have ever spent, and they were ones doing the heavy lifting! Oh yes, and also in the middle of all of this, the product launch I've been working on for almost six months now, the most delayed launch in the history of my personal career, yeah, that went in to high gear right before I left for Boston. I haven't been to the gym in weeks, I'm behind on assignments for my writing class, and most of my stuff is still in boxes.

On Sunday I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I love the new house. It is wonderful, and every day I find something new to like about it. But I was more tired than ever before in my life, I was so worried about Seamus I was practically throwing up, and there was just so much to be done. I'm glad to say I'm feeling a bit better now. Getting a diagnosis for Seamus lifted a huge weight off my shoulders, plus you can see him getting better. The house is slowly coming together, I actually handed in my writing homework on time last night, and the launch is theoretically kicking off at noon today. I shaved my legs this morning and I'm making my triumphant (where triumphant = pathetically huffing and puffing on the treadmill) return to the gym tonight. Hopefully my next stop is contented blissville.

So what you all been up to?

A study came out last week that said that - gasp - organically grown foods do not have substantially different nutrients from regularly grown foods. This immediately led to a bunch of smug articles about how all we crazy hippies who buy organic have been wasting our money.

To which I reply, no, actually, we haven't wasted a penny. When we say that organic products are healthier, what we mean is this: Organically grown foods are not drenched in endocrine-disrupting, potentially cancer-causing pesticides and chemicals. Organically grown foods are grown in ways that are better for the land they are grown on, better for the people and animals who live on that land, and better for the water affected by that land. The dairy products I buy aren't full of growth hormones and antibiotics that my body doesn't need or want.

It doesn't just apply to food, either. When I buy soap and shampoo and conditioner made with organic ingredients (and I admit that I don't always), I know I'm getting stuff made with ingredients that were grown responsibly, not tested on animals, and are paraben and sulfate free. That's also better for my health and the health of the earth.

Then there's the benefit that organically grown fruits and vegetables just plain taste better. Stack an organic tomato or peach up against a regular one in a taste test, and I guarantee that the organically grown one will have more flavor and a better texture. They might not look as pretty, but in the end, it is taste that counts. Organic butter tastes approximately 1 million times better than regular butter. The same goes for organic cheeses.

So feel free to make fun of me. I'll get the last laugh in the end.

To paraphrase Lloyd Bridges in Airplane, I picked the wrong week to give up caffeine. After a serious bout of insomnia last night because my brain just would NOT stop, I went to Starbucks this morning. Once Iced Grande Skim Chai later, I'm convinced that was one of the best decisions I have ever made. You know that scene in Willow where Val Kilmer gets let out of the cage and then he jumps around declaring "I feel BETTER!" and waving his sword? That's me, right now.

Between the move and the five million things that have to get done in relation to the move, all the traveling I have coming up in the next 30 days, the fact that I have to find a dress to wear to my cousin's wedding and oh yes, dog sitting for my mom, this is just not the time. I can cut caffeine out of my life after we move.

Now I'm off to go zoom around at work being super productive. I could conquer the world today. All Hail Caffeine!

I gave up caffeine years ago. I get cysts, you see, and limiting caffeine makes the cysts go away. Plus, I wanted to have a baby, and giving up caffeine is supposed to make it easier to conceive. Maybe. Either way, you're not supposed to have caffeine when you're pregnant and I thought I would be pregnant (ha!) so I gave up caffeine. I did not particularly enjoy the process of giving up caffeine. I got headaches. I was cranky. I was tired. But I did it. After the initial giving up period, I still had the occasional cup of tea or bottle of Coke, but it was not a regular thing with me.

And then somewhere last fall or perhaps over the winter, caffeine crept back in to my life. I was so tired all the time, so lacking in energy and the motivation to do anything that I needed a daily dose of caffeine just to keep moving forward through my day. Sometimes two doses, morning and afternoon. As crutches go, it was a pretty good one - not terribly expensive, always reliable. But now the time has come to say goodbye to my friend caffeine again. I still get cysts, and I still want to have a baby, too. I have not had any caffeine since Wednesday. Here, for your enjoyment, is a re-enactment of my body's reaction to this development.

Thursday morning:
Body: Um, hey, I'm kind of tired over here. You should get more sleep. How about we stop at Starbucks?

Me: Nope. We're just going to have to tough it out.

Body: Not sure I like the sound of that.

Thursday, lunchtime:
Body: You know what would go perfectly with this lunch? A Coke.

Me: I don't think so. We shouldn't have much Coke, what with the diabetes and all.

Body: But there's a soda machine right there in the kitchen. Delicious, icy cold Coca-Cola.

Me: Not gonna happen.

Thursday afternoon:
Body: Tea?

Me: Ok. How about some nice Decaf Constant Comment.

Body, incredulously: You're seriously not going to give me any caffeine? Fine. Enjoy this SKULL CRUSHING HEADACHE, then!

Me: Ow.

I did about half of my Spinning class on Thursday night with my eyes closed, because the overhead lights were killing me. Friday went much the same, with my body periodically suggesting that what I really needed and wanted was caffeine. Sweet, energizing caffeine. At one point on Friday morning I shuffled into the restroom, bleary-eyed and zombieriffic, and was horrified when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I swear, even my hair looked tired.

I think this giving up process took about four or five days the last time I drastically cut back my caffeine consumption, so I'm almost there. Until then, I'll be the tired looking one closing her eyes at odd moments and muttering about tea.

My Sidekick, once such an advanced and cool gadget, is now sadly behind the times. It frequently has trouble finding a signal even though T-Mobile assures me they are constantly expanding their network. Accessing the internet through it is a slow and often frustrating process. It is time for a change.

First, there's the iPhone. I was initially iPhone resistant, but now I covet the apps and the 3G internet capability. The one problem with the iPhone is that I know from my Touch that I hate the keyboard. I text at least as much as I talk, so the keyboard interface is pretty important. iPhone users, does it get better with practice?

Then there's the Blackberry Storm. One of the guys I work with has it, really doesn't like it, and says he's going back to the iPhone. That's the only opinion I've heard on it. Of course, there are other Blackberrys and they do seem to be much loved. Do you use a Blackberry? Which one? How is it for using the Internet?

I don't know anyone who has a Palm Pre, and thus, know virtually nothing about it. I read a couple of reviews that said, "eh, it's not bad, but it's no iPhone." Got another opinion to add?

Google Android phones. I've read these have potential, but still a long way to go. Thoughts?

What phone do you use? Are you happy with it? Please let me know in the comments.

There is a game that I play sometimes, during my long commute or when I'm wandering through the neighborhood on walks with Seamus. I look at cars and I imagine who I would be if they were mine.

I could be an outdoorsy camping and hiking type in the Jeep Wrangler, a high-powered businesswoman in the sleek black Mercedes sedan, a rugged and capable farm girl in a pickup truck.

Or I could be a sports car driver - going classic in a cherry red 67 mustang convertible with a black top (I see this car all the time and it is gorgeous) or more modern with one of the new Mustang Fastbacks. Then there's always the Porsche Boxster. Can't leave out Porsche when looking at high performance automobiles. I've always liked the look of older Corvettes too. The ones from the seventies are long and lean, but there are also some good looking ones that I think are from the fifties, more compact, but still with very nice lines. I will always have a soft spot for the Magnum PI era Ferrari as well.

If my fantasies are going in a completely different direction, I could be a suburban mom in a Volvo station wagon, a fun seeker in a Mini (old or new), or a driver who went for the exotic with an Aston Martin. Ooh, or a Karmann Ghia. While I still harbor a grudge against VW for my crappy Jetta, the Karmann Ghia predates that particular era.

I never seem to imagine myself in cars I don't like, so Hummers and Escalades and pretty much every modern Lincoln, Buick and Pontiac are out. As are your boring, everyday sedans. Which, naturally, is what I drive.

Would I be a different person if I bought a different sort of car? I'm not sure I would. No matter what car I got, underneath it all, I'm pretty sure I'd still be me, the ordinary, prosaic and practical Honda Civic Hybrid type. It is nice to pretend, though.

What's your dream car?

Apparently even at the ripe old age of 38, I am still the sort of procrastinator who leaves her homework until the last minute, then allows herself to be talked into Terminator: Salvation. Which was...okay, I guess. The special effects were impressive, the plot was lacking, and the ending was ludicrous. The actor who played the maybe-Terminator had a really hard time hanging on to his American accent, but I liked Moon Bloodgood and Anton Yelchin. And it had Michael Ironside. He makes everything he's in more fun, just by showing up and being gruff. But then I found myself up way past my bedtime, wrestling with an assignment to write a full description of a scene using a limited number of adjectives and adverbs. It turns out that sometime between 11 and midnight, I start to get confused about parts of speech. Fucking grammar.

Of course, that was last week, and here I find myself in the same last minute situation again. This time I have a better excuse, at least. I have to turn in my second short story tonight, so I was busy working on that. Still, guess who will be spending her lunch hour polishing her homework assignment on dialogue? Yes, that would be me. Some things never change.

So it turns out that once you add a writing class into the mix, I'm not all that good at juggling my job, my commute, my workout schedule, the odd social engagement, spending time with my loved ones and you know, everyday life, plus posting here. Be back soon.

In the mean time, please enjoy some photos of the cutest beagle ever:

Oh, and lest ye worry -- strawberry jam has been restored to the Penguin household:

If someone had come into my house, held a gun to my head and said "Your life depends on your answering this question correctly. Do you have any strawberry jam?" I would have answered with a confident "Yes, we do."

And then I would have died, because apparently we only have grape jelly and red raspberry preserves. I've ransacked the refrigerator and the pantry, so I know this for sure now.

Now you may be wondering what the hell kind of neighborhood I live in - and clearly it is one that takes its condiments seriously - but my point is how can I not have any strawberry jam? I remember buying it so clearly. I can even picture the little jar in my head. So either I'm now hallucinating grocery store purchases or I actually had a dream about buying jam. I'm not sure which is sadder.

I had lunch with my friends Becky and Laurie yesterday, and they may have made veiled threats about what happens to people who don't update their blogs for a whole week. In my defense, I was unexpectedly busy. However this week marks the five year anniversary of when I started blogging, so I really should make an effort. If I had written, I probably would have said something along the lines of:

1) The new Star Trek movie. Saw it, liked it. The special effects were good, the action extremely satisfactory, and while the plot wasn't perfect, I didn't hate it either. I thought the actors did a wonderful job in their roles, particularly Zachary Quinto, who I was prepared to dislike. Spock was always my favorite character on Star Trek and I'm used to not liking Zachary Quinto as Sylar on Heroes. But the only objection I had to him was that they had Winona Ryder playing his mother. She's my age. He's only six years younger than me (yes, I looked it up.) I'm not old enough to be Spock's mom, dammit.

2) Lost! From starting off with the appearance of yet another Deadwood alum, to the final Lost reversed black text on a white background, the finale did not disappoint. Except for the part where we have to wait until 2010 to find out what comes next. Maybe I'll fill the time with old Deadwood episodes.

3) Andy Capp Hot Fries. These came up in conversation recently, and I wondered do they even still make them? The internet says yes. Not only do they still make them, they make them in four flavors. I'm unclear on why such an obscure comic strip character has his own snack - in Original, Cheddar, Steak White Cheddar and Steak Chili no less - but I guess never underestimate the purchasing power of drunks and stoners looking for that special something to much on after the bars close.

4) Writing class. My writing class started and so far so good. Although, I'm in the first group that has to share a short story for the class to critique and I'm tied up in knots over it. I don't really write short stories, or even read them all that much. So I pulled out the few short story collections I do have, which only made things worse. They either tend to be short stories about characters I know from full length books or written by Neil Gaiman. You know who is an intimidatingly (hey, Word is claiming that intimidatingly is not a real word. I'm pretty sure it is so I'm sticking with it) better writer than me? That would be Neil Gaiman. I've fretted about this story all week and kicked around a bunch of ideas, but I haven't actually written anything yet. And it is due tomorrow. Nothing like a little procrastination to get the words flowing, right?

How was your week?

I took a quick trip up to New York on Friday for a business meeting. I went with my new boss and another team member. The weather was lovely. We traveled by train, which I always enjoy, and the meeting itself was extremely productive, which was fabulous, since I'd been prepared for it to be complicated.

Two things of note happened. First, I totally jinxed myself. For some reason, I felt it necessary to say out loud that I had made it through the whole winter without getting sick. Sure, I qualified it with "but my allergies have been really bad." and "I'll probably get some horrible summer cold" but it was too late. I had to be punished for my folly.

My throat was sore when I woke up on Friday, but seeing as how my dark grey car was covered in so much pollen it looked green, I figured it was due to allergies. Nope. My colds always start with my sinuses, but not this time. This time I have some weird chest, throat and ear cold. I started coughing and hacking Friday night and I haven't stopped yet. I actually stayed home from work today. I've been propped up on the couch, surrounded by cushions, reading, blowing my nose, chomping on nasty cough /throat drops and sucking down juice, stopping occasionally to feel sorry for myself. It's been full on summer outside for the past three days, and I've been too sick to enjoy it.

The other event of note was that we managed to steal not one, but two cars while we were there. Three mild mannered publishing professionals turned brazen by the big city. Well, no, not really. The people we were meeting with had arranged for a car to take us back to the train station. We went outside and there was a car waiting right there by the door, so we got in it. The driver confirmed we were going to the train station, and then as he started to drive away, he asked "You're Caitlin Murphy?" "No, Kathryn Mulroney"* we answered. "I'm not your driver." he said, and turned the car around. There were two other cars from his service waiting at a different entrance to the building, so he drove us over there. He pulled up in front of them, sternly and emphatically ordering us to stay in the car. He went over and talked to the other drivers for a minute, and then came back over. "You go in that car." he said, pointing to one of the other town cars. "He's your driver." So we went over and got in the other car, and I swear, I swear to you he said "Kathryn Mulroney" and we said "Yes, Kathryn Mulroney." And so we headed off to the train station again. About halfway there, he gets a call on his phone and they say his passenger is waiting. "What are you talking about?" he said. "I already picked them up ten minutes ago." Then he made me say the name into the phone, and they said again "You're in the wrong car." He shows me the text of the reservation info, and it is some chick named Danielle something. It doesn't sound like Caitlin Murphy or Kathryn Mulroney. I don't know how he misunderstood us. "You're supposed to be in car 73, but I guess you can just stay in that one." said the dispatcher, and we made it to the train station with at least ten minutes to spare. Hopefully poor Caitlin and Danielle got their rides too.

*Names were changed to protect the identity of my boss and any other random people hurt by senseless limo theft, but they really were as close as Caitlin Murphy and Kathryn Mulroney, just different.

I did something very ordinary and unremarkable on Saturday, but I'm both terrified and thrilled about it.

As I've mentioned, back in November when my company had its first round of layoffs, I was quite sure there'd be a round two, and equally convinced that I'd lose my job when it came. So I started asking myself "if I didn't do what I do now, what on earth would I do?" 2008 was kind of a rough year for me professionally - see a) job connected to stock market and b) year long stock market turmoil, capped off with full-on implosion - but on the whole, I like what I do. I've spent much of the last year and a half focused on building online communities, planning and creating website content, optimizing for search, and engaging customers to drive traffic. I did plenty of other stuff too, but that was the part of my job I enjoyed the most, and I was good at it. Still, I wondered, did I want to do that somewhere else? I wasn't sure, and when I tentatively looked into it as a backup plan for when the layoff came, it seemed like most of the jobs in that sector are in Manhattan and Los Angeles, two places I have absolutely no desire to live. Ever. Unless they are paying me $20 million per year, and while I'm good, I'm not that good.

So I spent more time thinking about my life and what I enjoy about it that could possibly be a career for me if my current one fell through. After a lot of angsty goodness, I arrived at writing, specifically fiction writing, because why go for something easy. I mean, my immediate thought when I worried about getting laid off was that I could probably convince my company to allow me to keep writing for them on a freelance basis while I looked for work. Yes, I had a plan for if I got laid off in place. Ask about freelance work, get the severance money, take a month and drive out to see my brother in Portland and then start looking for a new job. Oh, and I was going to dye my hair blue temporarily because I've always wanted to, but couldn't due to the corporate nature of my employment.

It doesn't seem 100% crazy, the notion of me writing fiction. I wrote my first "book" in fourth grade. It was a Nancy Drew knockoff, I'm sure it was awful, but the fact is, I wrote it. Over the years I'd drift away from writing and then I'd drift back, and then I got busy doing other things. In college I had a double major and a lot of partying to do, which really got in the way of writing. After college I'd periodically make a fitful start here and there, but I never did all that much. I scribble down story ideas all the time, but I never sit down and think them all the way through or turn them into anything.

Now, obviously, round two of the layoffs has come and gone, and thankfully, I'm still employed. However, in the midst of all this soul searching I had an idea, no make that THE idea. It is the best story idea I've ever had, and I'm determined to tell it. I've been working on it on my own, but I've decided it couldn't hurt to get a little help, because it is not enough to tell the story - I have to tell it well. So on Saturday I signed up for a creative writing class. It starts in May. It's just a little workshop, but I'm petrified that it won't go well. And dreaming about how maybe it will.

Seriously, the universe does not want me to post. You can't tell from the outside, but Tracey has done some serious work to upgrade me to the latest version of MT. Unfortunately, she ran into a lot of hassles along the way, so it took a while. Then I was very busy being lazy and lounging around on the couch, so I didn't even try to post for a couple of days. Then when I did try, I couldn't. There's something about the new MT that just doesn't work on my home desktop. I don't know what it is, and I couldn't figure it out.

I don't really go on the Internet with my laptop, so then I had to get that hooked up and at first MT wasn't working properly on it either. But then some Firefox plugin fixed it somehow. Oh, but first I went to plug the ole laptop in and connect it to the cable modem and the power strip for all the computer stuff had died and so I couldn't turn anything on. You have got to be fucking kidding me, I said, but luckily I had another power strip. So I had to crawl under the desk and switch everything to the new strip, and bang my head, and fumble around getting the new one in the outlet between the desk and the wall.

Not what I had planned to write at all, but ha! take that technology. I am the victor this morning. And now I have to go to work.

This morning Seamus and I left for our walk at the exact same time that the trash truck pulled up in front of the house. Guess what! The trash truck takes the exact same route through the neighborhood that Seamus and I take on weekday mornings. It was like being stalked by a large, smelly aqua beast with glowing eyes, lumbering along behind us growling and squealing.

Not exactly a quiet, meditative stroll through the neighborhood, but kind of funny all the same.

She perches awkwardly on the hard wooden bench reserved for people waiting for to-go orders, clutching the little plaque with her order number on it. Her heavy winter coat is too hot for the café, crowded as it is during the lunchtime rush, but after a glance at the chilly grey sky through the window, she decides to leave it on for now. "It can't take them that long to get my order ready." she thought. "It's only soup and a roll."

The guy who ordered after her is also getting takeout. She moves her oversized purse from the bench to her lap and scoots over so he can sit down too. He gives her a little smile and folds himself into the space she's made for him, making sure he's displaying his numbered card so the staff doesn't miss him when his food is ready. "Why do we all do that?" the girl thinks to herself. "Everyone is so anxious about them not seeing the card, but they yell out the numbers if it is a takeout order. It's not like they'll refuse to give you your food."

An older woman drifts up to the counter, studying the menu board intently while she toys with a key with the Audi logo on it. Her hair is sleek and perfectly highlighted, her winter coat fur and full-length. "That's overkill for a suburban bakery-café at lunch time." thinks the girl on the bench. The woman answers the cashier's questions vaguely at first. "I would like the broccoli and cheese soup." she says, but isn't sure if she wants a cup or a bowl. No, wait, she'd like the soup and salad combo - what size is that? The choice of rolls available with the soup throws her momentarily, but then she picks whole grain, and they are off to the races as she confidently makes her salad dressing choice. Balsamic vinaigrette. The girl on the bench is not surprised. Her order properly sorted, the woman heads off in search of a table, the obligatory order number card in hand.

She's followed at the counter by a harried looking dad with a sleeping boy in a double stroller. From the bench, the girl guesses he's about 18 months old. Wandering behind them on foot is a three year old girl, chirping brightly as she provides a running commentary. "Look, Papa, that lady has a red coat. I have a red coat! This is the place that has the yummy cookies. I get grilled cheese here sometimes. Papa. Hey Papa, I want grilled cheese for lunch." He shushes her gently and orders a grilled cheese sandwich for her and a French dip sandwich for himself. Then he picks her up so she can see the cookies in the bakery case. "I'd like a cookie with M&M's please." she says to the cashier, who smiles and steps over to get it for her. "Here you go, miss." he says, handing her a cookie wrapped in bakery tissue. "Thank you!" she replies, flashing a killer little girl smile, all dimples and sweetness. Her father sets her down and reaches into his pocket for his wallet.

A tall woman appears at the end of the counter. "Number 94?" she calls out in what sounds like a Jamaican accent. The girl on the bench jumps up, waving her numbered card, and hurries over to claim her soup and roll.

Not literally, of course. My legendary clumsiness continues unabated. While putting new sheets on the bed last night after doing laundry, I somehow snagged my left foot in my right sock, flailed around awkwardly, managed to free my foot, and then slammed my left big toe into the bed frame, ruining a pedicure that had been holding up nicely. It takes a true talent to injure yourself while making the bed.

But figuratively I'd say I'm making progress. My usual happy self is out there somewhere, and I'll fumble, trip and stumble towards her. The key is to keep pushing forward.

Yesterday I was emailing with my favorite freelance copywriter, who was telling me all about this new town he's moving to in June. I was curious to see where it was exactly, so I looked it up on Google Maps. Then I got distracted by the map and just started clicking around looking at other places. I find maps irresistible for some reason. As I zoomed out, I noticed that Forks, Washington is called out on the map, a little dot in the middle of not very much else.

I thought to myself, I wonder if it has always been that way and that's how Stephenie Meyer picked the town in the first place, or if it is highlighted because so many Twilight fans have searched for it. And then I took a closer look at the map and realized that I've probably been to Forks.

A few years ago my mom and my brother and I took a trip to Seattle, up to Vancouver, over to Victoria on Vancouver Island, and then down to the Olympic Peninsula before heading back to Seattle. According to the map, when we drove from Port Angeles to the Hoh Rain Forest - which is a very, very cool park to visit by the way - we must have driven through Forks.

Obviously, it didn't make too big an impression at the time. I was probably arguing with my mom about whether or not I was driving too fast or something. Family wrangling aside, I thought the places we visited on the Olympic Peninsula were some of the most beautiful spots I've ever been. It's so green and lush and the mountains are incredible. I know everyone says I'd have trouble with all the rain if I lived there, but I love that area of the country.

Forks shouldn't take my lack of memory personally. Apparently I'm getting old and senile. I was telling John about how my boss and I are going to go see Jane's Addiction and Nine Inch Nails and mentioned that while I know I've seen Jane's live before, I can't remember if I've seen NIN or not. He pointed out that not only have I seen them, but that they were on the same bill as Jane's Addiction at one of the Lollapaloozas. And as we have discussed previously, he and I were both there, but we didn't know each other yet. Which led me to realize that show was 16 or 17 years ago, and wah, Jesus Christ I'm getting old. But hey, I once briefly passed through a town that is very important to teenage girls, so all is not lost.

...PomJob wins the Boca gift package. Congratulations!

The rest of you still have a chance to win the big prize of $5,000. I'm not giving that away though - you have to go enter at http://balancedliving.gather.com/ Just be sure to fill out your entry by this Friday, February 27th.

As for me, life is a little bit busy. I could perhaps use some of that balance that they are talking about over at gather.com. In the last week I have attended a wedding (lovely and romantic), had dinner with a friend (delightful), had dinner with my dad (somewhat frustrating), gone house hunting (both exciting and a wee bit terrifying), had lunch with my mom (yummy), gone to the dentist (two cavities and an abscessed tooth. Why do I have such horrible dental karma?), celebrated John's birthday (whee!), gotten assigned to a new project at work (a cool one, but a big change for me) and kept up all my usual activities besides. I'm tired. Last night I couldn't even make it through the Oscars - I kept falling asleep on the couch.

There is a lot brewing in this brain of mine. A proper post is coming, I promise. Until then: Bizy, Backson.

Bonus points to anyone who can identify that reference from one of my favorite pieces of literature :)

As anyone who has been reading here for a while knows, I’m a vegetarian. I’m also an enthusiastic user of Boca products, so when they invited me to a DC area blogger spa night, I was more than happy to go. Free spa services and a product I already use? Why yes, I’ll be there.

I got to meet Linda of Sundry Mourning, a site I’ve been reading since before I even had a blog, and I’m pleased to say she’s just as smart and funny in person as she is in her writing. Beth from So the Fish Said was there too, and it was nice to see her again. I have to admit that I’m a shy and somewhat awkward sort of person at these things, but for me I didn’t do too badly. I didn’t walk up to Linda and say “Hey, we both love kickboxing, True Blood and making zombie jokes! Want to be my new best friend?” and while I didn’t get to meet everyone who was there or get their blog names, I did have some interesting conversations and enjoyed my free massage. Also, they had Boca mini-sliders. I never get to eat the mini hamburgers, but I did this time!

The point of this spa night was to spread the word about an online community, Gather.com and a Boca Balanced Living contest they are running. You can read all about it here, but basically, the idea is that we are all looking for balance in our lives – I know I am – and right now you have the chance to win $5,000 to help you find that balance. Perhaps $5,000 would help you get out of debt and restore your peace of mind…or it would allow you to hire a babysitter and get to the gym twice a week…or pay someone to clean your house so you can spend quality time with your family. All you have to do is write a little essay about what you’d do with the $5,000 and submit it through their website by February 27.

Personally, I think I’d use $5,000 to hire a personal trainer so I can finally finish losing the weight I want to lose and move into the maintenance phase of being fit. Clearly, I either don’t work out efficiently enough, or I need someone to push me harder than I’ll push myself. Or maybe both. Gather.com actually looks like a pretty interesting site, and really, are you going to turn down the chance at $5,000? Go check it out!

Even better, you’ve got two chances to win stuff! Because even if you don’t win the $5,000, the Boca people gave me a gift bag of goodies to give away. Don’t worry, they gave me one for myself too. It has a handy reusable shopping bag that rolls up tiny and can be stored in a purse, a yoga mat, a date book (John is already mocking me for how much I love this date book, but I say he’s just jealous that he didn’t get any free stuff), coupons for Boca products, Boca recipes and more! All you have to do to get it is leave a comment by Friday, February 20, and I’ll pick a winner at random.

Special Bonus since we’re all Boca focused today – recipes where I’ve used actual Boca products:
Toad in the Hole
Stuffing with sausage

I can't believe I've never posted my recipe for Vegetarian Shepherd's Pie. Look for that coming soon.

While everyone else was resolving to get fit at the beginning of the year and heading to the gym in droves, my resolution seems to have been to see how unfit I could get in a month. I think I made it to the gym five or six times in January. Through a combination of holidays, snowy/icy days, just not feeling well, and having an overwhelming urge to just get home at the end of the day, I really fell off the exercise wagon in January. I wasn't working out at home either. I did that maybe two or three times.

Even as it was happening, I said to myself, why are you doing this? You'll feel better if you go to the gym. Just go. After the first 10 minutes or so, you'll get into it. Or I'd tell myself I know the basement is freezing, but it won't be once you get down there and start doing one of your videos, dummy. But for some reason, my motivation just wasn't there. So I have declared February to be the month to get my old routine back. I started last night, going to my usual Monday night weight lifting class. I'll continue it tonight and do some cardio, either elliptical or the treadmill.

There, I've declared my intentions in front of the entire Internet. That ought to motivate my (currently embiggening) ass.

I usually go to spinning class on Thursday nights. I look forward to it, actually. I like the teacher - he plays good music and he keeps the routines interesting - and going to that class gets me home at a decent hour for Thursday evening TV watching.

The last two weeks I've skipped spinning. Last week it was because I was tired and really wanted to get home earlier than usual. This week it was because I needed to finish up a project that really should have been done yesterday. I got caught up in something else right at 5, which meant that I just couldn't finish my report edits in time to get to spinning. So I ditched again.

The first night I had to make my way past two accidents and a tanker truck broken down in the center of the road so I actually got home later than usual. Then tonight there was a very bad accident and they closed the highway. Everyone was diverted off and detoured on to the local roads. I got home at 9:20.

I'll make sure to go to spinning class next week, I think. Everyone on 270 will thank me, and the universe will know that I've gotten the message. Skipping spinning will get me nowhere fast.

Where did the last week go? One minute it was de-lurking day, and then the next I was really busy, and a whole week flew by. Thanks to everyone who commented. If I haven't made it by your blog to say hello, I will this week.

In the last week, I have:

• Been delighted that Colin Farrell won a Golden Globe for In Bruges. He totally deserved it. If you haven't seen the movie, go rent it. You will love it and thank me. Although be prepared, it is kind of a downer.

• Enjoyed the delicious Cupcake in a Jar that I won for being part of Jenn's Virtual Cookie Exchange. It came from the Bangerang Bake Shop, and it was extra awesome. I got the Berry Berry Dark one. Yummy.

• Made a triumphant return to kick boxing class. I missed two weeks because of the holidays and a third week because I'm not sure why, but I went back this week, and it was awesome. Even if they have switched the orientation of the room so that it is all backwards feeling now.

• Started watching the British version of Life on Mars. This show is really, really well done. The episodes I've seen so far have been well written, complex, and quite funny at times. I'll have to check out the American one to see if it even comes close. I also feel the urge to call everyone "guv" now.

• Discovered a new to me mystery writer. Charles Todd has apparently been writing for years, but I just never came across one of his books before. His Inspector Ian Rutledge character is a man trying to put his life back together and return to civilian life after the end of the First World War. He's a fascinating character, suffering from shell shock, but determined not to let anyone know. The portrait that Todd paints of life after the War is so realistic and detailed that you get completely sucked in to the story, or at least I do. I read the first book in the series, A Test of Wills, this weekend and liked it so much I went and ordered a couple more of his books on Amazon today.

• Seen Bride Wars with a couple of my friends (Hi guys!). It had its funny moments, and I like both Kate Hudson and Anne Hathaway. Definitely a chick flick. I'm not sure there were even any guys in the theater where we saw it.

• Dealt with ONE degree weather. One. Degree. I know, I know, it was like minus 47 degrees in Maine and Minnesota. I feel badly for those people. There are many reasons I don't live in Maine or Minnesota, but now topping the list is the fact that is even possible for it to get to be minus 47 degrees. I live in Maryland, and in Maryland, it is not supposed to get as cold as it was on Friday and Saturday. There were people in my office sitting at their desks wearing hats, coats and scarves. That is too darn cold.

How was your week?

Yes, as Chris reminded me on Friday, it’s that time again. The day where we pause to say hi to the people behind the blogs we read instead of zipping through our blogrolls or feed readers as fast as we can has arrived.

I for one tend to get more comments from Russian spambots that actual people, so I welcome De-Lurking Day. Please, pop out from behind the curtain and tell me that you’re there. This is your chance to say “I hate your stupid recipes” or “Hey, we have similar taste in books. Please tell me more about what you read” or just “hi.”

If you need a specific assignment, you could tell me how your Monday is going. Here's mine: I woke up at 3 am feeling sick to my stomach, but nothing ever happened and I eventually fell back asleep. Now I have a raging sinus headache and a queasy tummy, but don’t feel sick enough to justify skipping work. So I’m about to go upstairs to stare glumly into my closet and pick something to wear to the office. My life is so glamorous.

Now get out there and comment. I promise I’ll be doing the same.

Linda put this questionnaire up, and since I'm on vacation and being lazy, I figured I'd go ahead and answer the questions rather than thinking up something of my own. It turned out to be a fairly comprehensive review of 2008, including some stuff I had forgotten, like what I did on my birthday. Lucky for me I can look stuff up in this handy-dandy blog.

Of course, I kept getting interrupted, and then I had to bake a cake, and then the power kept going off because it is so windy here today, so this took a lot longer to do than I thought it would, and I missed Linda's deadline. But I did all the work, so I'm still posting the answers! Here is my look back at 2008.

1. What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?
Let's see... I made a wedding cake, catered a Christmas party, ran ten miles while training for a ten miler and tried kickboxing for the first time. I fell in love with kickboxing, but I won't be making any more wedding cakes.

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I kept some of them, but others are still a struggle. Maybe I'll just keep working on them in 2009. And probably a couple more besides.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yep, my friend Julie had a beautiful baby girl.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
My uncle Tommy, although sadly, we weren't close

5. What countries did you visit?
England! And it was fabulous.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
Well, I'd like to have a baby, or at least get pregnant and be on my way to having a baby by the end of 2009. And I'd sure like a nice, stable stock market so I can have some job security.

7. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
November 19th, for the layoffs, November 22, because I had a great idea that day, and April 28th, the day we landed in London.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Probably that wedding cake, although I'm pretty proud of running ten miles too, because I really did not think I could do it.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Well, I spent most of the year moving in the opposite direction of my goal weight, which sucks. I feel like I let myself down. But, I am back on track.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I fell and hurt my knee while training for the Cherry Blossom Ten Miler, which a) hurt and b) made it impossible for me to run the whole ten miles on race day. But, even though I didn't get to run the race I wanted to run, I finished, and I was proud of that.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
It is a tossup between my new camera and my ginormous red patent leather purse.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
The American people's behavior, for electing Barack Obama.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Giant greedy corporations refusing to make sacrifices and begging for massive bailouts while ordinary Americans lost their jobs, their health insurance and their homes, with no help in sight from their government.

14. Where did most of your money go?
To my mortgage. And then probably to food.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Our trip to London, my college reunion, running ten miles, visiting my brother in Portland, kickboxing.

16. What song will always remind you of 2008?
Supermassive Black Hole and that damn Kid Rock song about Sweet Home Alabama.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? This is a tough one, as I've had a rough fall. I'm happier about some things, but sadder about others.
b) thinner or fatter? Slightly fatter, but THANK GOODNESS, almost back to where I started. Now I just have to keep my momentum going.
c) richer or poorer? Richer.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Relaxing, travelling, having fun, chasing my dreams.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Stressing out about things that are beyond my control.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
With family.

21. Did you fall in love in 2008?
All over again.

22. What was your favorite TV program?
Terminator, the Sarah Conner Chronicles, the Office, Sons of Anarchy, True Blood, Life, Torchwood (although I'm still pissed about the finale)

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Eh, hate is such a strong word.

24. What was the best book you read?
North River, by Pete Hamill. And fine, the Twilight books. Shut up! I loved them, and I don't care if you mock me. Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book. Jim Butcher's latest books, Small Favor and Captain's Fury. Charlie Huston's Joe Pitt books. Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food. I read a lot. I love books. I can't list them all here.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
There must be one, but I'm drawing a complete blank.

26. What did you want and get?
Lots. And I'm grateful for it all.

27. What did you want and not get?
We talked about buying a new house, but put that off, because the timing did not seem right.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?
In Bruges was my favorite movie of 2008, without a doubt. Slumdog Millionaire was a close second.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I ate Indian food and brownies. I turned 37.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Losing weight instead of gaining weight.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
I tried new stuff in 2008. Since high school, I've followed a "you can't go wrong with black" philosophy, and I decided it was time to branch out into some clothes with color. No crazy patterns or foofy ruffles mind you, but I did some experimenting. It was fun, I got a positive response from people who noticed and I'll keep doing it in 2009.

32. What kept you sane?
Exercise, my husband, my beloved dog, and my very good friends.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I think I watched every interview with the cast of Twilight that the Internet had to offer. *Hangs head in shame.* In my defense, the week the movie came out I was desperate to not think about the layoffs my company had just announced.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?
That would be the election.

35. Who did you miss?
My friends. We're all so busy now that we don't get to see each other nearly enough, and we're scattered all over the country.

36. Who was the best new person you met?
I clearly need to work on meeting more new people.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008.
You can accomplish a lot of if you stop doubting yourself and just go for it, including running ten miles and making a wedding cake. I plan on applying that to new challenges in 2009.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
I'm not sure there is one. I had a complicated year. Plus, the only ones coming to mind are AC/DC lyrics, which don't really apply.

Here's to a geat 2009 for all of us. Happy New Year!

This past weekend we purchased and decorated our Christmas tree, and I didn't get too bitchy while I wrestled with the lights. I actually bought a couple of presents. I even started thinking about which cookies I will bake this year. I'm still struggling to get into the spirit of the season, but I'm working on it.

I have a long way to go, and a lot of presents to buy. My mom is being particularly unhelpful and not really giving me any suggestions. She had mentioned that she'd like home delivery of the Sunday New York Times, so I looked into that this morning. Do you know how much that costs? $6.40 per week! For ONE paper! Clearly, the New York Times has a very high opinion of itself. I don't care if it is the "all the news that's fit to print" it is not worth $6.40 per Sunday. So, yeah, back to square one on gift ideas for mom. I have no idea what my dad wants either. Or anyone else for that matter.

And only nine days left. I wonder how much I can order online tomorrow.

For my pal Becky, who has known me for years, but who has never seen me with straight hair, because I am too lazy to go to the effort of blowing it out straight myself:

Now you know!

It's a well established fact that I'm a terrible sleeper. I've spent many a night lying in bed with my mind going a million miles a minute, unable to stop thinking and go to sleep. Lately my anxiety levels may have been running a bit higher than usual, what with layoffs and the economy and the stupid stock market combining into an unstoppable force bent on keeping me awake.

Over the years I've learned to at least distract myself from going around in destructive circles like that. So instead, I think about something else. I have fake conversations with people - sometimes people I know, sometimes celebrities or public figures I find interesting. I write copy. I make up stories. Whatever it takes to eventually calm my mind down so I can fall asleep. Lately, perhaps because I've run out of ways to say "This is an unprecedented situation, fuck if we know what's going to happen next. But don't give up on stocks just yet!" I've taken to thinking about marketing challenges that don't relate to my job. Specifically, how to market movies.

I got started thinking about this topic after seeing a trailer (twice!) for some new Nicholas Cage movie about numbers buried in a time capsule and then they are dug up and they seem to predict natural disasters or something. They did a terrible job with this preview. I still have no idea what the movie is about or why on earth I would want to go see it. Then I started thinking about what the website for the movie should have on it to convince people to give it a shot. The best I could come up with was some sort of interactive "punch in a date and see what disaster is going to happen" kind of widget. I think I need to know more about what the plot of the movie is.

So then I started thinking about how Summit Entertainment just announced that they are going to make New Moon, and how they will want to keep the momentum they've got from Twilight going and how there will probably be pressure to equal that $70 million opening.

Now that's a movie I understand how to market. In my head, I have built these people - and I don't know enough about the movie industry to know whether it is the producers or the distributors who would be responsible for a website - a site for New Moon that rocks. It is very web 2.0 and totally designed to build buzz and keep Twilight fans engaged and excited for however long it takes to get the next installment of the franchise ready. I've got it all mapped out in my head, and I have to say, I've done a pretty impressive job. Too bad it will never exist!

Now if only I could find a way to use my powers of insomnia for good, instead of plotting imaginary websites.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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?

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.

A very dear friend of mine from middle school's mom died this past Sunday. She'd been ill for over a year now - a long, slow, cruel decline that was particularly hard on the whole family. She was a genuinely wonderful person, a truly kind, encouraging and enthusiastic woman who will be missed by everyone who knew her.

Between the viewing last night and the funeral and the reception today, I've had quite the tour of my childhood. I saw people I've known since kindergarten and first grade, including the "other Hillary" who I had many of my birthday parties with and the first boy I ever kissed. Plus their parents. And friends from high school. It is weird to see them all grown up, with kids and careers.

Then today I went to the funeral in the church up near my middle school, to the cemetery right by the house where I grew up, drove past Kennedy High School where many of my friends went, past the turnoff to my friend Laurie's house (Laurie being most notable for having introduced me to the wonderful Mr. Penguin) and to Columbia, where so many of my elementary and middle school friends lived. The reception was in a historic house in Vantage Point, a neighborhood where friends of my parents lived. One year in that house the kids put on a Halloween show for the parents. I particularly remember turning Blondie's Call Me in to Kill Me, which we thought was very spooky. I drove past Running Brook, which has the distinction of being the neighborhood where I went trick-or-treating for the last time as a kid. At the reception I swapped stories with old friends and their families, remembering events I hadn't thought of in years.

I'm sorry it had to happen this way, but it was nice to see everyone and be reminded of my past.

On Friday, my knee got really achy and I couldn't figure out why. We'd taken Seamus for a hike in the woods, but it wasn't a very strenuous hike, and I'd deliberately chosen to not work out because I felt like my body needed a day of rest. My knee still gets stiff or a little sore from time to time, but mostly it hasn't been giving me much trouble.

Then on Saturday it poured for most of the day. Mystery solved!

Last night, my knee got achy again, and again, I wondered why. This morning when I woke up, it was raining.

Who needs Doppler radar? The knee knows.

Forget pondering whether or not there is justice, if thinking means you are, or who should control the means of production. The questions we have to answers in today's world fall into a whole new dimension.

For example, there is the problem of when to buy Halloween candy. Make your purchases too early, and you'll just end up eating the candy before Halloween. Wait too long and you'll get stuck handing out weird and irrelevant candy that no kid wants, like Bit O' Honey and Raisinettes. They've pretty much started putting the candy out in August now, so you have to resist for quite a while. I'm may be pushing my luck, but I think I'm going to grab some candy this weekend. I'll just tuck it in a closet and try not to think about it until Friday.

Then there's this problem, which may not apply to everyone. Is the benefit of adding a morning workout completely undone if by 2 pm you are so tired that you are forced to turn to Starbucks in order to prevent a faceplant on to your desk? I managed to get up and exercise three out of four mornings this week, but it is completely sucking the life out of me. I don't understand why an evening workout is usually energizing, but a morning workout makes me a zombie (minus the appetite for brains).

While pondering the following excerpt from a review in the Washington Post of AC/DC's new album

"But mostly, 'Black Ice' contains songs about rocking. Specifically, about how much AC/DC rocks, how much it's rocked in the past and how, if given the opportunity, it plans to rock some more in the future."

John and I invented the following koan: What is the state of the world when AC/DC stops rocking? Much like the sound of one hand clapping has never been heard, this state has never been achieved, because AC/DC always brings the rock.

And finally, I'll leave you with two interesting links that people have sent me recently:

David Sedaris wonders how anyone can still be undecided about who they are voting for, a question I've asked too.

Michael Pollan outlines the plan he'd like to see the next President follow for our new food policy.

John and I were supposed to go out of town this weekend, but ended up canceling our trip. I decided to keep my vacation days though, so I'm headed in to a luxurious four day weekend. Hope yours is lovely!

That last post is proof that I can't turn a partially formed thought into a coherent piece while also watching the debate and commenting on every answer while also trying to come up with a smartass funny fake answer to each question. I struck gold on a few of those, but unfortunately, my concentration was not on my writing. And on top of that, I had gotten up early to get in a pre-work exercise session and then went to kickboxing class after work, so I was tired. Instead of the intelligent and insightful post that was in my head what came out was kind of an incoherent mess. Sorry.

I really do need to start making some sort of morning exercise a regular part of my routine, because while I feel like I get stronger and more fit every day, I am not losing any damn weight. I already work out most nights after work, so mornings are all that are left. The problem being that I hate mornings. Yesterday I meant to get up and do 30 Day Shred (30 minutes that will kick your ass like you wouldn't believe) but I was so sleepy I was worried I might do myself bodily harm. Confidence was high that I'd whack myself in the head with a hand weight, and wouldn't that be a crappy way to start off my day. So I rode the exercise bike instead. Good, but not as good as 30 Day Shred. It's just so dark out in the mornings now. My internal clock is set to dark=stay in bed. This morning I didn't quite make it out of bed early enough, but I'll try again tomorrow.

Speaking of today, apparently today was Bosses Day. My team took me out for a surprise manicure, which was very sweet. I now have freshly manicured fingernails painted a loverly shade of dark blue. My team rules.

My mood has been a bit uncertain lately. Just ask my poor husband, who has had to put up with my sudden obsession and random hostility over where the Christmas tree will go. In two months. If there could be a physical manifestation of my mood, it would be a sullen, spiky black cloud with bad hair, bags under its eyes and a scowl on its face. I’m outside of my comfort zone in my new role at work, which is good for me and my career growth in the long term, but stressful. I’m pissed off about my lack of weight loss, and my infertility has really been getting me down. I don’t know why sometimes I care more than others, but that’s the way it goes, and right now caring is on the upswing. On top of that, I had a bizarre bruising incident after getting blood drawn. I am not even exaggerating when I say that about 1/5th of my left arm was covered in bruises and very painful. Every time I rolled over at night (and I roll over a lot) I woke up, so I didn’t get enough sleep for about a week. And I was having anxiety dream after anxiety dream. I’m assuming the pain was causing that. Thankfully the bruises have faded and I’ve actually gotten some rest the last couple of nights.

The needle started swinging in the other direction at some point yesterday. Who knows why, although we did settle the burning Christmas tree issue. I’m sure you’re all very relieved. However, as I headed off to work this morning, already nursing a headache because the weather was changing, I turned on the radio and heard: world markets down, futures down, Fed rate cut, markets and futures up! No wait, markets and futures back down. As soon as they said the FTSE and the CAC had zoomed up and then down over 5% even after the rate cut, I said to myself “oh, it’s going to be one of those days. Fuck it, I’m going to Starbucks.” It is so hard to know what to say to people about the stock market when it changes every 15 minutes.

The drive through at Starbucks was packed, so I pulled in and parked next to an older looking Subaru station wagon. As I got out of my car, I noticed it was packed with stuff. As I walked toward the back, I could see that there was a mattress and pillows and blankets in the far back of the wagon. Someone was living in that car. You know, theoretically, that this is happening. That the numbers in the stock market indices and the foreclosure statistics translate in to real losses for real people. But it hadn’t hit home for me yet.

Suddenly my life started looking pretty good. And today, I worked really, really hard to be grateful for all that I've got.

I have a new job. Same company, new role, blah blah, leaving the details vague because I like my job and I want to keep it.

However -- and I think I can share this without crossing any work boundaries -- I realized the other day that I now have virtually the same title and even some of the same job functions as Don Draper from Mad Men. Minus the chain smoking, constant boozing and womanizing, of course. Now I just have to figure out how to fit a small wet bar in to my cube. And get a fedora. Don Draper always wears hats.

On Saturday night post-wedding we headed out for an evening of bar hopping. Mike, aka the groom, worked in the restaurant business in Boston for years so he knows everyone. He’s also a great guy, so everyone is happy to see him. They were playing one of my favorite songs as we walked in to the first bar, which I took to be a good sign. And we had a really great group of people – smart, funny, good conversationalists – including a couple of people I hadn’t spoken to in 15 years or so.

I was tired, and my feet hurt, and after a while I didn’t care how interesting the conversations I was having were. The bar got hot and noisy and more and more crowded. So we went down the street to another bar. This time I snagged a barstool, so at least I was off my feet. The sparkling conversation continued, but I was seriously flagging. I may have started babbling about nothing. I wasn’t drunk, but I was tipsy. At one point I tottered over to Mike on my sore feet and told him, possibly at length, just how happy I was that he and Jules are together. I meant it, but perhaps not quite as emphatically as it came across.

By then it was after midnight and the group was ready to move on to the third bar, which was also a nightclub. I really wasn’t up for dancing. And I think I’d been up for almost 21 hours at that point. So I took a cab back to the hotel, washed my face and collapsed into bed. Ok, first I wasted some time trying to take a photo of myself in my outfit to show John and Becky (Becky being the person who suggested the store where I got my top) like they would never see it in person. It wasn’t a magical Cinderella-style disappearing top. Except, you know, I’d had a few drinks and I kept either blocking myself in the mirror by holding the camera in the wrong place or by forgetting to turn off the flash. I wonder if that is easier sober.

Back in college I was a hit multiple bars, close down whatever bar I was in, find an after hours club or party and then go get pizza or IHOP and roll in as the birds started to chirp kind of girl. Even when we stayed in the dorms or at someone’s house, I was up and in the thick of things all night long. I guess with being in Boston and being with some of my old crowd, I expected to feel the same way. But even though Saturday was a fun evening with people I really like and in cool bars where we were getting high quality food and drinks at a discount, I could have had just as good a time sitting on the couch with John, watching cheesy British sci-fi TV shows.

Just one more sign of my advancing age. I think I’m ok with this one though. I like my life a lot more now than I did when I was 22.

I have a digital camera that is at least five years old. In digital terms, that's practically from the Pleistocene era. Lately I've been having trouble where at least half of my photos are coming out poorly. This is because the camera now takes forever to figure out the light levels and then set off the flash. A bunch of my photos from my college reunion didn't come out because people thought they had taken a photo when they hadn't. And then there's all the pictures where people are making weird faces because they had to wait and wait and wait some more for the camera to actually take the photo. It kind of defeats the purpose of taking pictures.

I researched it, and apparently this is something that happens with Canons when they get older. So, ok, perhaps it is time for me to get a new camera. Do you like your camera? Would you recommend it?

I have been a purse buying tear over the last year and a half. I went from not buying any for years to suddenly racking up a total of seven. It started somewhere around the time that I made this purchase.

After I bought that bag, Coach kept sending me coupons. So I bought a couple more purses – they do come in so many different and pleasing colors and styles – and a wallet. And then I picked up this out of season Kate Spade bag I’d always liked on eBay. This spring I made my slightly tipsy assertion in Vegas that I was going to go gamble and win money so I could buy a Louis Vuitton purse. Well, I never did win any money. Gambling is just not fun for me. At one point, bored and bitter after my flight got delayed I was actually up about $17 on the slots at the airport, but $17 isn’t getting me any purses. Actually eBay came through again there, and I acquired a Cabas Piano bag that I absolutely love. It is the perfect size, shape and weight purse. Seriously, if that thing ever wears out, I’m buying another one. That’s how much I love it.

Lately I’ve been eyeing an absolutely adorable red patent leather LAMB bag. I’ve wanted something red patent leather for a while. I could never quite justify spending money on shoes though, because really, how much use am I going to get out of red patent leather shoes? A bag, however...

So I watched it for a while. Then I found out my friend Laila had bought the exact bag I wanted, but in green. She loved hers. Still, I waited. I was very disappointed in Nordstrom for not including it in their Half-Yearly sale. I even dragged poor Becky in to my obsession with this bag. Which is why, when she got a coupon from Bloomingdales today for a 15% discount and free shipping, she immediately sent it my way. And I pounced. My new bag arrives on Monday!

But that is it. I am done with buying purses for a good long while. I have enough. I have more than enough! In fact, I just remembered I bought a clutch to take to England with me, which brings my total up to eight.

There are two exceptions to this rule, which I will lay out ahead of time.

1) Should I actually ever get knocked up, I reserve the right to spend a ridiculous amount of money (ridiculous to be defined by me) on a diaper bag

2) In the extremely unlikely event that I get invited to a fancy shindig, I may need to buy an evening bag

Aside from that though, I am publicly declaring a purse moratorium. You all heard me. I'll just have to find something else to blow money on. Or perhaps I'll try this newfangled thing I've heard about called "not spending money on fripperies."

I just took Excedrin PM in an attempt to defeat this sinus headache that has been plaguing me all weekend, so I have about half an hour until I can no longer keep my eyes open. I’ll try to type fast. It’s always the sinuses on the right side of my face that give me trouble. The left ones are very well behaved, but the right ones have a serious attitude problem. I’ve had about enough of their nonsense, let me tell you.

Anyway, I went grocery shopping this afternoon. First I went to the organic market, which was strangely crowded, short staffed and out of some stuff I wanted like peppers and blueberries. So then I went to the regular grocery store, which was also really busy, although better staffed. Not only was there just one register open at the organic market (although to her credit, the poor cashier kept paging other people to come up to the front of the store, and they kept ignoring her) but the guy in front of me in line said his wife had his wallet, but she was in the bathroom. Then she finally came out of the bathroom, and she didn’t have his wallet. And she didn’t have her wallet, so they sent one of the kids out to the car. Luckily for me, at that point the cashier suspended their sale and rang me up. I was trying to be gracious and patient, but what I wanted to say was “get your shit together, losers!” Part of me wondered if it was some sort of scam, but I think maybe I’ve just watched too many episodes of Hustle.

Now, at the organic market I have reusable bags to use, and they give me a 10 cent credit per bag. The Giant and Whole Foods also encourage you to get the reusable grocery bags, and I think they’ll give you a credit too. My question is, is it rude or somehow bad form to use a reusable bag from another grocery store? I can’t help but wonder if the Giant people would give me the evil eye for using a Whole Foods bag. If they truly care about the environment, that would be one thing, but I think they really just want to sell me their reusable bags. Would you use one store’s bag at another store? Discuss in the comments, please!

I’ve been busy. Busy and tired, which does not lend itself to good blog writing. But now here I am, back and ready to rock.

Let’s see…

The great ant invasion of 2008 seems to have abated. John discovered there was a lot of activity under the sink, so we concentrated our efforts there, which made a difference. Let’s hope our many-legged friends stay away.

Also, my poison ivy/insane bug bites/itchy arm plague finally went away. My left arm is now a little dry and scaly, but on the road to recovery.

Last week’s kickboxing class was taught by a sub. A sub who almost killed Becky and me. My legs were so sore that I practically fell over when I got out of bed on Friday morning. Tonight’s kickboxing class was taught by the usual guy, and it was so much fun! It was still a workout, but neither one of us felt ready to keel over at the end. I was sure the guy totally hated me at first, but he turned out to be really nice. We kicked, we jabbed, we punched, we stomped. I’m kind of a girly puncher, but a pretty darn good kicker. I also got confused about which hand I should be punching with when, but I’m hopeful I’ll catch on with practice.

In other news, I made a wedding cake. My friend Jules got married last December. Now she and her husband are having a party for her family, and she asked me if I would make the cake. I’m a good baker, but a wedding cake is a whole different story. My cakes are usually delicious, but decorating is not my strong suit. Plus, wedding cakes are BIG. So last weekend I baked a practice cake. I didn’t make the entire cake, but I made two tiers. Check out the before photo with the huge pile of pre-baking ingredients.

It took me all weekend to bake, no exaggeration. By the end of the weekend I totally exhausted and passed out on couch at 9 p.m, right in the middle of the Sarah Connor Chronicles, which is a high-energy show. At times I was convinced the cake would be a complete disaster, but it came out ok in the end. The cake was delicious, and not too ugly. I do now know that my wedding cake was worth every single penny I paid for it, and perhaps more. Jules’s cake will be a 3 tier strawberry vanilla buttercream cake, which is the top tier of the cake you see here on my practice cake.

The bottom layer was a lemon cake with raspberry filling, but the strawberry was everyone's favorite. So it will be a very tall, white on white cake with strawberries inside. Hopefully it will make it to Boston in one piece for the party.

I also seem to have inadvertently started a rumor at work that I have a wedding cake business on the side, because I put the leftover cake out for my co-workers to eat. I suppose the baking gets easier with more experience, but there's no way I could do this as a sideline. I like having a weekend!

Becky and I have been talking about trying a kickboxing class forever, but for one reason or another, we never ever made it to one. Until tonight, that is. Holy moly, what a good workout! She and I both exercise pretty regularly – Becky way more so than me to be fair – and we both struggled to keep up with the instructor. Now, the woman tonight was a sub for the usual guy, so I don’t know what the class will be like next week. We will most definitely go back for more though. I guess this is why they say you should keep changing your exercise routine. I think I’ve discovered new sets of muscles that I’ve never used before.

One of the people on my team at work had been to this kick boxing class, and she told me it didn’t involve much cardio. Right. The class started off with five straight minutes of jumping rope. I’m sure it will come as no surprise to anyone to learn that I can’t actually jump rope. That requires WAY more coordination than I have. I had to put the rope down and pretend. Whatever. Plenty of other people got tangled up in the rope, so I think I did more reps in than they did. Then we had to do this fast shuffle in a big circle while jabbing with three pound weights. For some reason, I kept ending up next to the instructor, who could shuffle way faster than I could. And then going in a circle made me dizzy. Yes, I’m a model of fitness. Apparently jogging around the outside of the circle is also acceptable, so I did that when I got too dizzy. There was also kicking and punching (naturally) and balancing on a big ball, and lunging and kicking and this thing where Becky had to run while dragging me and then I had to run while dragging her.

At one point, the teacher looked over at us and said “You two are kind of quiet. Are you getting a good workout” as we stood there, red faced with sweat pouring off our bodies, looking at her like she was insane. New rule for any class that may require partner work, as this one did. Make sure you have a friend with you, or you could end up sweating all over some stranger. And being sweated on by them, too. I thought I did ok at the kicking (probably due to all of those years of ballet) but less good with the punching. The abs section at the end was also killer, and I think I have pretty decent core strength. Not decent enough!

Still, I love a good workout. I know, when the hell did I turn into that person? Let’s all just hope I can walk tomorrow!

No, not Seamus. He’s just perfect exactly the way he is. It's me. I live 27 miles from my office. I live even farther than that from my mom, from most of my friends, from the good stores, from my favorite Indian restaurant. I drive a lot. That, along with my environmental worries, is why I bought a hybrid last fall. And just in time too, since I hear it is quite difficult to get your hands on one now.

However, I have never even come close to getting the kind of miles per gallon that they claimed I would get when I bought the car. Don’t get me wrong, the mileage I get is good, and better than I got with my non-hybrid Civic, but it is not the spectacular MPG that one might expect. “No big deal,” I always said, “there are more reasons than just MPG to buy a hybrid.”

Of course, the problem had very little to do with the car or marketing claims (although I do think they exaggerate a bit) and a lot to do with the fact that I’m a speeder. Yep, I drive fast. Way faster than I should. Well, I generally don’t get to speed in the mornings, since that is when I spend my quality time sitting in traffic on 270. But I typically stay later at work or go to the gym, which means that there is more open road available on the drive home. However, everyone says that driving slower helps improve your fuel efficiency (pesky rules of physics), so I’ve been trying – really trying very hard – to stick to the speed limit lately.

And what do you know…it makes a pretty big difference. This is DC though, so you can’t ever go exactly the speed limit. Certainly not on the highway, but I’ve slowed down considerably. There are even benefits that go beyond using less gas/saving money. For example, I don’t have to worry about getting pulled over for speeding. That’s a nice change of pace. And I find I’m calmer behind the wheel. Since I’m trying to be courteous to the other drivers, I’ve moved out of the left lane to do my slower driving. I just cruise along at my previously determined appropriate speed, paying attention to what I’m doing (ok, perhaps paying a little bit too much attention, as watching the MPG indicator zoom up and down can get hypnotic), and not worrying about the jackasses who drive slow in the left lane and make everyone crazy. And by leaving the left lane, I’m also generally out of the way of the people who want to go 90 mph. That’s not to say that I don’t occasionally zip around someone who is going ridiculously slowly – for example, the guy who pulled in to my lane today and then dropped his speed for no reason. I thought maybe he needed to get over for an exit ramp or something, but no, he was just a moron.

And I definitely backslide from time to time. Driving slow is not as easy as you might think. I’ll look down and realize I’m going much faster than I mean to be, or I’ll see the MPG number start to drop. I’ll keep trying to make a permanent change to my driving behavior. I have no idea if it will take or not, but I’m giving it a shot.

I am waging a losing battle against ants. They are invading my kitchen, and peculiarly, my foyer. The kitchen I understand. There’s nothing for them to eat in the foyer though. We don’t have an overwhelming number of ants, but there always seem to be one or two lurking about on the kitchen counter, just waiting for us to drop something or leave a crumb behind. Yes, even the ants are offering a silent, antennaed commentary on my housekeeping skills.

My fear, of course, is that these ants are just advance scouts for the waiting horde, which will descend on my house and make me utterly miserable. I am generally “Miss Hippie Peace and Love don’t kill anything” but I have been giving killing off these ants all I’ve got. We’ve put out ant baits. Multiple different kinds and brands of ant baits, actually. One with “two kinds of foods ants eat” and one with “quick kill formula” and a third that “targets the queen.” None of these seem to have had even the slightest effect on the ants. We’ll get a brief reprieve, and then they return. I even let John spray some nasty, horrible smelling, packed with stuff that is bad for you ant spray, a product which I am completely and totally opposed to, and it made no difference! Now I just smoosh them whenever I see them. Unfortunately, I have a sneaking suspicion the ants have us outnumbered, and I have no idea what we’re going to try next. Please don’t tell the ants.

Anyone with ant-killing ninja skills, please apply in the comments.

Jerri Ann tagged me for the Six Word Autobiography meme. My friend Becky tried to get me to do that one a while back, and I came up totally blank. I guess I'm just not good at being succinct. Plus, with only six words, I could practically change from minute to minute.

For example, Curly haired, good natured, loves dogs

applies to me today, but so does worked late, went to gym anyway

as does lost one pound, did happy dance

I'd claim to be too complex to be summed up in six words, but the truth is it just doesn't suit my personality. It's why I don't like haiku, or people telling me what to do. As in, Perverse streak makes Hillary resist rules.

What six words fit you right this minute?

So I came back from Vegas, and it was very, very good to be home.

My plane was delayed, which meant I got stuck at McCarran Aiport for a while. Southwest did a wonderful job of quickly getting everyone's bag checked, and then all of the passengers for all of the flights were sent off to stew in the noisy, dirty, smelly, crowded pit of hell that is the C terminal. Every flight seemed to be delayed for one reason or another. The flight to LA, Oakland and Boise had problems with birds. The flight to Birmingham was waiting for a new flight crew to arrive. My flight was held on the ground at San Diego for some reason. Luckily I was flying with three co-workers who I particularly like, so I had people to hang out with. We finally got in around 2 am, which meant I didn't get home until almost 3 am.

Let's see...I started the book Twilight by Stephenie Meyer on the plane, and I absolutely loved it. I'll be picking up the rest of her books for sure. It's a new twist on a vampire story, and it is really well done. Her characters are likeable, her plots are interesting, and her descriptions are lovely. It was a nice, distracting read on a crappy flight.

Other updates:
* I went for my knee MRI, which was far better than I thought it would be. I go back to the doctor on Friday for results. I haven't been running, so my knee has mostly been behaving.

* Going to England, coming back for a few days, and then going to Vegas has completely screwed up my body's internal clock. I've lost touch with what time it is and I'm exhausted. It seems to be getting better slowly.

* John and I went to the auction place where we picked up our fancy china cabinet and scored a nice haul of new-to-us furniture. We got a little sideboard that goes beautifully with the china cabinet. We got a really, really nice dresser very cheap. We got a massive credenza for only $10 bucks. And then, what I think is my favorite acquisition -- we got an antique Singer sewing machine table, with an iron base and the sewing machine still attached. I don't think the machine works, but I don't sew, so that's ok. It just looks cool.

* Then I went back to work. To say I have a lot going on at work right now is such a massive understatement that I can barely type it with a straight face. Thank goodness we have a long weekend coming up!

So, what's new with all of you?

...I haven't fallen in to the great Frederick sinkhole:

I've been just a wee bit busy is all, and it is making me less creative than usual. Perhaps even less intelligent than usual. This morning I was so off kilter that I left the house without my purse, drove to the gas station, and then realized I had no money. Luckily, the house is fairly close to the gas station. I had my gym bag and my lunch bag and my radar detector, but no purse. Kind of an annoying way to start my day.

What's the dumbest thing you've ever left behind at the house in the morning?

In a couple of weeks my company is moving to a new office building. We need more space, so from that standpoint, the move will be great. However, we are transitioning to an open floor plan where we will all have workspaces instead of offices. Supposedly it will foster a more collaborative environment. I am a huge believer in the effectiveness of collaborative teams, and I work really hard to encourage it on my projects, but I am also a huge fan of walls, and privacy and being able to concentrate. However, I am keeping an open mind, and we'll see how it goes.

Part of moving to a new building with no offices means less room in which to keep all my crap. I've been with the company for eight years now, in the current building for five years and in my current office for at least two years, possibly longer. The stuff, it has piled up over the years, and I'm not going to have nearly as much space in the new place. I actually made "the list" of people they are concerned about as we get close to the move. Of course, during the week I'm way too busy to deal with sorting through files and reorganizing stuff. So on Saturday afternoon, after the haircut, shopping and lunch with my mom (all of which were fabulous), I headed in to the office to get a little work done and to start my cleaning out process.

Yeah, it took me FOUR HOURS, and I'm not even done yet. I did achieve my main goal of compressing the contents of my four large file drawers in to two drawers. I filled my recycling bin and half of the large one out in the hall. I maxed out my trash can and the very large one out in the hall. I rediscovered projects I had forgotten that I ever worked on, and realized that I was hanging on to a bunch of stuff that held no meaning whatsoever anymore. I have a habit of saving notepads for a while so that I can refer back to old notes as necessary. That is actually not a bad idea for a notepad I have just finished using, but I had 22 pads filled with cryptic notes that don't mean anything to anyone, including me. I'm a terrible note taker. I get too caught up in the discussion and the ideas to take proper notes. And when I do have a complete write-up or summary, I typically tear the sheet off the pad and stick it in the project folder.

Apparently at some point I was worried there would be a shortage of interoffice envelopes (which, by the way, I almost never use) because I found two separate stockpiles of them. I had two rolodexes that I had inherited from employees who left the company taking up space on my bookcase. I found the Franklin Covey organizer that I quit using ages ago because it just didn't work for me, plus a pile of pages for it from 2004. I found massive amounts of samples that I really did not need. Why did I have all of the print PO's for a newsletter we haven't published in years? No one will ever want to see those! I had binders that carefully documented processes that have changed so much over the years as so be completely unrecognizable. What the hell is wrong with me?

I come by all this packrattiness honestly. If you think I sound bad, you should see my mom. She hangs on to everything. And when I say everything, what I mean is everything. Her house is crammed with books, papers, magazines, business cards from some person she met 12 years ago at a party, random files, knick-knacks and more. John and I once figured out that she had 13 different versions of the phone book in her office. We started sneaking them out to the trash when she wasn't looking.

I make fun of her but secretly, I get it. Part of me is convinced that in six months I'm really going to want something that I threw out on Saturday. Every time I have to do something like this, I vow that I'm going to be better going forward. And I am, for a while, but I always backslide. Perhaps life in my luxurious new workstation will finally cure me of my packrat ways.

Except lately, that is. Work got a bit overwhelming last week, as a product I'm helping to launch kept running in to delays. I've been on "well, once we get through the launch, I can focus on that" for a week now. But I think it really will happen tomorrow. When I say that work got overwhelming, I don't mean to give the impression that work is bad. It's not. Work is great. We have a particularly good team right now, which means I get to work with a ton of people who I really like and respect. I have fun at my job. I get to do interesting stuff. But it does take over sometimes.

Last week was actually a fine time for work to take over, because I couldn't work out at all. That freed up some time for me to work late. My knee is finally feeling better now, but it is still not right. I wouldn't dare run on it, nor can I do lunges. I'm giving in and going to the doctor. On top of the knee, my TMJ has decided to act up for some reason. That usually means I'm about to experience some sort of dental problem, but my teeth seem ok aside from the jaw pain. I'm not sure what is going on there. Maybe I'm just stressed out. Happily, I am getting back to some exercising, which will help with the stress.

The only non-work thing of much interest that was going on was house hunting. Tonight John and I went to look at a house that, based on the Internet, looked like it had real potential. The Internet can be a wee bit misleading. I was suspicious of this house because it really shouldn't be in our price range, and I was right. Everything they said about the house in the listing was true, but none of it was exactly as you'd expect it to be. The lot was weirdly shaped, and the other houses in the neighborhood were built all crowded in to the corners of the lots so that they were closer together than we thought they'd be. The house was built more recently than where we live now, but our place is in much better shape. It was just shabby, and the kitchen needed updating, and even though they recently dropped the price, they didn't drop it nearly far enough. Oh well. Looking is fun, and we don't really want to buy until the summer sometime anyway. I think I'll go back to obsessing over model home floor plans for a while.

Anyone have any opinions on which is better, new homes or existing ones?

Yesterday Becky and I had our last training run before the big race next weekend. We only had to do six miles, but she came up here to go running, so they were a hilly six miles. About a mile and a half in, I stepped wrong on the perfectly flat and even sidewalk, and whammo! I went down like a ton of bricks. It hurt, but not too badly. One good side effect of a lifetime of being clumsy and uncoordinated is that I'm pretty good at falling down in the least hurtful manner possible. I twisted my ankle and banged my knee, but after walking for a couple of minutes, I was able to start running again, and I'm proud to say I finished the rest of the six miles.

I was more worried about my ankle, but it is my knee that really started hurting later. I took it easy today, and it is already hurting less, so I assume I'll be in good shape for the race. Falling down aside, Becky and I had a nice run. She took care to point out all potential hazards and obstacles that I could potentially trip over. Sadly, that was not enough to keep me from tripping over this one stake that lay in the middle of the sidewalk. I knew it was there and I still ended up running in to it! That's talent.

After the run, I embarked on a completely different sort of adventure. We're thinking of buying a new house this summer, so we spent the afternoon driving around looking at model homes. Naturally, I have fallen in love with a specific house in a specific neighborhood, both of which are probably too expensive. Part of me thinks we should just hang out in the house we already have. We have a nice little house in a pretty, quiet neighborhood. But the chance to move closer to work while real estate prices are down is pretty enticing. Not that real estate prices in this area have dropped so far as to make moving closer in all that much cheaper.

I have to say, I found the whole process a little disheartening. All of the models are so loaded with options that they actually cost up to hundreds of thousands of dollars more than the base price. It is hard to tell what the house would be like without all that extra stuff, most of which I can't afford, and plenty of which I don't even want. None of the basements come finished, so that's an added expense too. Then they charge extra for certain lots. If someone could explain to me why you can only get gas fireplaces in new houses, I'd love to hear the reason. I prefer real fireplaces. And then there are the people. Everyone is so determined to have a nice chat with you. Really, I'd like to be left alone so I can form my own opinions, and then I'll ask questions if I have them.

We ruled out one neighborhood for sure, and I think we're fairly close to ruling out a second one. That would narrow it down to two neighborhoods and a couple of different builders. Or we could always go with a newer existing home, which might be slightly cheaper than brand new. Or not move at all. Ah well, I don't have to make a decision for a while yet. And now I have a pile of floor plans to obsess over, which is actually pretty fun for me. Yes, I have found yet another way to be geeky.

So how was your weekend?

Highlights of my weekend (the hippity):

1) Successfully running 10 miles. 10! Ok, I probably ran 8.5 miles. Even so, that's really, really good for me. Becky and I did our ten mile practice run on Saturday. It was a little cold, and for a while there it looked like we were going to get rained on, but we did it! If you're from DC, allow me to astound you with our run. We went from the Barnes & Noble in Bethesda to just past Fletcher's Boat house and then back again. As in Bethesda to Georgetown. When Becky first suggested I do this race with her, I thought she was nuts. I thought there was no way I could run ten miles. But it looks like I'm actually going to pull this off!

2) Delicious Easter brunch with my mom. Good food and good conversation. I'll take it. Plus she gave me pretty new earrings an Easter present.

3) When Seamus and I went through the drive through at Starbucks, they gave him a dog biscuit. I expect him to start asking for caramel macchiatos any day now.

4) The end of Lent. I'm not terribly religious - ok, I'm not even remotely religious - but I like the tradition of giving up something for Lent. This year, I gave up buying books. I think it was the hardest "giving up" I've ever done. Today I got to go on a little spree at Borders, and it was delightful. Except for the part where I couldn't find any new mysteries that looked intriguing. Got any mystery book recommendations for me?

Lowlights of my weekend (the hoppity):

1) Even though we ran farther this week than last, I actually felt better physically at the end of this run. Maybe I'm finally building up some sort of stamina. However, my knees really stiffened up overnight, to the point where I woke myself up whenever I bent or straightened them. This morning I hobbled around looking like the Tin Man while walking Seamus. After a little while my knees warmed up so it wasn't so bad, but they are still a little sore.

2) Target was closed, I guess for Easter. If I had known they were going to be closed, I would have dragged myself over there yesterday.

3) For as long as there have been Cadbury Chocolate mini-eggs, my mom has given me a bag of them for Easter. I deliberately did not buy any Easter candy this year because I knew my mom would give me a bag of Cadbury Chocolate mini-eggs, and those would be my Easter indulgence. Did my mom give me any mini-eggs? No! Because suddenly she doesn't want to give the diabetic candy or something. The earrings she gave me are lovely and I quite like them. Unfortunately, now everyone will be out of mini-eggs, and I won't be able to get any for a whole year! Unless Target has a stash since no one could get in there to buy anything today.

4) The jerkward asshats in my neighborhood who were setting off fireworks and terrifying my dog. I may not be religious, but I know Easter is not a fireworks kind of holiday. Those celebratory roadside church signs never say "he is risen, now let's go light some stuff on fire!"

So I've been a little busy lately. Imagine my surprise when I pulled up my blog today and saw it was completely blank! When your job involves giving people advice about the stock market and the stock market decides to lose its fucking mind for an extended period of time, life can get complicated. While I personally don't give the advice, it is my job (in a way) to ensure that advice gets from the advice givers to the customers in a timely fashion. This entails, well, a lot of time and effort on my part, to keep it nice and vague. Although really, half of the people at my company have blogs now, so I don't think writing about my job carries the same peril as it did before. Still, better safe than sorry.

Anyway, work=busy and exhausting. Plus I've been doing the whole getting up earlier thing, which leaves me even more exhausted. And then they (they being the guv'mint) had to go and move daylight savings time up, which means that for the last two days I got up even earlier. I heard an interview with some expert on the radio who said that if you get thrown off by switching the clock forward one hour, you probably have some underlying sleep problem. Well, duh. I could have told him that.

And hey, I turned 37. I ate Indian food and brownies, and got presents, and fielded calls from friends and family. I have no complaints about that, although it is a little weird to be officially in my late thirties. My friend Laila recently came across a videotape from our Beach Week trip after we graduated from high school, and she claims that I have not changed a bit, but I know that is a lie. Back then I was thinner, blonder, and had way less grey hair. Being 18 was fun, but overall I'd say life is definitely better now, grey hair, crazy stock market and all.

A while ago I wrote about how I’d gotten “generation gapped” at lunch with my co-workers. Well, in what is probably a sign of my swiftly approaching decline into senility and being completely out of touch, it happened again yesterday.

One of my team members was telling me about how she read on some blog somewhere that they are developing fancy computerized limbs so that amputees will “have cool new arms like that science fiction guy Luke something.” “You mean Luke Skywalker?!” I said. “You’ve never seen Star Wars?” And no, she never had. And then it turned out that one of my other team members has never the Star Wars movies either. Never seen one! This is inconceivable to me. Star Wars and the Empire Strikes Back and yes, even Return of the Jedi were such a HUGE part of my childhood. I was Princess Leia for Halloween in 1st grade. I remember very clearly being excited to go see the sequels. Apparently not so much for girls who were ten years younger than me.

Now, my brother is around the same age as a few of the people on my team, but he’s seen the movies. Of course, he’s related to me. And evidence from the rest of my team seems to indicate that the younger guys did see the movies, although some of them may be more excited about the Transformers. I do remember watching the Transformers with my brother when he was little, and I have to say, it’s no Star Wars. Although it probably is better than Episodes 1-3, burdened as those movies are with Jar Jar Binks, Hayden Christensen’s leaden acting, and horrible writing. As one of my co-workers put it “After watching those movies, I actually thought Natalie Portman was a really bad actress until I saw her in something else.”

Perhaps I have been confused all these years. I thought all my peers had seen the Star Wars movies, but I could be wrong. Maybe it was just me and my particular group of friends. So I ask you: Did you see Star Wars and do you know who Luke freaking Skywalker is? How old are you (a range is just fine for those of you who don’t want to be specific)? And are you male or female? Now I'm curious about whether it is a generational thing or a gender thing. Either way I'm still the odd one out, but I'd like to know!

My uncle Tommy died yesterday. While it is sad – it’s sad when anyone dies – it’s not for the reason you think. The truly sad part is that I didn’t really know him very well. I could probably count the number of times I spent with him on two hands, or at least very close to it. Uncle Tommy was one of those Vietnam vets who never made it all the way back from the war. All three of my uncles were in the military during the ‘60’s and ‘70’s. I’m not sure if they were drafted or what. Their dad, like most members of his generation, had served during WWII, fighting in the Aleutians and then going to Europe at some point after D-Day, and my grandma was a nurse in DC during the war, so maybe joining the military was just what was expected of them. Tommy was the only one who got sent to Vietnam though. He was a gunner on a helicopter. I don’t know exactly what that means, but I always picture it kind of like the air cavalry scene in Apocalypse Now.

Of course, he physically came back from Vietnam, but he struggled with alcohol and drugs and PTSD for years, and drifted in and out of VA institutions. I remember hearing my mom and my grandma talking about him being all drugged up on Thorazine but not really understanding what it meant. He married a woman who was involved in some weird cult, and had a son who we only ever got to meet once, although my grandma did get to see him a few more times. Tommy lived a pretty tenuous life, renting rooms, spending time homeless. My mom can’t pass any guy who looks like a homeless vet without giving him money, because they always remind her of Tommy. In the last few years he had settled down to a certain extent. He hooked up with a girl my age (yep, a little weird) who seemed to make him happy. He still struggled with alcohol, and was on disability and couldn’t drive, but they had a place in Manchester together and brought each other some stability. He’d be fine for a while, but he’d always fall off the wagon or get belligerent or just be difficult, so no one in my family had much regular contact with him. His health has been poor for a long time though, and the VA medical care was all he ever really had. At some point last year they figured out that he had something like three different kinds of cancer. My mom is convinced that he was exposed to Agent Orange or something bad during his time in Vietnam. They told him he didn’t have long to live. He made it through Christmas, New Year’s and finally the Super Bowl, and then I guess he just ran out of milestones to keep him going. He wasn’t even 60 years old yet.

I went looking for a photo of him to post here. I thought I had at least one because he came to my college graduation, but I don’t seem to have any. He looked a little like Jerry Garcia, only more New England-ish. One of the clearest memories I have of him is from the family graduation dinner, which both he and his twin brother attended, probably because my grandma was paying. It was at this awesome Chinese restaurant outside Boston called Kowloon, which looks kind of like a temple from the outside and has outrigger canoes and tiki bars and palm trees inside. Because we were all smokers at the time, I ended up down at the end of the table with Tommy and Teddy and Teddy’s girlfriend. They all knocked back Mai-Tais and traded jokes, and I tried to fit in with the grownups. My brother and my cousins ran around, and I chatted with my mom and dad and aunt and grandma and got to see what it was like to be part of a big family for once. It was nice. I’m glad I have one nice memory of him.

As I said earlier, what really makes me sad about this is that I never really knew my uncle. He went off to war as a bright, promising young man, and it totally ruined the rest of his sad, too-short life. And that, more than anything, is why I am against the Iraq war. Why are we doing this to more of our young men and women? What are we accomplishing by being there? Iraq hadn’t attacked us. Do I have to point out again that they didn’t have anything to do with 9/11? They didn’t have weapons of mass destruction, and their vaunted army really wasn’t all that much of a threat. It’s all such a stupid, pointless waste of lives and talent, and I don’t want one more person to have to go through what my uncle Tommy did.

I've been trying to hold off and only post when I have the time and energy to spend on carefully writing something that might actually involve creativity and improving my writing, rather than the quick hit type posts I can put up without too much effort...

...but I had a filling removed and refilled today, and I'm kind of in pain and tired, and this one was just too classic to skip.

As I'm sure I've mentioned a time or two, I am not a morning person. I've been trying to improve on that, and get up a little earlier each day, in hopes of eventually being able to get up early enough to fit in 20 to 30 minutes of exercise time. It's not going very well. I am not meant to be up early! Mostly it seems to be adding to my general sleepiness and crankiness, rather than making mornings easier to deal with.

Take today, for example. I got up a little earlier than usual, took Seamus for his walk, checked my blood sugar, packed up a snack to take to work, and then put all my stuff in my gym bag. Or so I thought. Imagine my surprise when I went to get ready for spinning class tonight and realized I had no towel, no water bottle and two mismatched shoes, both of which were for the right foot. Thank goodness I keep a pair of sneakers in the car, and that they'll let you charge a bottle of water to your account at the gym.

Perhaps I should start organizing my stuff at night.

…You really should be.

My mom came over and watched the Super Bowl with us last week. Fox pushed its own programs pretty relentlessly throughout the game, and one of the shows they were really leaning on was The Sarah Conner Chronicles. My mom looked over at one point and said “I hope you’re not watching that.” to which I replied, “Of course I’m watching it! You know I liked the movies.” My mom just shook her head and smiled, no doubt wondering for approximately the one millionth time how she ended up with a daughter like me. My mom is relentlessly optimistic and outgoing and cheerful (well, aside from the obsessive worrying) loves Mary Poppins and My Fair Lady and books with happy endings. She doesn’t like things that are dark, or sad or scary. If you think I’m a big sap who cries over everything, well she’s 10 times worse than me.

And somehow her daughter turned out to be a dressing-in-black, science fiction loving, post-Apocalyptic story enjoying fan of depressing music. Yes, there’s way more to me than that, but I was definitely hooked on the Terminator movies from the first time I saw the original Terminator at some point during high school. Laila and I went to see T2 something like the first night it opened. And I even liked Terminator 3. But then again, I’ve had a soft spot for Claire Danes since the My So Called Life days.

So I was predisposed to like the series, although liking the movies actually made me a little suspicious that the TV show could suck. Luckily, it does not. So far, it has been well written, well acted, and totally engaging. John and I have been fans of the actress playing Sarah Conner, Lena Headey, since seeing her as Ruby Ryder in the BBC show the Long Firm. Another actor I’ve always liked, most recently from Rescue Me, is Dean Winters, who plays Sarah’s former fiancé. The fabulous Garret Dillahunt, who was the creepy Francis Wolcott on Deadwood is the Terminator who is after them. The kid who plays John Conner as a teenager, Thomas Dekker, and the female Terminator (named Cameron, in what I assume is a tip of the hat to James Cameron) who is helping them, Summer Glau, are the real standouts of the show though. You can actually see the potential that John Conner has to be a leader in the future, and Summer keeps the old robot learning to understand humans thing interesting. It even features Brian Austin Green (yes from 90210) in a very un-David Silver like role.

So far the show has combined plenty of action and ass-kicking with thoughtful storylines about what it means to be human, to have compassion with others, and struggling with the balance between the greater good and individuals lives. They haven't gone with a predictable story yet, and I'm really caught up in the series. I highly recommend it!

Everyone I know seems tired and cranky and generally out of sorts lately. They are grumbly and defeatist and glaring at strangers. I'm blaming February. Sure it has Valentine's Day and President's Day and the birthday of one Mr. Penguin, but by the time February rolls around, people are tired of short days, grey skies and cold temperatures. And really, Valentine's Day has the potential to make people more bummed out that excited.

Something is certainly making my coworkers cranky, although there are probably many reasons for that. You hear about how I work crazy hours, but I'm not the only one. All of us are pushing hard these days. Today was particularly fun because we didn't have Internet access for most of the day. Do you have any idea how hard it is for people on the e-business team to do anything when there is no Internet? I got some copy written, which was good, and spent some time messing around in a spreadsheet. Does enjoying spreadsheet time make me an absolutely unredeemable geek?

Anyway, I've got to find a way to fight off the blahs. I think I'm going to get donuts for my team tomorrow morning in hopes of cheering them up. Good morning Krispy Kreme! Donuts are but a fleeting joy though, and frankly, one I won't be sharing (perhaps I'll get myself a donut hole).

Tell me, how do you deal with the blahs?

I left work tonight at 8:55, which sadly was only because they were getting ready to shut down the network for maintenance. See also: So hungry I was about to start gnawing on my own arm, zombie-style. I have a big deadline looming on Friday, so there's been a lot to do lately. I may be just a wee bit stressed out about it all, which is manifesting itself in delightful 4 am wake up calls where I just lie in bed listing off all of the stuff I still have to do in my head. I'm tired and cranky and overloaded during the day which I'm sure is making me a joy to be around. By the time I get home at night all I'm good for is sitting on the couch and staring at the TV. And I'm sure Becky is enjoying my slightly hysterical texting during the day. (Sorry Becky, but it really does make me feel better!)

I am pleased to say that major progress was made today, and the end of this stage of the project is in sight. Soon all of the cool and fun parts of this project that I've been looking forward to and telling people about since last March will start and I'll actually feel like I'm accomplishing something. Once I make it to Friday, that is.

Three things I'm very psyched for that are getting me through the week - 1) hitting the deadline and crossing a whole bunch of stuff off my list 2) the premiere of Lost on Thursday and 3) getting a manicure and pedicure on Saturday. You gotta have goals!

I have a deep and abiding affection for Williams Sonoma. I’ve picked up many a bargain at their outlet store in Leesburg. I’ve been lured in to buying their fancy cake pans (one Easter Bunny, one train set). They successfully converted me from a loyal Maryland girl McCormick’s Vanilla buyer to one who is convinced of the superiority of their fancy-pants vanilla. Their Emile Henry ceramic pie pan changed my pie crust life, and I’ve gotten tons of good recipes off their website. So clearly, I like their stuff.

In fact, and it’s a little embarrassing to admit this, but I treat the arrival of the Williams Sonoma catalog like an issue of a magazine. I sit down and read it cover to cover in a little consumeristic greed fest. There have been plenty of items I’ve looked at and dismissed as being too ridiculously expensive, from the $1,000+ vacuum cleaners and irons to the $400 toasters to the $69 Provence Salt Keeper . Yes, it was really pretty. It was also a little tiny ceramic box. Unless it is continually refilled with salt by magic, I can’t imagine that a little tiny box could be worth $69. However, in the latest catalog they’ve managed to completely surpass themselves in terms of ridiculously overpriced merchandise.

You can get a whopping nine cupcakes from some bakery in California for $59. $59! That’s $6.55 per cupcake. And I bet they charge you shipping and handling on top of that! Do you have any idea how many delicious and gourmet cupcakes I could provide for $59? A whole boatload more than nine, that’s for sure. At the same time, I’m almost tempted to order them, just to see what $59 cupcakes taste like. I mean, I can’t quite imagine how good they would have to be to make them worth that much money. I’m not sure that it is physically possible for a cupcake to be tasty enough to justify that kind of money. But no, I haven’t completely lost my mind, so I’m not actually going to buy them. I will wonder though...

Enjoyable parts of my weekend:

• it is Sunday night, and yet I have one more day off of work. And I got all my errands done yesterday and today, so tomorrow I can be lazy.

• my friend Becky and I went to see 27 Dresses, which was cute. Definitely girly, but a fun and sweet movie.

• I bought some really pretty pink and yellow tulips to remind myself that spring will come.

• the usual good time hanging out with John and Seamus. So far this weekend we have covered nutrition, affirmative action and nature vs. nurture, the lameness of that movie The Terminal (fine actors, poorly written), and the awesomeness of a good belly rub (with Seamus). Oh, and John would like the world to know that the phrase is “the devil is in the details” not “God is in the details.” Tomorrow I will probably get my ass kicked at chess, but I will have fun doing it.

• two good workouts in a row, although no running.

That which I have not enjoyed:

• it is insanely cold here. I know I bitch about winter all the time, but this is ridiculous cold for DC. Tonight, to walk Seamus I wore jeans, an insulated shirt, a long sleeved shirt, a hooded sweatshirt, a full length heavy wool coat and scarf, a padded running cap with ear flaps, socks, winter boots and gloves. And I was still cold! Even Seamus (in his sweater) was like “hey, I know – let’s not stay outside for very long.” I am very fortunate to have been born in the time of central heating, or I would have spent a chunk of my life as a miserable human being.

• waking up at 4:30 am for no apparent reason, and then not being able to get back to sleep for an hour.

• taking down the Christmas tree. Yes, I know it is mid-January. Whatever. It’s nice having a tree in the house. I broke a brand new ornament that I really liked, and then came this close to chucking the tree with the lights still on it, declaring “LED lights are more environmentally friendly anyway. We should just get those.” I don’t know how the hell we did this, but the light strands were practically braided on to that damn tree. I eventually prevailed, but it took forever and now my hands are covered in scratches.

• I failed at making bread again. I don’t understand why my bread always sucks. I’m good at baking just about everything else, but my bread is reliably craptacular.

Now, that may sound like the most boring weekend ever, but I like my life just the way it is. I got to thinking about that after having an interesting conversation with one of my co-workers on Friday. We’d made an emergency run to Starbucks in the afternoon, which I never do, but I was really tired and I had a lot to accomplish before the weekend. I suppose that caffeine may have been why I woke up at 4:30 in the morning on Saturday, but I’m doubtful. I didn’t have any trouble falling asleep, just staying asleep. Anyway, the barista had numerous tattoos and piercings, and my co-worker asked me if I ever wished I could do stuff like that, to which I replied, “I would dye my hair blue in a second if I could.” Which led to a discussion of being a non-conformist in a corporate universe, and how that doesn’t have to be a square peg/round hole type of experience (although in my particular company, it does exclude the possibility of blue hair). I know that friends I had when I was younger would look at the life I have now and sneer at it.

I have a mainstream job and career ambitions and a townhouse in the outer suburbs. I don’t live in a cool loft somewhere, publishing my own magazine while hanging out in art galleries and traveling to LA, London and Paris on a regular basis – or whatever the alternative, punky version of “keepin’ it real” is. My brother likes to tease me and call me a yuppie. I’m not a yuppie, but I have to admit, I never saw myself being the one of my friends who ended up going the corporate route, and even more, liking it and being good at it. But here I am. And I’m happy, and still a creative, non-conformist person even without blue hair, tattoos or multiple piercings. So, even including Christmas tree scratches, botched bread making attempts and single digit wind-chills, I’ll take my life just as it is.

I've been sort of lurking on my own blog this week. Every night I come home, look at my laptop and think, eh, I'd rather chat with my husband...snuggle with my dog...read my book...watch TV. I just haven't had anything interesting to say about anything.

Actually, I'm having similar problems at work this week, where I've been churning out line after line of uninspired dreck every time I sit down to write something. It's getting kind of annoying actually. And on top of that, I've been so busy that I haven't even made it to half of the blogs I usually read. You've probably all gone and gotten new jobs, new hair, announced you're getting married or having babies or moving, and I have no idea.

But then I heard from Chris that he was going to bring back de-lurking day and thought it was just perfect timing. I will make the rounds today at lunch and comment my little heart out. Who knows, maybe I'll even pick up a few ideas along the way. And if you happen to stop by here today, please feel free to say hi in the comments.

Duh. As my brother pointed out in the comments on Miserable, SCT is Scotland, as in the country a chunk of my ancestors came from, which I could have figured out if I had given even three seconds of thought to the Burns Night (SCT) holiday listed on the calendar for later in January.

Boy do I feel dumb now.

John and I celebrated New Year’s Eve in what is becoming our new tradition – I made a mini-appetizer feast, and then we hung out in front of the fireplace, enjoying the fire, watching TV, and snuggling. It was a lovely evening, but I actually cried a little bit right at midnight. 2007 was a tough year for a lot of reasons, so part of me was thrilled to say goodbye to it. At the same time, somehow, there was good stuff too, and it was hard to believe another whole year had come to an end. And on top of that, it felt like the year ending made Nora’s death even more final. I know that’s not logical, but that’s what was going through my mind.

But time marches on, and the new year is here, which for me means it is time for a new list of resolutions. I had a big, long list of pretty specific resolutions last year. I kept some of them and missed on some others. I don’t think I’m going to be that specific this year, with one exception. I absolutely, 100% intend to run the Cherry Blossom Ten Miler in under 2 hours. Other than that though, I think I will be more general. This year I’d like to:

1) be a good diabetic and keep my blood sugar under control. Ideally, the blood sugar I had this morning will be the highest one I had all year.

2) focus on being consciously kind to others, from people who are closest to me to people I don’t know at all

3) keep changing up my workouts, and reach my goal weight, finally

4) find that elusive and tricky work/life/workout balance

5) take a fabulous trip to Paris and London with my husband

There. That should be a manageable list, right? Everything else will comes as it comes, and I’ll deal with it then. What’s your philosophy for the new year?

Happy New Year! Now I have to get ready to go back to work tomorrow. Hey, it's an opportunity to work on resolution number four, right?

I had great and grand plans for my crazy 11 days of no work. They weren’t terribly luxurious plans, but I was going to get stuff done. I was going to meet up with friends, and write Christmas cards and get my house organized and play chess with John and all sorts of stuff. Well, here I am on day nine, and I think I’ve accomplished exactly two of the things on my list.

Day one was a total bust, as I ended up working pretty much a full day from home. And that’s on top of putting in a 12+ hour day the day before. Whatever, there were a couple of projects where I had to wrap up my piece and pass them off to someone else before I could put them out of my mind and truly relax. So I got them done.

Days two and three were spent making cookie dough, baking cookies, decorating cookies, and wrapping presents. Oh yes, and let’s not forget making a last minute lasagna.

Day four: Despite my best efforts to ruin Christmas by “doing it all wrong” I managed to save the day with my thoughtful and delicious salad, lasagna and garlic bread. No, we actually had a pretty nice day. The weather was good, and we had a nice visit with John’s dad and then my mom. I cleaned up in the gift department. I now have so many cookbooks we had to rearrange some books to open up a new shelf.

Day five: I woke up exhausted and feeling like crap, and spent most of the day sprawled on the couch, watching TV, whining and feeling out of sorts. I did see The Price is Right for the first time in my life. For those of you just tuning in, my parents had a pretty restrictive TV policy, so there are many, many TV shows that the rest of the world has seen that I have not. I knew who Bob Barker was, and I had seen bits of the show, but I had never watched it start to finish. John tells me Bob Barker made the show more interesting than Drew Carey does. I did start to have fun rooting for people though, particularly this one kid who finally got his shot to go guess the price of something, only to have it turn out to be some lame painted dresser and radio/flashlight/storm kit combo…or so he thought! It turned out there was a car back there too. I was pleased for him when he won. Then it was on to watching Running Scared, which, really America? Did we think that movie was funny in the ‘80’s? Because on Wednesday, it helped me decide that what I really needed was a nap. A nap, followed by more time on the couch, eating way too many cookies, takeout for dinner, and then bed.

Day six: perked up enough to leave the house for a quick trip to Barnes & Noble. Got sucked in to watching part of the Biggest Loser marathon on Bravo. I’m not sure which season it was, but the guy who won lost 214 pounds. 214 pounds! It was pretty darn impressive. Ate leftover lasagna and salad, followed by more cookies.

Day seven: Did some reading, and actually made it out of the house to go running. Wow, did that suck, since I couldn’t breathe half the time. At least they had the gym down to a normal temperature.

Day eight: loaded a bunch of new music on to the iPod, thus accomplishing one of my goals for the week. Went down to my mom’s for her annual Christmas party, which was fun. John and Seamus and I mostly hung out in the basement, watching the Patriots-Giants game, providing score reports for the people upstairs, and eating large amounts of dumplings, spring rolls, empanadas, fried raviolis, crepes and brownies.

Day nine (today!) ran errands and met a friend for brunch. I had orange and vanilla bean French toast with roasted potatoes. Orange and vanilla bean French toast turns out to be very, very good. Even better: Catching up with a friend I hadn't seen in a year. There's something special you have with long time friends that just can't be defined.

That may not be a complete rundown of all of my activities for the last few days, but it covers the high points. Now, I have two days left, and a whole long list of stuff that I haven’t gotten done. Still, I think I’m just going to take it easy, rather than running around trying to cram all that crap in to a very short time frame. Sometimes, you just gotta know when to chillax and embrace your slughood.

I've been pretty much ready to go back to bed or have a nap since I got up this morning, so expecting me to come up with a clever title is probably setting the bar a little high. I don't know why I'm so sleepy, but I have been tired all weekend. I really shouldn't be. I had Friday off of work as part of my annual use it or lose it vacation time dash. I had big plans to get up early and head to the mall before getting my hair cut at noon, but instead I got up, walked Seamus and went back to bed. I did make it down to the salon for my cut and color, which I desperately needed. Happily, my grey is now all covered up and my ratty ends are history. All was not lost on the gift buying front, as I did make it in to Barnes & Noble where I picked up a calendar for my mom and a present (which must remain vague) for my brother. I came home, talked to said brother on the phone, watched the Top Chef holiday special with John, and was in bed by 10:30. See? Tired.

I did get up and out at a decent hour on Saturday. I hit the mall, ready to shop, and successfully spent a bunch of money...on myself. I was looking for presents for people, honest I was. Somehow I kept finding stuff for myself instead. I did eventually pick up some presents, so I guess I won't look like a complete and total selfish jackass. And then I came home and ordered some stuff online. Now I just have to get presents for my nephew and my nieces, a present for John's dad's wife, and one more thing for my mom. And bake 17 million cookies, of course. I like the cookie baking though, so that's ok. Oh, and a present for Seamus, of course. He gets a new stuffed bear to "kill" every year for Christmas.

Of course I didn't get half the stuff done that I thought I'd get done this weekend. I was supposed to have tomorrow off too, but it turns out that I have to go in to work in the morning for a meeting. Just for a while though, and then I have the afternoon to myself. Perhaps I'll get something more done then.

How are your holiday preparations going? Have you been smugly finished for months? Feeling like you've got it under control? Or perhaps you're starting to feel a little pressed for time?

A completely implausible and not even remotely possible scenario that played out in my head while I was washing my hair this morning:

"If I ever put out an album, I think I'd want Jack White to produce it. He did a great job with that Loretta Lynn record he produced a while ago. Or if he couldn't do it, maybe Mutt Lange or Rick Rubin. Or John (my husband, who I'm positive would be a really good producer if he ever took a shot at it) of course."

The most ridiculous part of this musing of mine is not that I will never meet any of those people, excepting John, naturally. No, the most ridiculous part is that I cannot sing, nor can I play any instruments. I am unlikely to ever record an album. Prior to this morning I had never even given a passing though to recording an album. It would be like giving thought to climbing Mt. Everest or being able to fly. Actually, I've probably spent more time contemplating having the ability to fly, which would be both cool and useful, than I have any hypothetical album recording. I love listening to music and discussing music but I do not create music.

On top of that, I don't really know much about Loretta Lynn beyond having seen a couple of music videos from that album she did with Jack White, and, of course the movie with Sissy Spacek and Tommy Lee Jones. I think I was thinking about her because I've been loading more music on to my new iPod and I asked John to pick some songs for a country section because I don't know much about country. Just to be clear, I don't like crappy, lame, overly sentimental country. The stuff I like tends to fall in to three categories: old-timey stuff from the 20's to the 40's that is practically folk music in some cases, a select few artists like Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson and Patsy Cline, and then what is technically alterna-country, like Kasey Chambers, Allison Krauss, Neko Case and Lucinda Williams. John is also responsible for the metal selections, because I am terrible at knowing song names. I generally refer to them with overly complicated descriptions "you know, the song where they whistle like Guns & Roses and talk about Gorky Park. I think it is the Scorpions?" and "that Motorhead one that I like."

At least with John's help I'll be able to identfity them. You know, in case I want to cover one of them on my album.

Recently a friend of mine went out to lunch with one of her male co-workers, and they saw a woman in the parking lot wearing sweatpants. "Oh, that's sad," said the co-worker. "She's in sweats. She's given up." To which my friend replied, "Hey, what do you mean? I wear sweats out on the weekend." And her other female co-worker chimed in agreeing with her. This apparently completely shocked their male co-worker, who was just appalled by all this sweats wearing. Now, he is a gay guy, so I'm not sure if his opinion of what women are wearing will really matter to sweat-pants-wearing-women, since he's not really their target market if they're looking to attract a guy. On the other hand, plenty of gay men are considered fashion experts, so perhaps this is valuable insight.

When she was telling me the story, my friend said, "You wear sweats out in public, don't you?" and I had to confess that in fact, I do not. I own a couple of sweatshirts, which I wear to walk Seamus sometimes, but that's it. I've only ever even owned one pair of sweatpants, which I think had to have for PE in middle school (what is with me and the middle school PE tie-ins this week?) Of course, as soon as I admitted that casual wear for me means jeans, she immediately said, "Oh, right, because of your mom." Everyone reading that who has ever met my mom just nodded and muttered "yep, because of her mom." My mom is very proper. She never goes out of the house looking less than perfect. She never, ever, wears sweat pants. It is only recently that she's bought a pair of jeans, and those are a wild departure for her. She is St. John knits and cashmere, not sweatpants. I spent years rebelling against whatever she wanted me to wear, but it was more that I didn't want anything peach colored or floral, not that I wanted to dress down. Perhaps sweatpants weren't goth enough. Whatever the reason, I never wore them, and I'm not in the habit now.

That does not mean I think there's anything wrong with people wearing sweatpants out to do stuff other than exercise. I'm sure they are comfortable, and probably the right weight to wear in the fall. I say if people want to wear them to run errands or whatever, they should. I don't think it means they've given up. It just means they don't spend every second of their life focused on looking perfect and trying to attract members of the opposite sex. Help us settle this one, Internet. What do you think? Are sweats just comfy clothes, or a sign of defeat? Oh, and to throw you a little curve ball, what about those fancy velour-type sweat suits. They're fancier...but are they fancy enough?

Well, I may have lost my mind, but after spending the weekend thinking about it, I have decided to run the Cherry Blossom 10 Miler with my friend Becky in April. Our goal is to run 10 miles in less than one hour and 50 minutes. I think it is just the thing I need to motivate me and make me push myself again. I’ve just been coasting along, not getting to the next level of fitness, and I’m getting tired of it. If I’m going to do this though, I want to do it right, and not humiliate myself. So, the training begins. I’ve got to build stamina and get faster before I can even start to tackle long runs. And then there’s the matter of hills. I really struggle on hills, and the only way to not struggle is to keep running them until they aren’t so hard any more. Good times.

The race is at the beginning of April, so I’ve got roughly four and a half months. I think that’s enough time. I’m not a great runner, but I’m not a complete disaster. And running 10 miles is something I can be really proud of, as well. If I can run the race I want to run – hell, being able to run 10 miles at all – but really, more running 10 miles the way I want to run 10 miles will mean I’ve finally hit the level of fitness that I want to have.

I’m sure a real serious runner, the kind who covers more ground in one training session than I do in a week, might snicker a bit at that, but I don’t care. This is what I want to achieve. I have friends who have run marathons, and I was proud of them and impressed by them. I don’t really have any interest in doing it myself though. Maybe a half marathon, if I survive the 10 miler, but maybe not. A year and a half ago, I hadn’t run since middle school, and I only ran then because they made me, either through PE or when we were playing field hockey or lacrosse and I had to run up and down the field. By the way, if I sound like a lousy runner, you should have seen me play lacrosse. Wow, did I suck at that.

But I digress. 10 miles. April. Stamina, speed and hills. I can do this. I will do this.

I'm kind of sleepy so I'm taking the easy way out with a collection of stray thoughts in bullet form as opposed to a coherent, organized post.

• I'm finally figuring out the right way to drive my Honda Civic Hybrid. I've been averaging one extra mile per gallon for the last couple of days. Go me.

• I had the distinction of having an employee who just started on October 15th quit yesterday. I don't think it had anything to do with me, (she got offered what she described as her dream job) but it was still a little disconcerting. And so now I'm hiring again. Great.

• Our trip to Europe is back on for spring. Paris, Amsterdam and London, here we come, baby. I'm excited, but also feeling a little anxious about leaving Seamus behind. I know people go on vacation without their dogs all the time, but I just have this feeling of dread about getting someone to watch him. Also, the airfares are more expensive than I thought they would be. Ok, I might need to work on my enthusiasm.

• My friend Becky has challenged me to run a 10 miler with her in April. I'm a little intimidated by the notion, but I also kind of like the idea of going for it. Running 10 miles would be a pretty big deal for me, though. I'd really have to get to be a faster runner, because the notion of running for two hours straight doesn't really do anything for me. Still, it is good to have a goal. I might go for it.

Ok, I'm now so tired that I'm struggling with the bullet format. I'd say that's a clear sign it is time to go to bed. Bonne nuit. Bonne nuit to you all. (Insert gargoyle here)

I have the day off today, which is lovely. I'm probably shooting myself in the foot because my team has an enormous deadline looming on the 29th, but as I said to my boss a couple of weeks ago when I asked for today off, I just need a day.

And what am I going to to do with this day? I'm going car shopping. It's one of those situations where I am excited about the notion of getting a new car, but dreading the notion of having to go to a car dealer to buy one. I'm prepared though. I've done my research, and I know what my car is worth, what the cars I like should cost, and what colors and options I want. I even have a loan lined up already at a very good rate, so unless I can get one of those 0% financing offers at the dealership, I should be all set.

John and I have worked out a multi-step plan that we think will work in our favor. I'm going to go test drive the cars and see what I like. I'll talk to the sales people, do a little pricing recon, but I won't buy anything. If any cars look promising, I'll come back with John and we'll back each other up. We're in no hurry, so we have the luxury of being prepared to walk away.

Wish us luck!

I've always liked Apple products, all the way back to preferring the Apple IIes to the IBMs back in the low tech computer lab in middle school, but I never bought one. My roommate my sophomore year of college had a Mac, and I liked that. However, John never wanted to get one because they don't make the computer games he likes for Macs, so we never bought one as a desktop. When I was looking for a laptop a couple of years ago, I really wanted to get a Mac, but couldn't quite justify the extra expense, because they were a lot more than my little Toshiba.

Then the iPod came along, and just about everyone I knew bought one. I got why people liked them, but the decent sized ones seemed too expensive. When my mom bought my brother an iPod as a graduation gift, I hated it. I was supposed to load songs on to it for him from John's extensive music collection. For whatever reason, I had a really hard time getting it to do that. I kept deleting things by mistake. And I hated the click wheel. So, no iPod for me.

When the iPhone came out, of course I thought it looked cool. But I have still have and like my little sidekick. Plus, again, it was too expensive, and I wasn't interested in switching to AT&T anyway.

Well, that all changed when one of my colleagues brought in his new iPod Touch to work to show off to the rest of us. Holy crap that thing is cool, and wow do I want one! The video looks amazing. The interface is so much better. And the size of the touch is just right. They are still kind of expensive, but I think I might have to get one. Steve Jobs, you've caught me at last.

Last night the challenge on Top Chef was to create something fabulous using the basic ingredients of chicken, onions and russet potatoes. I think the idea was that by focusing on simple ingredients they could really showcase their technical skills for the judges. The chefs came up with some interesting dishes, but none of them made what seemed to be the most obvious choice to me - roasted chicken and potatoes. I suppose it might not be gourmet enough, but they were cooking for French chefs, and you can make a lovely French roasted chicken. It got me to thinking about this Dijon mustard/herbes de Provence crusted roast chicken with chunks of onions and potatoes that I used to make. It was really, really good.

They can do a lot in the fake meat arena these days. They've made a lot of progress just since I went vegetarian six years ago, and now you can get decent fake bacon and "steak" strips for cheesesteak subs and stir fries, fake turkey for sandwiches, and veggie burgers, of course. But there is no vegetarian substitute for a nice roasted chicken.

I'm not giving up on vegetarianism or anything, and for the most part, I don't miss eating meat, poultry or seafood. I guess I could toss some potatoes with mustard and olive oil and herbes de Provence and roast them, but I don't think it will be quite the same.

I ran a 5k today with my friend Becky and her friends. Then I went and helped my mom do some gardening, followed by a quick stop by my mother-in-law’s house, where one of the world’s most useless real estate agents was having an open house. Gosh, the basement smells musty? Well, did the people you recommended to clean the place actually clean it? Because then it shouldn’t smell musty.

Anyway, I spent most of the afternoon feeling like crap, leading to the realization that I’m not very good at running outdoors. Becky’s going to stop inviting me to races if I don’t quit sucking out there, but I really don’t do well outside. Even in the nice air conditioned gym, I try to grab the treadmill that is under the fan. I seem to have trouble pacing myself outside, and I struggle on hills. This morning I got way too hot and had to stop and walk for a bit, although we did end well, picking back up and running the last half mile. We finished in something like 35:50, which isn’t the worst time ever, but it wasn’t great either. I’m sure without me along Becky would have been finished way earlier. Between the running and the gardening – digging holes, planting bushes, and lugging around 40 pound bags of mulch – I was completely worn out.

Two bottles of water, a bottle of Gatorade, a glass of lemonade and a glass of water later, I found myself sitting on the couch feeling dehydrated, head-achy and lousy. Clearly I need to work on building up my stamina. It would be nice to be able to run faster, but first I need to get less wimpy. I’m thinking I might work on some sort of training program and focus on getting ready for a Thanksgiving Day 10k. Hopefully that’s far enough away for me to make some real progress on gaining more endurance.

Hi!

So, I don't really have much of an explanation for why I've been quiet lately, unless "I've been feeling contrary and haven't had much of anything that is of any interest to anyone to say" counts as an explanation. I think maybe I need a vacation, since I'm feeling burned out on just about everything in my life. But it's not all doom and gloom.

In the last week I:

• worked a lot. No surprise there.

• saw Superbad. It was so funny that John actually did the laugh so hard his shoulders were shaking, but he couldn't make any noise thing multiple times. It is chock full of teenage boy humor, which apparently is right up my alley.

• bought new running shoes. I cannot say enough nice things about the people at Fleet Feet. I am by no means a serious runner with my 12 to15 miles per week, and yet they are as nice to me and as encouraging to me and spend as much time with me as if I was a marathon runner.

• discovered that four weeks of careful portion control, getting 100% back in to my exercise routine, and generally being sore, tired and hungry ALL the time has resulted in me gaining five more pounds. I admit I had a brief fling with chocolate chip cookies and sour cream and cheddar potato chips this weekend, but not five pounds worth! I am seriously pissed off at my body right now, but all I can really do is keep at it.

• read a bunch of books. I am now caught up with everyone else from seven years ago and have read Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential. It was interesting and amusing, although naturally I do not share his disdain for vegetarians. I say a good chef can create inspired gourmet food without having to depend on meat, poultry or fish. I do enjoy opinionated writers, even if I don't always agree with them. I also read the last S.M. Stirling book on my list, Conquistador. I liked it. Rather than being a post-apocalyptic tale, this one had people choosing to build a new society through a gate into an alternate Earth. Similar themes, but without as much death and mayhem. He draws such nice strong characters, and keeps the story moving along nicely. It almost makes me wish there was a wormhole in my basement! Plus the book had a twist ending. I do love me a good twist. I also read a new book by Jennifer Fallon, Warlord. She's more of a fantasy author, but I find I'm liking her storytelling more and more with each new book she writes. This one was third in a series, and of course I ended up buying it in hardcover, because I was impatient to know what happened next.

• discovered this site in yet more work related internet surfing. I know, I'm probably the last person on the planet to find it, right? Well, whatever, it's a cool site and I like it. One of the first posts I read was about a short story collection called Wastelands, Stories of the Apocalypse. How could I not like the site?

• and a whole bunch of other crap that would bore you to tears, if I haven't already.

I have no deep thoughts to share tonight. Just wanted to get back on the blogging horse and actually write something for a change. Perhaps I'll try for something more inspired tomorrow.

There was a story yesterday about how one in four American adults had not read a book in the last year. 25% of adults surveyed had not read one book in the last year. That blew my mind. It runs so counter to my own existence as to be almost unbelievable. It is rare for me to make through a day without reading a little bit of whatever book or books I’m currently making my way through. I read everything – general fiction, literature, sci-fi, fantasy, romance, mysteries, graphic novels, history books, books about current events, travel writing, memoirs, biographies, you name it, I probably read it. Except for really scary horror novels, which creep me out too much. Unless they are post-apocalyptic, of course. Then, maybe.

I clearly remember going to the Aspen Hill library and getting my first library card in first grade. I got a Nancy Drew book out, came home, and read it sitting at the kitchen table until I was done. It made an impression. Every Saturday my mom would take me to Cricket Book Shop in Ashton, and I’d get to pick out one book. It never got old. I still get nostalgic whenever I drive past that store.

I was a somewhat solitary kid. I had friends, but I went to school about 45 minutes away from my house, and no one lived anywhere near me. Every day after school I would go to my parents office and wait until my dad was done seeing patients and they had finished up whatever they had to do for the day. I was in charge of making sure all the exam tables had fresh paper on them for the morning. Since the paper was all on rolls, I had it pretty easy. So, once I finished my homework, I would go find some out of the way place to sit and read. There was one particular tree I liked to climb. I’d sit up there reading my latest treasure from the library – Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys and the Bobbsey Twins, Encyclopedia Brown, the “Soup” books, everything by Roald Dahl, Ballet Shoes, the Great Brain, the Dark is Rising, Half Magic…the list could go on for pages. I was a huge fan of the “underdog makes good” type of story, and a sucker for the any story where people had special powers. No wonder I’m a Harry Potter fan now! As I got older and had more control over my spare time, I continued to do plenty of reading. I still do today.

I’ll admit that my family is a little unusual when it comes to reading. My mom owns thousands of books. My brother and I both started reading young, and to this day, we read pretty much everything that’s put in front of us. Books have kept me company when I was lonely, have entertained me when I was bored, have distracted me when I was miserable, and have helped me cope when I was stressed out, and even helped me get healthier. Books open up your mind, take you to new universes, introduce you to new people and new ideas, and help you learn more about your world. It makes me sad to think such a huge percentage of the adult population is missing out on that.

If you’re looking for a coherent narrative or elegant flowing prose, I’m afraid this is not the blog for you today. But I do have a thought or two to share.

First of all, I’ve become obsessed with this site: www.seriouseats.com I came across it while researching something for work (yes, messing around on the internet is part of my job. That’s one of the many reasons I love it.) and I find myself checking it a couple of times a day. This may or may not have a direct impact on how hungry I am, but it definitely has me thinking about food more. Between serious eats and Top Chef, I’m feeling very inspired to do a bunch of cooking. It’s hard during the week because I get home so late, but I may just have to whip up something fancy this weekend.

Second is a question. I’m hiring again, this time for a marketing manager and an editorial assistant, which means I’m reading all sorts of resumes again. One item I’d like to note – it doesn’t matter how impressive your resume is if you put the wrong phone number on it. Just a tip. But my question is this: If you blog, would you reference the url on your resume? I looked at a resume today that listed the person’s website, and when I went to check it out, it was just way too personal. There is some information that you just don’t want to know about a job candidate. There were writing samples on the site too, but it just felt weird to me. My opinion is that unless someone was planning to hire me to write a personal column or a blog, the stuff I write here just doesn’t apply to my professional existence. What do you think?

Another weekend draws to a close, and I find myself wishing for one more day, even though, technically, I already had one. I had Friday off, which was glorious. I lazed around the house, went to the bookstore, and luxuriated in just hanging out and having no obligations. I would like to place my order for more days like that, please.

On Saturday, my mom and I went to the National Powwow, which one of her friends had encouraged her to attend. I was a little worried we'd walk in and it would be "hey, white girl, what are you doing at our powwow?" but it wasn't like that at all. There was a very nice, laid-back vibe, with exhibitions of singing and dancing, and all sorts of people selling arts and crafts. There was gorgeous silver jewelry that I couldn't afford, and absolutely beautiful Navajo pottery that I really couldn't afford, and carvings and paintings and music. Oh, and there was food. I had fry bread with honey, which I would describe as like funnel cake, but better. The texture is more chewy where funnel cake gets mushy. My mom had fry bread with chili and said that was awesome too. But of course, it was the people who were the most interesting.

Suburban Maryland is not what I would describe as chock full of Native Americans. I don't think I've ever even met someone who is an American Indian. Yesterday I got to see people from all over the country, and even from Canada and Peru. I would have liked to have learned more about the different cultures, because you could tell there were pretty signicant differences in the way people dressed and danced. I'm sure some of that is tied to geography -- I get that someone in South Dakota is going to have a completely different set of wardrobe requirements from someone who lives in New Mexico -- but I'm sure there's a lot more to it than that. I guess I'll just have to go check out the National Museum of the American Indian to learn more. I don't think teaching was really the point of the powwow. The point seemed to be to get together and celebrate being Native Americans, which seems like a fine idea to me. It was a very cool experience, and I'm glad I went.

I think sometimes I have to freak out before I can get past my worries and start thinking clearly. And so I did, and now I feel better. Part of that is due to my wonderful husband who said, essentially, "listen, what ever you want to do, I'll do." And so, because that little voice that I sometimes try to avoid listening to is telling me the smart move is to try (no, not try! there is no trying. only doing!) to lose the weight, that's the plan. Take 90 days. Recover the healthy eating and exercise habits I'd built up before Nora's illness. Feel better about my control over my diabetes. Which is fine, right now. My blood sugar is good. But the healthier I am, the better my chances of a) getting pregnant (which there's no guarantee will happen even with IVF)and b) having a healthy pregnancy. I like the plan. I like having a plan. And I love that John's going to be right there with me, exercising, eating salad and working hard to make this happen.

As for work, reports of my frauditude may have been exaggerated. The project that has been making me nuts is now making my boss and her boss nuts too, so maybe I'm not the problem. Also, one piece of it which had been giving me fits -- I just could not get it right -- all came together last night in an hour and a half of inspiration and scribbling on big sheets of paper. Woohoo!

And the writing thing...I'll just have to find a way to fit it in. It's important to me, so I will. Perhaps I'll give up cleaning the house. I hate that anyway. We'll call the filth "bohemian."

Oh, and totally unrelated, except that my brother called me after that last post because he was worried about me and this came up. Anyone got any suggestions about great places to live in the Pacific Northwest? He and his girlfriend were considering a move to Olympia, Washington, but they visited it yesterday and weren't thrilled, and didn't like Evergreen State the way they thought they would. Now they are thinking about Portland, which they liked when they passed through two years ago. Must have a University nearby, as my brother is planning to go to grad school.

I don't talk about work much, but I think people know I am a sort of marketer, which means, of course, that I have to market products. Most of the time, anyway. I've been working pretty hard on a bunch of launches lately, one of which is tied to a specific person. Starting this product was the beginning of a new phase of life for this guy, a culmination of years of work in the financial industry. And on Monday night, less than 12 hours before our first marketing efforts were supposed to go out, he sent me an email saying he liked what I had written, and then had a massive heart attack. The new website and the related pieces of the product were supposed to go live today, and instead, he's clinging to life on a respirator somewhere.

It's very odd, because while I like the guy, and certainly wish him well, I don't really know him. We've never met in person, and we've maybe talked on the phone two dozen times. He could walk right past me on the street and unless I heard his voice, I wouldn't recognize him. And yet his illness has really thrown me off kilter. Part of it is probably because Nora's death is so fresh. And part of it is probably that I care about what happens to him, of course. But most of it is just this notion that he was on the cusp of something new and big that he'd worked really hard for and now...who knows.

I guess I just want to say, take time for the people you love, your friends and family, and do what is important to you. And yes, doing what's important to you can be work, too, if you want it to be. Just choose it consciously. Don't waste time worrying about stuff that doesn't matter, like whether or not you got the absolute best price for something (I can't believe how much energy I put in to fretting over whether I'm paying $2.95 or $2.85 per gallon for gas) or if someone cut you off in traffic, or even whether or not you got the laundry done. In the scheme of things, who cares? Enjoy life while you've got it.

John and I each woke up this morning even stiffer and more sore than we were yesterday. We both spend a little time lurching around like Frankenstein, but eventually our muscles loosened up enough to move. Although my hands, wrists and forearms still scream in protest every time I do anything at all. Like squeezing a bottle of dish soap, picking up a hardcover book or holding a grocery bag. Obviously I need to work on arm/wrist strength!

In other news, we have been slowly making our way through the British candy John's cousin Bobby gave us recently. (Yes, I did make my peanut butter/M&M cookies this past weekend, and they are tasty. What's your point? I can eat a bite or two of candy too.) He gave us, among other treats, a Cadbury sample pack chock full of chocolates they don't sell in the United States. I'd like to know why we can't get our hands on Crunchie bars. That is one delicious candy. Also, Cadbury's, if you're taking requests, please start selling the soda Lilt here. Both my husband and one of my co-workers have waxed eloquently and poetically on and on about the delights of Lilt. I think you'd find there's a market for it here. Plus, they've gotten me curious enough to want to try it.

However, I must say that Nestle's isn't faring nearly so well. Bobby also gave us some candy called Smarties that I think are supposed to be like M&M's. They are not. And they do not taste good. I hope you poor British people get M&M's too, because Smarties are a pale, inferior imitation, like generic soda. Now, American Smarties are ok. They are little fruit flavored sugar disks that come in a plastic twist. Perhaps you have them and call them something else. I remember hearing that Snickers are called something else in England. Now if we just had an American equivalent to the Crunchie bar.

For days now, I've been longing for peanut butter cookies with M&M's as well as brownies with peanut butter chips and chocolate chips.

Why? Well beyond the obvious they're delicious, I have no idea why. Usually I think there's something to the whole "You crave what your body needs" theory, but I'm positive my body doesn't actually need chocolate or peanut butter for nutritional reasons. I can't stop thinking about them though. Last night I made the mistake of going to the grocery store while extremely hungry. At that time, I may have purchased the ingredients to make such delicacies.

And so, after much deliberation, I have decided this: I am going to make the cookies and the brownies, since I conveniently happen to have the necessary ingredients lying around in the kitchen. Indluging a craving of such a long duration is not the same as indulging a whim. I will enjoy said treats in moderation. Perhaps while doing this little dance but changing the lyrics to Peanut Butter Chocolate time.

And then I will take a break from baking for a while and get back to the business of losing weight.

I've been sitting here trying to think of something cheerful to write, you know, for a change of pace. And even though I actually feel pretty ok right now, I'm coming up blank. Let's see. I had a good spinning class tonight. The guy who teaches it has a good sense of humor and also seems to have the same sort of wide-ranging and eccletic taste in music that I have. That makes the class much more enjoyable. Tonight's cooldown song was by The Cure, which I personally felt was awesome.

I'm pleased that tomorrow is Friday. Having yesterday off just made me long for the weekend.

Oh! Becky and I are going to see Carbon Leaf and the Pat McGee Band at Wolf Trap tomorrow. I am really looking forward to that. One of the things I've always liked about Wolf Trap is that they try to class it up by allowing you to bring your own food and wine to eat on the lawn. I'm bringing the fancy picnic basket John and got as a wedding gift. We used it once on our honeymoon, and then didn't look at it again for five years. Well, except for bringing it here when we moved, I guess. Then I pulled out last weekend because we went on a picnic with John's relatives, and now here I am, using it again already.

What are you feeling cheerful about today?

In my teenage years and perhaps a bit beyond, I desperately wanted to be different from the sort of bland middle class girl I seemed destined to be. My parents thought that was all I should ever want. My teachers (mostly) didn’t understand why I wasn’t content, although since I did my work and didn’t cause trouble, they pretty much left me alone. And oh, how I longed to be different or special in some way. I was smart, but I wasn’t one of those kids who wrote a publishable novel at 12 or who got a 1600 on their SATs. I was a pretty good dancer, but I was never even going to come close to being a professional ballerina. People liked me, and I was lucky enough to have some truly great friends, but I was shy, and reserved and lacked that sparkle that so many of the people I admired had. At the time, I tried to be different by dressing in black, piercing my ears a couple of extra times, dyeing my hair frequently and skulking about with it hanging in my face, listening to the Cure and Siouxsie & the Banshees and Depeche Mode and Ministry and the Sisters of Mercy and Bauhaus. I was “artistic”. I smoked way too much. I read Camus and Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir and graphic novels and watched movies like Repo Man and La Femme Nikita and the Hunger. My friends and I would hang around Dupont Circle and Georgetown, wandering through Commander Salamander and Smash and then we’d con our way in to clubs on alternative music nights, trying to look disaffected and cool. Of course, none of that actually made me different. It made me a teenager who was trying to be different. Perhaps I was a teenager with a slightly wider range of experience than some of my peers, but I don’t think I was ever really the rebel I thought I was.

Now, many years later, when all I really care about is being me rather than making any effort to be different, I find that I am. (Of course I still want to be special. Who doesn’t want to be special? But that’s another story.) Diabetes makes me different. I have to exercise five or six days per week, every week, for the rest of my life. It will always be easier for me to gain weight than it is for other people, and it will always be harder for me to lose weight than it is for other people. I will have to work harder than they do just to get to the same place. I can’t go to Starbucks and get a Venti Latte every day like my friends can. Not that I would, since I don’t like coffee, but I do have to justify having half a tall non-fat chai once per week. I will always have to pay attention to portion size. I will always have to count carbs. I will always have to think harder about the food choices I make than other people do. Never again will I unthinkingly scarf down cookies or donuts or soda. I will probably always have to take medication and check my blood sugar.

My ancestry is mostly Irish and Scottish, with a little German and Dutch thrown in for good measure. In addition to ensuring that I have a practically vampire-like pallor, that apparently also means I am built rather solidly and will do well in situations where food is scarce and hard labor is necessary. I suppose you could look at me and say “Now, there’s a lassie who’ll survive a potato famine.” However, since I live a nice cushy, modern, first world existence, chances are that won’t come up. I certainly hope not, although there is always the remote potential for a zombie invasion (have we learned nothing from World War Z?) Seriously though, I realized this weekend that I have to stop pretending to myself that I’m like everyone else when I’m not. Having diabetes makes me different, and it’s time I faced up to that fact and accepted it.

I’m running the Race for the Cure on Saturday with my best friends from college. We try to get together at least once per year. Now that we’re all runners, I thought running the Race for the Cure would be a fun reason to see each other. I’d be doing it without them if I had to, but it will be so much better with them around. They, along with my family and my friends Laila and Mary Pat, are the people who truly get me. They take me as I am…they get my sense of humor…they love and accept and support me no matter what comes. I can’t wait to see them.

The other day someone asked me why I’m running. Here is my attempt at explaining it.

I’m running for my friends, for the possibility that one of them, or even I could someday face a breast cancer diagnosis.

I’m running because college taught me the meaning of sisterhood, and the value of working toward improving life for all women, not just the ones who are my friends.

I’m running because when I was 29 I found a lump in my breast. It was just the first of many, many cysts, but it was very scary for me until I got the sonogram and mammogram that proved everything was ok.

I’m running because my high school boyfriend’s mom got breast cancer the summer before we started college. One day she found a lump. A week later, it was the size of a golf ball and she was getting a double mastectomy.

I’m running because of the accomplishment I feel when I finish a race. A year ago, I never would have thought I could run a 5k, but now I know I can. Even better, I know that running the Race for the Cure is not only an accomplishment for me, but for all the people who are helped by the Susan G. Komen Foundation research every year.

For information on how you can donate to the Susan G. Komen Foundation, go here.

...there's always a meme. Bluepoppy posted this one today, and said that the first seven people to read it should follow her lead and do it too. Or something like that. I considered sneaking away and pretending I hadn't seen it, but upon further reflection, decided it was the perfect solution for me at this time. I've got a couple of fairly serious posts floating around in my head, to go with the serious turn my life has taken lately. At the same time, said seriousness is wearing me out, and I just haven't had the energy or the brain power to spare lately. So, without further ado, I bring you seven facts you probably don't know about me:

1. I had red hair as a baby. Then it went to white blonde, and it has been getting slowly darker ever since. Every once in a while I consider dyeing it red again, because I think red hair looks cool. I think I might make a nice strawberry blonde.

2. Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly unoptimistic about my infertility, I make lists in my head of expensive trips we can take and ridiculous stuff we'll be able to buy if we never have kids. It doesn't really help all that much, because I know I'd enjoy a kid more than a Porsche.

3. I once met Roy Rogers and Trigger at the opening of a Roy Rogers restaurant. Or so my mom claims. I don't remember it at all. I do remember always loading up on pickles at the fixin's bar, the high chairs that looked like horses, and the "holsters" of fries. Good ol' Roy Rogers.

4. I think baby elephants are adorable. I'd like to meet one someday.

5. For a child who was pretty imaginative, I was also fairly uncreative at times. Sure, I was convinced I saw one of Santa's elves at the foot of my bed, and wrote my first "Nancy Drew" novel in 4th grade. I also named my stuffed animals Teddy (teddy bear) Dog (stuffed dog) and my fluffy white hamster, Snowy. There was a fluffy white cat in my neighborhood named Snowy, so I thought it fit the hamster too. If that cat had been named Pistachio, I bet that's what I would have named my hamster!

6. My favorite color is blue. No, green. No, blue. And maybe I like Monty Python too.

7. My lucky number is 11. I could give you all sorts of reasons why I like the number 11, but I prefer to leave it a mystery. Lucky and mysterious - that makes 11 even better.

If you're looking for something to write about, please consider yourself tagged. Just leave a comment so I know to go read your facts. For the lazy or otherwise inspired among you, just give me one little-known fact about yourself in the comments section. It'll be fun!

Well, I've made it to Las Vegas in one piece. I miss John and Seamus already. I do not miss the hospice, or any of the gazillion stressful things associated with my mother in law's situation. I feel a little guilty about leaving, but it's not like I'm here on vacation. I'm not a Vegas vacation kind of person.

I will say that my room here at Mandalay Bay is pretty nice. There's a flat screen TV and a second smaller one in the bathroom. Nothing says fancy like a flat screen TV in the bathroom. My room is conveniently close to the elevators, which will come in handy when my feet start aching after 10 hours in the booth. That makes up for the lovely view I have of the airport runway. Ok, if I stand at the right angle and crane my neck, I can see the MGM Grand, the Tropicana and the Hooters Casino.

Whew, I'm tired. I'm trying to stay up to be on Vegas time, but I think I've made it as late as I can. Vegas, baby! I'm so money, I'm off to bed at 10:15 pm.

I don't drive a fancy car - just a little six year old Honda Civic coupe. It's reliable as hell, it is nice and fuel efficient, and it is even a little stylish. But most of all, it gets me where I need to go.

The last few days I've been driving my mother-in-law's car, which is a little Hyundai Accent. It's actually a much better car than I thought it would be. It is a bit noisy, but the engine is peppy and the car handles well. What's weird is the way that people react to me in the car.

Over the last two days I have been tailgated more aggressively more often than ever before. More people have whipped out from behind me and tried to pass me on the right only to realize there is a car in front of me and they can't get around me than ever before. And more people have cut me off than ever before. Now, a) the car is tiny, so I'm positive they can see around me...b) I'm driving as fast as I ever do in my Honda... c) yeah, I drove in Boston for five years, so I know how to guard the position in front of my car like no one's business. I never get cut off like that.

They must be reacting to the car. People do not respect the Hyundai. I find that so interesting. I've stumbled on this little pocket of unconscious aggression that I never even knew existed. I have to admit, I do tend to assume that people driving Buicks and Lincolns are going to drive slow, but that's based on years of observation. But if those other drivers think I'm going to cower just because I'm in a different car, they are sadly mistaken.

Earlier this year my company was acquired by another company. It's not scary in any way - in fact, it has opened up some exciting opportunities. One of the changes they made was to go from my company's fairly stodgy corporate dress code to business casual. Now, the definition of business casual at my company is still quite a bit dressier than many other places, but it is a change, and I'll take it. However, I've been struggling quite a bit lately wardrobe-wise, because almost none of my work clothes fit me anymore. Most of my suits are so big I look like a little girl playing dress-up in her mommy's clothes. The majority of my pants are starting to look like clown pants. It's kind of silly, and I'm going to have to give in and buy some new clothes.

But that wasn't any help to me this morning. So I dug deep in my closet and came up with an old summer dress that seemed like it would be at least presentable. And because the formerly draconian pantyhose requirement has been lifted, I decided to throw caution to the wind and wear the dress with open toed shoes. I had my doubts because my legs are beyond pale, but in desperation, I went for it.

All seemed just fine, until at one point this afternoon I crossed my legs and realized I had a stripe of hair down the inside of my leg that I apparently missed when I shaved my legs the other day. Nice. And very attractive too.

You can dress me up, but you can't take me anywhere.

Sometime between Thursday night and Friday morning, my Wednesday and Thursday posts just disappeared. At first I thought I'd made some mistake while tired and hadn't posted properly, or something, but I confirmed that John saw them too. And then I remembered that I had received comments on them, so I had proof that they had existed! But they are gone from the site, and gone from my archives none-the-less.

I can only conclude that:

a) my little website here decided to go on a bender and lost the last two days after one too many shots of tequila (possible)

b) inspired by all the alternate history reading I've been doing lately as I work my way through the SM Stirling bibliography, the blog figured out how to generate a wormhole and was transported back to Tuesday in the lamest time travel/alternate dimension adventure ever (not all that likely)

c) like me, the blog is ridiculously clumsy and fell down the stairs, hit its head, and developed a short term case of amnesia (the soap opera explanation)

d) there was some sort of server hiccough that I can't explain, don't understand and don't know how to fix (probable)

Whatever the cause of this mysterious outage, I have restored the last two posts, but alas, not the comments on them. I'd like to direct your attention to the "What's it like?" post, because I really am interested in the answer.

And watch out for those wormholes.

My team hosted "decorate your own cupcake" day for our side of the building today. If you're looking for a way to get people out of their offices and chatting and having fun for a little while, I can tell you that decorate your own cupcake day is a good way to go. We had your standard yellow and chocolate cupcakes, along with apple cupcakes and s'mores cupcakes, plus chocolate and vanilla frosting, funfetti frosting, gummi bears, chocolate chips, tiny M&M's, assorted sprinkles and decorating frosting. My team (which is chock full of wonderful people) really got into it and made it a lot of fun. Fun, and delicious. I ate 1 ¾ cupcakes and feel that those calories were totally and completely worthwhile. I had forgotten how tasty vanilla frosting from a can is. And those tiny M&M's helped my yellow cupcake with chocolate frosting attain perfection.

Totally unrelated, but I mention it since it happened today and I'm still irritated about it. There is an Aveda concept salon in Frederick now, and I was interested when I saw their ad, because I really like Aveda products, and their salons are usually very nice. So when I got a flyer from them offering a special $35 manicure and pedicure, I was enthusiastic. I mean, a pedicure alone usually costs more than $35. Enthusiastic that is, until I called them today and the girl who answered the phone told me that they only have a nail tech during the week. Okaaaaay... What the hell kind of salon doesn't do manicures or pedicures on the weekend? Isn't that their best and busiest time? I desperately need a pedicure before I can unleash my winter-y feet on an unsuspecting world, and now I'm going to have to pay full price somewhere. And there's no way I'm going to be able to get an appointment this weekend either.

One of my best friends has just taken a part time job as a stripper. She has her own business which she's pouring her heart and soul into growing, but doesn't always have the greatest cash flow. Someone pointed out to her that she could pick up a lot of money in a fairly short amount of time working as a stripper, so she decided to give it a try. She's in great shape and has never been shy. In fact, I would go so far as to say she enjoys being the center of attention. We had a conversation recently about how she finds knowing that people at the gym are paying attention to her motivating, while I spend the whole time hoping no one is paying attention to me.

Anyroad, (as Pullo would say on Rome) she had her audition for the strip club guys, and they thought she was fabulous, so now she's working as stripper part time. I find it kind of amusing that she's working at the same strip club where one of the teachers at my high school worked. As you might imagine, that was quite the scandal. And back then, the drinking age in DC was 18, so some of the seniors could - and did - go see her. She didn't last long as a teacher. I think I heard she went to Paris to become a fashion designer.

I think my friend was a little worried that I would judge her for it. Do I seem like that much of a prude? First of all, she's one of my nearest and dearest friends, so I would support her no matter what she decided to do. Within reason, of course. Second, why would I care if strangers want to pay money to see her naked? I've seen her naked for free, suckers! I say, as long as she doesn't want me to get naked in front of anyone, we're good. I am fascinated to know what it is like. Is it weird to be naked in front of people? Non-medical, non-tailor people? Does she get to pick the music? Will she work out routines? Ooh, maybe I could help her choreograph a routine. Now, that I think would be fun. How hard is it to spin around that pole anyway? Are the guys all frat boys or mobsters or businessmen with odd fetishes? I want to know.

Here's the best part. I'm going to go see her strip! I don't know when, just yet, but she asked if I would come see her, and I said yes. I will need reinforcements though. I think I might have Becky lined up to go and it occurred to me we might be able to get Laila to go with us if we wait until she's in town. Now the only question is, what do you wear to a strip club?

Proof that I probably shouldn't be allowed to do anything in the morning, ever: This morning as I was getting ready for work, I thought to myself, "I should make sure not to go by Television without Pity today so I don't see what happened on the series finale of Rome last night."

Hey genius. You already know exactly what happened. You took history, didn't you? I suppose I don't know exactly how the TV show writers chose to spin out the story, but I do know how it all ends. Well, except for some of the characters who aren't actual famous historical figures, so I guess I will get to learn the fate of good ol' Titus Pullo of the 13th Legion.

So don't ruin the surprise for me. Maybe those crazy kids Mark Anthony and Cleopatra will make it after all...

The last few days have been exhausting. Not bad, but busy. In fact, make that busy squared. I spent Monday trying to plow through work I knew I wouldn’t get to on Tuesday and Wednesday, alternating with trying to get stuff ready for Tuesday and Wednesday. Then Tuesday and Wednesday arrived and I was sucked into the vortex of meetings from 9 to 5. Followed up with post work dinner meetings, because there were VIPs to be entertained. It was all very worthwhile, but damn was it exhausting.

Today I spent the day wading through the hundreds of work emails that accumulated over the last couple of days, and trying to deal with everyone who was feeling neglected by me. I’m coming down with a cold, and I’ve just learned I’m not pregnant. I have no energy to be creative or interesting or fun. I’m going to move forward with my plan to take NyQuil and lie on the couch.

If you’d like something interesting to read this evening, my I suggest a couple of my frequent commenters? They should be on my blogroll, and they will be someday when I get around to rebuilding my blogroll using Bloglines or Google Reader like I say I’m going to do.

Funny and interesting Mom of two sweet sounding boys, Jerri Ann

Former Frederickian, fellow infertile and more,Amy from Minnetonka

Smart, funny and a darn good writer, Northern Girl

Enjoy. Hopefully I'll be more coherent soon.

P.S. I’m so disappointed in my NyQuil experience. They’ve replaced the decongestant with some drug that cannot be turned in to crystal meth, and I have to say, it also cannot keep up with the river of snot flowing through my head right now. It is making me sleepy, but I still can’t breathe. I guess I’m going to have to go hand over my ID and get some of the good stuff (i.e. real Sudafed) tomorrow. I just hate the big brother-y feel of that. I’m not doing anything wrong, but I don’t like the, “oh, if I run through the package too fast, they’re going to think I’m pulling a fast one” feeling that goes along with the pseudo ephedrine purchase these days.

Does everyone have a list of random things that they might like to own rattling around in their head? It's not stuff you need. It might not even be stuff you will ever actually buy, but there it is, a pile of "wants" taking up space in your brain. Here are a few of mine:

▪ A Volvo station wagon. I've always kind of liked them. Something about their unabashed, almost belligerent boxy-ness appeals to me. "Yeah, I'm a rectangle on wheels. You wanna make something of it?" Lately I've been eyeing them speculatively, although I'm not ready to buy a new car. Still, I wonder if part of the attraction is that Volvo station wagons represent a family car to me. As if by buying one, I'd magically get the family I want. "It's the darnedest thing you ever did see, doc. Years of infertility, but then they bought a Volvo station wagon, and whammo, problem solved." I'll tell you, they'd sure as hell be worth the money if that was the case though.

▪ A Dyson vacuum cleaner. I hate to vacuum. I don't like the noise. I don't like all the work that goes into it. I don't quite know why I want a Dyson. They are brightly colored and pretty and don't use bags (I hate changing the bad most of all), but they are ridiculously expensive. I think they cost at least twice as much as my current vacuum cleaner did. Of course, my current vacuum isn't all that great. It is better than the vacuum it replaced - a busted orange '70's vacuum my mom gave me that mostly served to push dirt around the carpet - but it's no Dyson. And what I hear is that the Dyson is so good at vacuuming, it is worth every penny. Do you suppose it could change the way I look at vacuuming forever?

▪ A set of copper pans. Copper pans look good, and are great for cooking evenly, and are well regarded in the cooking world. Sadly, just like the Dyson, they are also ridiculously expensive. Still, I do hope to slowly assemble a collection of them over the years. I got my start with three little copper pan Christmas tree ornaments my thoughtful husband gave me as a gift for Christmas.

▪ A King size bed. I'm a restless sleeper. John's a restless sleeper. I'd love to a have an enormous king-sized bed so we could sleep restlessly together and not interfere with each other's sleep. I remember my friend Eden's parents had a bed that could sleep five of us when we were in high school. Something that size would work beautifully, although it may have been a custom size. Of course, the five us in that bed were usually drunk or something, so who knows if it is was a big as I remember it being.

▪ A Pottery Barn type couch. I love the big sectional sofas they have, but I can't quite bring myself to spend that much money on something I'm almost guaranteed to spill a drink on immediately after purchase. I did just read an article in the paper today about getting stuff like that cheap or even free through Craig's List and freecycling though, so maybe my day will still come.

▪ New kitchen counters. I love my kitchen. It is bright and sunny and open and has good flooring, but the counters suck. The cabinets are a little boring, but I can live with them. The appliances are ok, although I hate the wire shelves in the refrigerator. But the counters are bland and thin looking and I don't like them.

▪ A pair of diamond stud earrings. I'm not much for jewelry. I have my engagement ring and my wedding band, and that's all the fancy stuff I really need. But a pair of diamond stud earrings would go with just about everything. You can dress them up or down, and they always look nice. And that would be it for my expensive jewelry needs.

There you have it. My shallow, materialistic list. Please tell me that you have a list like that too! Or at least that you aren't judging me for having one.

Isn't that the lamest, most boring title ever? I'm ashamed of myself for being so uncreative. I blame all the cookies I've eaten today. And the cold weather. Can cold make you dumb?

John and I don't get all worked up about celebrating Valentine's Day, but I promised one of my marketing managers that I'd make sugar cookies as a treat. Somehow, most likely because I can't avoid complicating things, that turned into me making up little bags of cookies and candy up for the people on my team. I carefully assembled them and closed them up with little heart twist ties, only to end up stuck at home today after a combined snow/ice storm made it impossible for me to get out of my neighborhood. We didn't get all that much snow - maybe five inches, but then it all got covered with a coating of about two inches of ice. Ok, the weather guy on the news just said that it was sleet, not ice. I'm not sure what the difference is, but apparently we got 5.5 inches of sleet here in Frederick. And they didn't get around to plowing my street until after 6 tonight.

So anyway, instead of taking the leftover cookies in to work, I sat around eating them all day. I guess it is a good thing that I don't work from home every day. Having the kitchen right there is very distracting, although the presence of fresh baked frosted cookies probably made it a little more distracting than usual. My day went something like this - walk Seamus (who doesn't weigh enough to break through the ice/sleet, so he spreads his toes and does this odd beagle-ninja thing. It's hysterical), eat cookie. Have breakfast. Debate whether or not to eat another cookie. Eat cookie. Watch a guy in a Jeep struggle to get up my street, decide I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Log in to work email, and let boss know. Work for a bit. Call in to work weather line and find out we're not opening until 11. Work some more, since I have my doubts I'm going to make it in by 11. Call back to the work line for an update at 10, and learn that they are encouraging all employees to work from home. I have to say, this is a huge step forward for my company. HUGE, and much appreciated by me. Hey, I should eat a cookie to celebrate!

You get the idea. I did chill out on the cookies after that. Plus, there weren't that many left at that point, and I had to give some of them to John. And I had a lot of work to do.

Hope you had a lovely Valentine's day, filled with cookies and love. Or whatever your heart's desire might be.

I am a punk ass. I was supposed to run a 5k this morning with my friend Becky and her running partner. It's called the Penguin Pacer, and I guess the idea is that it makes it more of a challenge to run outside when it is really cold. I hadn't given it much thought because I always run inside, and also perhaps because I'm not that bright. But it doesn't usually get all that cold here, and I think it was 60 degrees out when I signed up to do the race. Becky pointed out the other day that I really would need a hat and gloves. Hats and curly hair don't mix, so the only one I own is the Smoky the Bear hat left over from my park ranger days. Anyway, I went out yesterday and bought a runner's hat with ear flaps, and these gloves that were supposed to keep my hands really warm, plus two high-tech shirts that are warm but also "wick away sweat" to keep me from getting chilled.

I got up at 5:45 this morning, and it was so cold I put on both of the shirts, plus two fleece jackets, two pairs of socks, two pairs of pants, the gloves, the hat, put my hood up, and took Seamus out for his walk. It always amuses me how excited he gets when we go for our walk early. It's like all of his dreams have come true. Well, I was miserable the whole time. My face was freezing. My hands and teeth got so cold they hurt (so much for those fancy gloves, which I discovered have magnets to hold them together. Why?) and all I could think about was how I did not want to drive to Columbia and run this race. The only part of me that wanted to go was the part that felt guilty about bailing. Maybe also the part that felt like a loser after insisting to everyone that I wouldn't be too cold.

Guess what? I was wrong. 18 degrees with a wind chill of 9 is too cold for me. It's just not a challenge I want to conquer. So I stayed home. I feel bad, although Becky didn't seem mad about it. She even offered to pick up my t-shirt for me, but obviously I don't deserve the t-shirt. Today, I truly am a bad, bad penguin.

Hello Internet. I’m in search of a new car insurance company, and I want to know which company you use. I’ve had USAA for almost 20 years now, but they’ve decided to screw me, big time, and I’m not going to put up with it. John and I have one car – a six year old Honda Civic. They want to charge me $221 per month for a car that is worth, at most, $10,000. This is the same car that they used to charge me $87 per month to insure. Then John and I each got a speeding ticket, and I had an accident so minor that I didn’t even write about it here. Funny though, every other insurance company I call offers me a rate that is much, much lower. I think that clearly demonstrates that they don’t have to charge me such a high rate to cover their risk. Progressive gave me the lowest quote, but I think I feel the best about GEICO.

My mom has terrified me with dire predictions about how leaving USAA will be a disaster and no other insurance company is as good. Surely there are other good insurance companies out there. Have a company you love? Or one you hate? Please share your story with me.

I once had a discussion with one of the more conservative people I know about the fact that there are a couple of states that don’t celebrate Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday. I think they are Arizona and Colorado, although I’m not sure. Colorado would make sense though, since that’s where she lives. Anyway, her question was, why would white people celebrate Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday. This notion took me totally by surprise, because it seems so shortsighted.

By forcing Americans to confront the prejudice and inequalities inherent in our society, Martin Luther King Jr. made this country a better place for everyone who lives here. By advancing the cause of civil rights through non-violent means, even as his people had water hoses turned on them and dogs set on them, their churches bombed, their skulls cracked, and sometimes, were murdered outright, he qualifies for hero status in my eyes.

I am thankful that my children will grow up in a country without segregation and lynchings. I am pleased that my country is a place where it is no longer acceptable to be blatantly racist or discriminatory based on the color of someone’s skin. Yes, I know there is still plenty of prejudice and subtle and probably not so subtle discrimination out there. And yes, it is disheartening that we still have to debate topics like race based admissions policies and racial profiling. I know we still have a very long way to go. But think about how much longer the road would be without Martin Luther King Jr. and the work he did.

That’s why I honor his memory.

I’m going to write about work today, which I don’t usually do, but I think I can say what I want to say here without breaking any rules. The standard disclaimers apply – I’m not talking about you, everything I say here is my opinion and my feelings and not those of my employer and so on and so on. On to the main event:

One of the things I love best about my job is the fact that it is always changing. I get to apply the same basic skill set to a wide variety of different projects. My team’s mission is to figure out how to do new stuff that the company has never done before. Mostly online, but not exclusively. It’s challenging and interesting and pretty much never gets boring.

A little over a year ago, we were responsible for coordinating the production of a series of videos. That sounds glamorous, but it really isn’t – the topics of those videos are generally only interesting to people in our particular niche. Anyway, we created a lot of schedules, and worried about getting sets constructed, kept people on deadline, and attended to a whole lot of operational details. Oh, and took care of the marketing end of things, of course. And then we moved on to other projects. Well, today I was on the other side of the fence, and I have to tell you, I have a newfound respect for people who work in TV and movies.

This time around, my team was responsible for the creative pieces. We came up with the concept and wrote the script for the video. I was the one editing the script at top speed as we were taping (one of the many things I learned today – how to use a teleprompter – and there is nothing like having a whole crew waiting for you to frantically come up with and type in new copy before they can start rolling tape again to put a little pressure on you). I was the one whose job it was to keep the talent focused and energized and feeling good about what he was doing. I was the one who, when something wasn’t working creatively, had to try to think up an alternate solution. It wasn’t all on me, since luckily, I am part of a team, but it felt like the main responsibility was mine. At one point, I actually stopped the taping (I kind of wish I had yelled cut, but I didn’t) and went up and had a conference with the presenter, talking him through his “motivation” and how I wanted him to cover what he had to cover. I’m not kidding. It felt very director-y! I also have a much better understanding of continuity errors now. Sometimes, you're just so glad that a take went well that when you notice later that the coffee mug has moved over six inches to the left, you decide you can live with it.

Overall, it was an exhausting and tough day. Still, I have to admit I kind of enjoyed it, at least some of the time. I don’t know if that makes me some sort of adrenaline junkie or what. I probably couldn’t hack it every single day, but I’m really glad I got to do it today.

Where does the time go? Of course, lately I’m so focused on work stuff, fertility stuff and fitness stuff, it’s no wonder that time is flying by. Not that I have any news on the fertility front. I got a Pottery Barn Kids catalog in the mail the other day, I guess because I shop at Williams Sonoma (which also owns PB) and they think my demographics indicate that I’m likely to have a child. Which, yes, Pottery Barn Kids, I’m trying. Thanks for assuming. Seriously, though, I called my RE’s office on Friday to make my first appointment in just about a year, only to discover that for some reason, they were closed from 11 to 5 that day. I hope that’s not an omen.

As far as my fitness goes, I’ve been stuck at the same weight for weeks now, probably due to all the temptations of holiday treats. That’s behind me, thank goodness, but I really want to get my weight loss jump started again. That means paying extra attention to what I’m eating, and making sure I’m getting plenty of exercise. John has embarked on his own get fit plan, so I’ve been trying to be supportive of his efforts, too.

On the entertainment front, I’m just a little bit top heavy on the post-apocalyptic front, but I do have a couple of recommendations to share. First, the movie Children of Men, which John and I both really liked. It is a good story, well written, well acted, and visually interesting. My movie evaluating skills aren’t quite sophisticated to describe exactly what it is that I liked so much about the way it was filmed, but John says it has to do with the documentary feel, and the continuous shots they used. It is a little depressing and bleak at times, but ultimately hopeful. Plus, it features the Battersea Power Station, complete with flying pig.

I also just finished the book World War Z, which Chris was kind enough to recommend to me recently. It was a fast read, but a very enjoyable one. It tells the story of a Zombie World War as an oral history from many different points of view. It’s very cleverly done, with enough “real” facts woven into the story to make it feel, well, real. Almost plausible. And it isn’t scary, because it is people sharing their recollections, rather than being an action packed narrative. Although there was one section about dogs (naturally) that almost made me cry. Of course, as I was reading the book today, we also had The Stand on in the background because they ran the whole mini-series today on the SciFi channel. So I’m practically on fake humanity-threatening catastrophe overload. I haven’t holed up in the attic with a rifle just yet (the fact that we have neither an attic nor a rifle is only one of the contributing factors there) but I have started wondering if we should at least have a disaster kit. You know, flashlights, batteries, maybe a sleeping bag or two. Do you have stuff on hand like that? Or have I absorbed one cataclysm story too many? Because I can’t help thinking that we are pretty much completely unprepared to deal with any sort of emergency, be it a highly unlikely zombie incursion or something more prosaic, like an ice storm or a hurricane.

When I sat down and started thinking about resolutions for 2007, I couldn’t remember whether or not I made any resolutions last year. Luckily, I have this handy blog which allows me to go back and see what I was thinking this time last year. I did not make any resolutions last year beyond stating that I was getting ready to start treatment at a new fertility clinic, and that I was trying really hard to be hopeful that 2006 would be the year I got pregnant. Well, obviously, that didn’t happen, but the new clinic did discover my diabetes, so at least I’m closer than I was this time last year.

It’s funny – in some ways I’ve changed a lot over the last year, but in others, I’m in almost the exact same place. The diabetes completely changed my life around, of course, so my life has a different focus on exercise and health issues that it didn’t have at the beginning of last year. I’m 35 pounds lighter and way more fit, which is pretty darn cool. I’m still struggling to find the right work/life balance, although I have my good days and my bad days. For the most part, I fit in everything I want to fit in to my life, so I think I’m doing ok overall. In the “exact same place” column, I’m getting ready to head back to the fertility clinic to evaluate where matters stand now that my diabetes is firmly under control. And once again I’m trying to be hopeful that this year is the year I finally get pregnant.

Getting pregnant isn’t really the sort of thing that can be a resolution, though. I can only do so much and then it is pretty much out of my control. So, that aside, here are my 2007 resolutions:

1. Actually have a financial plan. We’re pretty casual about money --probably too casual. This year I will create a budget and stick to it. Build up our savings. Start an IRA, because we really need more than what I’ve got in my 401k. Get more life insurance. Do grownup stuff like write a will.

2. Be neater. I don’t mind clutter all that much, although I do like the house better when it is tidy. It makes John nuts, though, so for his sake, I’m going to try to be better about putting stuff away.

3. Reach out to others more. I tend to keep my head down and get very caught up in my day to day life. I want to make more of an effort to let my friends and family know how important they are to me.

4. Take a writing workshop. I think I could be a better writer. I think a workshop might help.

5. Work on being a better boss to my employees. I’ve benefited mightily from the excellent mentors I’ve had in my career. Now I want to be sure I pass that along to the people who work for me.

6. Do more to help others. Whether it is running the Race for the Cure or other 5Ks, donating money, or finding places to do volunteer work, I could do a whole lot more to help others than I do now.

7. Write in this blog more regularly. I feel better when I update frequently. And I think the more I write, the easier it is to express myself clearly.

8. Worry less about what other people think. I have confidence in myself. Why do I bother worrying about other people?

9. Try more new things – new exercise classes, expand the types of books I read, keep my mind open, learning and growing, instead of settling for the safe and familiar.

10. Lose the rest of the weight I want to lose, and sooner rather than later. Hit my goal and then focus on maintaining.

There they are. I think they are pretty attainable. And I have 12 months to get them all done!

So what resolutions have you made?

I made the cookies.

Ok, I'm making them right now. I also made cookies for my party over the weekend, and I'll make cookies on Sunday to give out to family members on Christmas. Plus a cake. Right now I'm feeling just a little bit guilty because I'm only making two kinds of cookies to give to the people on my team at work instead of my usual three or four. But it's 11:45, dammit, and I'm tired.

I do love baking, but this week has been crazy. I have next week off, so I've been trying to cram two weeks' worth of work into one, and I had a huge writing project due, which thankfully, I finalized this morning. I was nearing a dangerous stress level for a while there, but as the week progresses, I'm slowly calming down. I got the biggest thing done, and the rest will happen or not. I'll relax for a week, and then I'll tackle whatever is left the first week of January. Whew, does it feel good to get to that point.

Now, does anyone else think this conversation I had with my mom earlier today is a little weird?

Mom: I didn't get you that book you asked for as a present.
Me: Uh, ok.
Mom: When I asked where it was, they said the horror section, and I won't give you a horror book for Christmas.
Me: Well, see it's not really a horror book. I mean, it is about zombies, but it is supposed to be more like social commentary... [trails off]
Mom: I'm not giving you a scary book for Christmas.
Me: ...Ok, I can buy it for myself.

Do you have rules about what gifts are and are not acceptable at Christmas? I mean, ok, perhaps porn isn't very Christmas-y, but I wasn't going to ask for that anyway. Objecting to the subject matter of a (fictional, even!) book just struck me as odd.

For that matter, what's the strangest Christmas present you ever gave someone?

I had a dentist appointment last Friday. Not surprisingly, because my stupid teeth suck, I have two cavities. I also apparently lost a filling at some point in the last six months so I have to get that filled again too. Damn, I’m lucky.

But what they went on and on about was the space where Darth Tooth used to be. When I saw the oral surgeon, he told me that my best option was to get an implant, because he didn’t think I was a good candidate for a bridge. However, a tooth implant is not cheap, and not covered by my insurance at all. The missing tooth is in the back of my mouth, so you can’t see it. And I don’t miss it. I can still chew and talk just fine. According to the hygienist and my dentist, though, it is very, very important that I deal with the missing tooth. They said they think I’ll be fine to get a bridge, and that, at least, will be partially covered by insurance. But then they told me the cost: $3,300. And that’s cheaper than the implant? Holy moly. It’s a little tiny tooth – how can it possibly cost that much?

@#%&ing teeth.

I really should be clearing the clutter off my desk to get ready for my party, but I decided this would be more fun. Here we have – completely unsolicited by either the companies that make these products or my lovely and talented readers – a few reviews:

Johnson & Johnson Reach CleanPaste Floss – the idea behind this is that the dental floss is coated with tooth paste, so it’s “like being able to brush between your teeth!” As we all know, my teeth need all the help they can get, so I thought I would love this product. Sadly, that’s not the case. The mint flavor of the paste clashes with my toothpaste. Even worse, as you are flossing, the paste gets wet and the floss gets all slimy. That’s gross, and when your teeth are all crammed together like mine are, you need a certain amount of leverage to get your flossing accomplished. It’s still a good idea, but they need to work on the execution.

Fuji Apples – I’ve always been strictly a Granny Smith girl. I like my apples tart and green, and I wouldn’t eat a Red Delicious on a dare. Ok, maybe on a dare. However, when you make an apple pie, it comes out better if you have a mix of apples. I usually go for Macintosh, but this year, on a whim, I tried Fuji apples. The results were delicious, and now I have a new apple to eat. They are crisp and sweet and manage to have a little bit of tartness as well. Yum!

Tiny Trapeze Vanilla Marshmallow Fluff from Whole Foods. I’ve been a vegetarian for five years now, and rarely do I feel deprived. But one of the foods I sorely missed was Rice Krispie Treats. Tiny Trapeze Marshmallow Fluff is gelatin free and ridiculously tasty, and they’ve brought one of my favorite special treats back into my life. Double yum!

Bumble & Bumble Curl Conscious Creme – this is the single greatest product I have ever used on my hair. It helps with frizz, and keeps my curls smooth and pretty instead of fuzzy and crazy. If you have curly hair, you should try it. If you have wavy hair, you can use it too. It smells good without having an overpower fragrance, and it really gets the job done. The fine folks at Bumble & Bumble get curly hair and what it needs. I like all of their products that I’ve tried, but the Curl Conscious Creme is the absolute best.

There you have it. Four product reviews for stuff you probably didn’t care about in the first place. And yes, I know no one asked me for my opinion. But really, if I were to the type to sit around waiting for people to ask me questions, why would I even have a blog?

What about you? Try anything recently that you either loved or hated?

Jenn over at Jenn’s Journal (you should go visit her, because there are some tasty looking recipes posted) came up with the idea for an online cookie recipe exchange for the holidays. Now, I am a cookie baking fiend, so I loved the idea and signed right up. Every year for Christmas I bake a bunch of different cookies and give out the assortments as gifts. It’s something my mom used to do, and I decided to carry on the tradition.

I picked this recipe up on the Internet a while ago, and last year it became my most popular and requested cookie. People could not stop raving about them! So I can tell you that they come highly recommended by the multitudes.

Oatmeal Cranberry White Chocolate Chip Cookies

½ lb (2 sticks) butter
1 ¼ cups brown sugar
½ cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 tablespoons milk
2 cups rolled oats
2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 cups dried cranberries (it’s really one package, which I think is slightly less than two cups)
2/3 cup white chocolate chunks or chips

Cream butter and sugars until fluffy, and then beat in eggs, vanilla and milk.

In a separate bowl, combine oats, flour, baking soda, cinnamon and salt.

Mix the dry ingredients in with the butter mixture, adding a little at a time until well blended. Stir in cranberries and white chocolate chips.

Divide dough in half, roll into a log about 1 ½ inches in diameter. Refrigerate until firm, about one hour. I always cheat and just stick the whole bowl in the fridge and scoop out spoonfuls. That works fine too.

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Bake on cookie sheets for 12 to 14 minutes or until golden brown.

Enjoy!

That title has absolutely nothing to with this post beyond that fact that for some reason I’ve been singing the Pink Floyd song “Have a Cigar” to myself all afternoon. Maybe I heard it on the radio or something.

I’ve had a lovely weekend. I had intended to bring home some work to do, but I piled it all up and left it sitting on my desk on Friday night, which I decided to take as a sign that I didn’t really need to do any work this weekend after all. Instead I did some Christmas shopping, and a little shopping for me, too. I established that I really like Kate Spade shoes, but that I can’t bring myself to spend that much money. Look at how cute these are. Why must they be so expensive? And I actually had an encounter with a shoe guy at Nordstrom who I felt was a little rude, which was a first. Usually the people who work at Nordstrom are excellent at customer service, and in fact the people who helped me elsewhere in the store were up to their typical standard.

I realized that when I finally decide I’m skinny enough to really go out and buy a bunch of new clothes, I’m going to need a consultant. I have no idea what looks good on my new and improved body, which made shopping a little bit of a challenge. Also, sizing is so inconsistent! I seem to be verging on a size 6 for most things (whooppee!) but there are these outliers. DKNY, I’m an 8. I tried on a pair of Guess jeans, and they were too tight in a size 12 (ok, 32, which I think is a 12). Guess (ha!) which company is not going to get my business. I sure as hell didn’t lose all this weight – 34 pounds and counting – so that I could feel like a fat ass in their overpriced clothes. It’s like when you go shopping for a wedding dress and they tell you that wedding dresses all run small. If ever there was a time when a woman needs to feel confident and not like a big cow, it is for her wedding, so sure, that was a good call on the part of the wedding dress designer industry.

I had fun picking out books and toys for my niece and nephew, and I got a stuffed bear as a Christmas present for Seamus. He loves to “kill” stuffed animals, so we give him a new one every year. I’m not completely done with my shopping yet, but I am close. I’ll finish up this Friday, as I have the day off of work. I also have to go to the dentist though, which, yuck.

The weather was gorgeous and warm today, so John and Seamus and I went for a hike in the woods. We’ve been trying to become more active in our habits, and we’ve started hiking pretty regularly. I’m proud of us for that.

Oh, and if you were feeling just a little bit safer this weekend and weren’t sure why, I can explain. My baby brother got all growed up and took a job as a fire fighter on Friday. It’s pretty much his dream job (he’s been a volunteer firefighter for a while) and they are going to send him for EMT training in January. He will be a wonderful EMT and fireman. Congratulations, Tim!

• I’ve been having trouble with my left Achilles heel when I run, so I went to get fitted for new running shoes at this place called Fleet Feet that my friend Becky recommended. Zoot also just got some shoes at the Alabama branch, so it was doubly recommended. And I have to say, they were very nice and helpful. Apparently I am an over pronator, which means my feet roll in when I walk/run. I have very high arches, but they are collapsing when I run, which is causing problems. So I am now the owner of a pair of Nikes built to give me stability when I run, stuffed with special orthotics to give my arches even more support. I wore them when I did my workout video at home tonight, and I can already tell the difference. My ankles felt studier, for one thing, and my feet really did feel better supported.

• I made chocolate chip cookies this weekend that turned out perfectly. Crispy on the edges, chewy in the middle, absolutely delicious all around. It was completely by mistake, too. The butter was still partly frozen, so I microwaved it, and it got all melty. The meltiness seems to have helped create the perfect consistency. And now you know the secret too. Now if I could just stop eating the cookies. I’ve had three since I came home tonight.

• John and I have decided to ditch Amsterdam from our trip and just focus on London and Paris. We're considering Versailles. I continue to get more and more excited about the possibility of this trip! I hope it works out for us.

• I think I’m going to have to give in and buy some new clothes before I finish losing weight, because I have virtually no clothes that I can wear to work anymore. I actually wore a lame and dopey looking outfit that was too big today because it was cold outside, and I didn’t have anything that fit and was warm. I’m discovering that almost all of my sweaters are too big, and my winter suits don’t fit at all. Naturally, this would have me shopping for clothes I don’t even want to buy on the worst shopping weekend of the year for someone like me. Someone who gets itchy in malls when they aren’t crowded and noisy, and practically breaks out in hives in the stores this time of year. I know, you're thinking "Oh, boo-hoo." and, yes it is a wonderful problem to have. But I don't want to buy a bunch of new clothes that won't fit me in three months. See? It is a dilemma. Edited to clarify: I am looking forward to a shopping spree once I finish losing weight. Just not before.

• This weekend I went to an art gallery lecture and show with my mom. I thought it was just some guy she knows through her work with the local Democratic Party. I was picturing some earnest hippy guy who painted at home in his spare time. Well, it turns out that she does know this guy through her Democrat connections, but he’s also an internationally known painter whose work sells for something between $10,000 and $18,000 per painting. A little out of my league, but I really liked his stuff. He’s interested in astronomy and had some interesting paintings showing light against the night sky, either with the moon or a falling star, or an image inspired by something he’s seen in his telescope. It was a very cool show. It was on the Eastern Shore though, and I completely forgot that my mom is terrified of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. Until she handed me the keys to her car and asked me to drive. Suddenly her reasons for inviting me became much more clear. I mean, I do like art, and it is always nice to do stuff like that with her, but I had wondered why she invited me.

• In other momentous news, after driving to the Eastern Shore and back with my mom, the perfect opening to talk to her about my infertility (which she did not know about. Our relationship is…complicated, to say the least) presented itself and so I sighed, gathered my courage, and told her. Not all the details, but she knows now, and it went ok.

Now I must go to bed before I eat any more cookies. They are in the kitchen calling my name, and yes, they really are that good.

As I was leaving work tonight at 8:20 (roughly 12 hours after I left the house this morning, but sadly not 11 hours after I got to work as you might expect, due to a traffic jam. A traffic jam caused by the 17 accidents that happened because it was misty this morning. Sometimes I think they need to make the driving test harder, because driving in the mist really isn't all that hard. At least I got to have some fun -- I used my beloved Sidekick to send an email telling people I would be late for my 9:30 call. Am so very hip and 21st century.) I noticed I was parked near a car that is frequently still there on the nights when I work late.

It is a lovely red Porsche. It’s a Carerra and I’m really more of a [black] Boxster girl, but it occurred to me that it would be much easier to have high spirits when I come out of work at 8 pm if there were a fancy sports car waiting to comfort me after my long day.

Just a little something for my company to keep in mind if they ever have the urge to offer me some sort of exceptional compensation.

And yes, I know that will never happen.

Me, on a night like this one, a year ago: Work ‘til 8, leave my office with at least 5 different projects that really needed to be done today still unfinished, be stressed out, pick up takeout on the way home, eat too much of it, probably include some kind of dessert, walk the dog, and then sit on the couch watching TV.

Me, tonight: Work ‘til 8, leave my office with at least 5 different projects that really needed to be done today still unfinished, be stressed out, come home, chat with husband, work out, get actual stress relief, cook quick healthy dinner, no dessert, then watch previously recorded episode of Lost.

Tonight’s itinerary has got to be the more healthy one, but at the same time, making time to work out and eating so late means that I stay up later than I should, have less time to spend with my husband and dog, and am just a little bit farther behind on sleep and rest and relaxation than is good for me. It’s a tricky line to walk, particularly when I am as busy as I am at work right now.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m ambitious. I love my job, and I want to be successful at it. I want the ever increasing responsibility, the new challenges and the high profile projects. And I don’t mind working hard to get all of those things. But at some point I’ve got to figure out how to balance it all. How to tackle the big projects without staying at the office until 8 pm regularly and getting myself stressed out. How to fit in everything I need to do and still stay healthy. Exercising regularly is an important part of controlling my diabetes, so missing a workout comes close to being like missing a dose of my medicine, and I can’t afford that. Yes, of course I can (and do) take a night off here and there, and hopefully once I get down to my goal weight, I’ll be able to cut down on the working out a little bit, because the thinner I get, the more stable my blood sugar should get. And who knows what will happen when I try to add kids into the picture.
It’s probably just as well that I take some time to figure out how to balance my life as it is now, before I go and complicate it even more.

How do you juggle everything that you do? Got any tips for me?

I saw this story about Robert Jordan on Neil Gaiman’s site today. First of all, how come I didn’t know Robert Jordan was a pseudonym? I thought I was up on all of that stuff. However, that’s neither here nor there. If you read the story, you’ll see that one of my favorite authors has amyloidosis with cardiomyapathy, which sounds scary and life threatening and painful.

Robert Jordan’s books have entertained me for years. I read the first book in his Wheel of Time series back in 1989 after my mom picked up an autographed copy for me at Borders as a Christmas gift. I was immediately caught up in the story of Rand al Thor and his companions, and have eagerly bought and read every one of the books that followed. I tried to get one of my college friends interested at one point, but she sniffed and said “eh, he’s trying to be Tolkien.” Well, my deep dark fantasy geek secret is that I’ve never read Tolkien, or more precisely, I tried to read the Hobbit when I was too young to really get it, and hated the character of Gollum so much that I gave up on the book and never tried to read any of the other books. I do like the movies, so I keep thinking I should give it another try, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.

So I can’t really say for sure that he isn’t trying to be Tolkien, but I can say that I’ve always liked his books and think they stand up just fine on their own. Last year, when I was in the middle of infertility hell, they became particularly special to me. I was getting up insanely early and sitting in traffic as I tried to get in to the doctor’s office for monitoring before work…spending hours (seriously, hours, plural) every day sitting in my doctor’s waiting room, waiting for my turn on the sonogram machine…then spending even more time sitting around the waiting room in the lab so they could give me yet another bruise in pursuit of my hormone levels…and finally coming home, feeling stressed and tired and lousy and bloated from all of the thousands of dollars worth of Follistim I was injecting into my stomach. And as I waited, for doctors, lab techs, for the days to go by to see if the cycle was going to work – I read his books and escaped to another world. They really helped me cope, and made a difference in how I felt. So I’m sorry to hear he’s having his own health problems, and I hope that his treatment goes well, and that he does indeed get to write his 30 more years of stories. I certainly want to read them.

One of the books I read on my vacation was Dies the Fire by SM Stirling. It wasn't a perfect book - I felt there were a bunch of interesting characters who were introduced and then not properly developed, and there was way too much emphasis on the religious rites of one group of characters. I'm all for general references to religion, but I'm no more interested in multiple detailed descriptions of Wicca ceremonies than I am in pages and pages describing a Mass. See, my anti-religious bias extends to all organized religions, not just my father's. However, the premise of the book was interesting enough to keep me going, and I even went so far as to pick up the sequel. In the story, something happens along the lines of an Electromagnetic Pulse, and all electronics are wiped out. So are explosives and whatever it is that makes guns work, although people can still get fires going. Needless to say, chaos breaks out all over, the government vanishes and the story is about how various groups of people deal with the change and how they start building new lives after it.

Anyway, between the book and a string of zombie movies that have been on TV lately, I got to thinking about the end of the world. John loves a good zombie movie. I find them terrifying, although I did make it all the way through Shaun of the Dead. Mainly because that is more about being funny than it is about being scary. The remake of Dawn of the Dead? I had to go hide out upstairs. I couldn't take it. And I've only seen bits and pieces of 28 Days Later. I just get so tense when I watch those movies. However, the parts I have seen have made one thing blindingly clear: If the end of the world comes, I'll be in trouble.

I don't have any good skills. I can't shoot a gun or a bow. I don't know how to build things, or make useful stuff. I'm a great cook with all the modern tools and conveniences, but I've got no idea how to take wheat, turn it into flour and then turn that into bread. I wouldn't have anything that anyone would want to trade. I can sew a button back on an item of clothing, but I don't know how to make clothes. I could knit blankets, but I am also the world's slowest knitter, so everyone would probably freeze to death while I labored away on my creations. I don't know much about growing food, and as a vegetarian, I'd have a hard time making myself catch food to eat, even if I were starving. I'm blind as a bat without my glasses or contacts. I guess I am getting more fit, I'm a quick thinker in a crisis and I do know how to ride a horse. That's all I've got to offer, though, since I don't think they'd need all that much in the way of marketing or art historianism in an apocalyptic-type situation. So let's just keep hoping the end of the world stays fictional, shall we?

Well now you know why I don’t talk about my dad much. I get all angsty and I know it’s not pretty. It works for me, as demonstrated by this excerpt from an actual conversation I had during the second semester of my first year of college.

Me: “…something something my dad, blah blah blah…”
Jules: “So you do have a dad.”
Me: “Of course I have a dad.”
Jules “So he’s not dead.”
Me: “…No.”
Jules: “But your parents are divorced, right?” [sidenote: the divorce came later]
Me: “…No. He lives with us.”
Jules: “Oh. Well, we all wondered, because you never mention him. Ever.”
Me: “Oh.”

So now we can put that behind us and move on. Or, back, as the case may be, to Friday.

As requested by pomjob, here is the recipe for Decadent Fudge Cake (recipe originally from Southern Living):

1 cup butter, softened
1 ½ cups sugar
4 eggs
½ teaspoon baking soda
1 cup buttermilk
2 ½ cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ cups semi-sweet chocolate mini-morsels, divided
1 (4 ounce) bars sweet baking chocolate, melted and cooled
1/3 cup chocolate syrup
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
4 ounces white chocolate, chopped
2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons shortening

Cream butter in a large mixing bowl; gradually add sugar, beating well at medium speed of an electric mixer (note: I actually prefer to cream butter and sugar by hand). Add eggs, one at a time, beating after each addition.

Dissolve soda in buttermilk, stirring well. Add to creamed mixture alternately with flour, beginning and ending with the flour. Add 1 cup mini-morsels, melted chocolate, chocolate syrup, and vanilla, stirring until just blended. (Do not overbeat.)

Spoon batter into a heavily greased and floured 10 inch Bundt pan. Bake at 300 degrees for 1 hour and 25 minutes to 35 minutes or until cake springs back when touched. Invert cake immediately onto a serving plate, and let cool completely.

Combine 4 ounces chopped white chocolate and 2 tablespoons shortening in top of a double boiler; bring water to a boil. Reduce heat to low; cook until mixture is melted smooth. Remove from heat. Drizzle melted white chocolate over cooled cake. Melt remaining mini-morsels and 2 teaspoons shortening, stirring until smooth. Remove from heat, and let cool; drizzle over white chocolate. Let chocolate set, and serve.

This cake is pretty labor intensive, but it is rich and delicious and chocolatey and very impressive looking. Enjoy!

My mom told me a story today about this…thing this woman she’s working with right now is planning to do. Both of us find her plan peculiar and freaky and kind of repulsive, but we are related and we do sometimes think alike. So I thought I’d turn to you, people of the Internet, to see what your opinion is.

This woman is going to have herself cremated after she dies. No, that’s not the weird part. The weird part is that she’s paying some company $5,000 to take her ashes and turn them into a diamond pendant. And she’s really excited about the fact that she’s going to have herself made into pseudo-heirloom jewelry for her daughter to wear.

I don’t get this, and I’m the most sentimental person in the world. I attach meaning to and save plenty of stuff other people would throw away. And if my mom chooses to be cremated when she dies – many, many, many years from now, please – I’ll keep her ashes or scatter them as she wishes, and I’ll treasure any number of keepsakes from her, but I absolutely, positively will NOT want to wear her around as jewelry. Just thinking about it creeps me out big time. What’s your reaction? Do you see cremation diamonds as the sweet beginning of a family tradition, or just plain ghoulish and bizarre?

Every time I sat down to write for the last few days, I have absolutely hated every word I’ve written. My ideas were decent, but nothing I wrote turned out right. It was incredibly frustrating. But then on the way home a whole bunch of new ideas percolated up, so hopefully tonight’s writing adventure will go more smoothly.

Cecily has an interesting post up about five things feminism has meant to her. She came up with five excellent answers. I’ve got a few of my own to add to the list.

Feminism has given me choices. And before you go rolling your eyes about yet one more person linking being pro-choice with feminism, I’d like to point out that is a very one dimensional way to look at choice. Yes, I am pro-choice when it comes to abortion. I think women should have control over their bodies. But choice means so much more. When my mom was in high school, they told her she could be a teacher, a secretary or a nurse. When I was in high school, they told me I could be anything I wanted to be.

The women of my generation can have a career and kids. They can choose to stay home with their kids, but they don’t have to if they don’t want to do it. When the day finally comes that John and I get to have a child, he’ll be the one who stays home. He’s better suited to it than I am, and I’m much farther along in my career, since he’ll be starting over once he finishes grad school. That was pretty much inconceivable a generation ago. Debates may still rage about which options are best, but at least we have them.

Feminism has taught me about equality. I believe quite firmly that men and women deserve to be treated equally, a belief that is rooted in feminism. The natural extension of that is that people of different races, religions and sexual orientations deserve to be treated equally. Feminism is about embracing differences, not fearing them.

Feminism has shown me the value of sisterhood. I went to an all-women’s college, which was the absolute best place I could have gone. Not only did I get an amazing education, but I also learned to believe in myself, to be self-reliant and discovered the power of women working together. America the Beautiful was written by a Wellesley professor (I actually lived in Bates Hall my first year) and we always change the lyrics to say “…and crown thy good with sisterhood, from sea to shining sea” because while you’re there, you really do learn to appreciate what women can accomplish.

And most of all, I believe feminism has made the world a better place. I know there are people who find feminism threatening, and who think that all the gains we have made over the past 40 years are dangerous to society and families. To them I would say, the only thing feminism threatens is narrow-mindedness. What have you got against a philosophy that says that your mothers, your sisters, your wives and your daughters are people of value, who deserve to be treated with respect?

What does feminism mean to you?

One of my co-workers is thinking about applying to graduate school, and she and I were talking about the various programs she’s considering. It got me to thinking about graduate school for me. I’ve considered going to grad school off and on since college. Just before I got the job with my current company I actually applied to a bunch of programs, because at the time, all I knew was that I was miserable doing what I was doing and something about my life had to change. Lucky for me, I did end up in a job that I loved, and have continued to love as it has evolved over the years, because I never did get the whole grad school thing sorted out.

I’ve kind of always thought I would go to grad school at some point. I mean, I liked school, for one thing, and there’s still plenty of subjects I find interesting and don’t know nearly enough about yet. But I’ve never known exactly what I should go to grad school to study. I could get an MBA, but have you seen the classes you have to take to get an MBA? Snoozeville. I get way more out of just showing up for work every day. I thought I might be interested in a creative writing program, but I just checked out a couple of the ones at the schools around here, and I’m not sure I’d be a good fit there either. Improving my writing skills and doing more with my writing is high on my list, though. Maybe I just haven’t found the right program yet. Or perhaps I could try something like a writer’s workshop. I like history, but I can’t picture myself doing anything with a history degree, so that would be a whole lot of work and money just so I could have a Master’s or a PhD. I don’t really have that kind of free time or money. I’d really have to be going back to school for a reason.

Of course, right now I am quite happy where I am, doing what I do every day. I suppose one day that could change, but for now, I’ll try not to worry about it. Those of us without a graduate degree call that the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” philosophy.

Have you ever gotten a song stuck in your head, one section of it on repeat over and over? Of course you have. How about two songs? Two very different, perhaps even diametrically opposed songs, duking it out for control of your brain? No? Well let me try to describe it for you.

In the left corner of my brain, we have Daydream Believer by the Monkees. In the right corner of my brain, we’ve got Holy Diver, by Ronnie James Dio. Yep, pseudo-Beatles pop vs. operatic metal. And, might I add, two of the most incomprehensible sets of lyrics out there.

“Cheer up sleepy Jean, oh what can it mean, for a daydream believer and the homecoming queen.” Followed almost immediately by “Holy diver, you’ve been down too long in the midnight sea.” Seriously, what do those mean? And why are they both in my head at the same time?

And then there’s the most interesting question of all – who would win a pitched battle between the Monkees and Dio? Your first instinct might be to pick Dio, thinking that metal made him tough, but John met Dio in the parking lot at Hammerjack’s once, many moons ago (greeting him with a nod and a “What’s up, Ronnie” because he’s cool like that) and according to him, Dio is really short. The Monkees are kind of short too, but there are four of them, and they do have all that experience with the madcap adventures from their TV show. They might jump Dio and stuff him in a sack or something. It’s a tough call.

I may have alluded to this here before, but my parents were big into control – control over what I watched on TV, the movies I saw, the friends I had, the places I went – they were in charge of every facet of my life. I spent years begging them to let me get my ears pierced. Years. And then I spent a few more years lobbying to get my ears double pierced. And then I got older and rebellious and one night I got drunk and got some girl at a party pierce my left ear for the third time. It seems silly now, but at the time it was a VERY BIG DEAL. I hid that defiant third piercing from my mom for months, but she caught on one night at dinner, and oh, the fun and shouting that followed. My parents did not look kindly on my attempts to break out on to my own path, but there was nothing to be done about this particular one – the piercing had healed and wouldn’t close over.

I was so proud of that disobedient little hole. It was my first real victory in declaring who I was as opposed to who my parents thought I should be. I spent most of high school sneaking around, hiding my clothes in my friend Laila’s car because my mom would snoop around in mine, lying about where I was going and what I was doing, but the ear piercing, that was out in the open.

This weekend, while riffling through the chipped little porcelain box where I keep my earrings, I came across the small silver hoops I used to wear in those second and third holes. These days I’m lucky if I manage to remember to put in one set of earrings, but for some reason, when I saw those little silver hoops, I thought I’d put them in. Nope. Those second holes, which I longed for so badly (and which were done by a professional) are still open in the front, but are totally closed up in the back. The earrings just wouldn’t go through. Ironically, that controversial third hole, done by a tipsy high school girl with a sewing needle and an ice cube, is still open, but the double piercing is a thing of the past.

I never did take the path my parents wanted for me, but I’ve built a good life on my own terms. I could re-pierce my ears, I suppose, but I don’t think I will. I guess I don’t have quite so much to prove as I did when I was a teenager.

As I was lurking around Target this evening, hanging out in front of the magazine rack in an effort to avoid getting sucked into buying a bunch of random Target stuff while I waited for my prescription to get filled, I overheard a teenage girl make an ironic reference to a quote from the movie Bring It On.

I’ll leave it up to you to decide which is more pathetic, that she made the reference, or that I actually got it.

Does this mean that the incredibly cool and ironic references my friends and I made as teenagers to say, Repo Man, the Breakfast Club and the Lost Boys were equally lame?

Holy Hannah, I think my job is trying to kill me. Or perhaps they are just making sure I really earned that promotion. My boss, who I totally stole “Holy Hannah” from is away at a seminar. My usual partner in crime for this particular project is on vacation. And I’m wading around in areas of the business that I usually do not touch in all that much detail. I’m getting quite an education though, so I guess we can hope that I come through this week as a more well rounded business person. Luckily, I do have a group of smart, hardworking people I can depend on to help me sort this all out. It’s exhausting and a little confusing (ok, a lot confusing at times) but it is also energizing to be tackling something this different from my usual routine, to dive in and work hard to overcome a challenge, to learn new stuff, and to think about our business in a whole new way. It’s fascinating. There’s all this nuts and bolts stuff that I knew was going on, but I did not have any idea how it all really worked. I still don’t, but I’m getting there.

And hey, they say learning to use new parts of your brain helps keep you sharp, right? If I’m still alive at the end of the week, I should be sharp as a tack.

P.S. The amazingly gorgeous shoes of great beauty gave me a blister on my left heel. But I still love them, and we’re going to work it out. Not only do they look fabulous, I think they make me almost 4 inches taller. I feel like a giant in them. If you can be 5 ft 5 and a giant.

For some reason unknown even to me, I’ve gotten it into my head that I want a T-Mobile Sidekick 3. And let me this perfectly clear right now – I do not need a Sidekick 3. The only person who needs a Sidekick less than I do might be a person living in a pre-industrial society in the Amazon with no electricity, no cell phone towers and no one else to contact via cell phone or email. I already have a cell phone, of course. I have the lowest minute rate plan that T-Mobile offers, and the only time I have ever gone over my minutes was when I was on a business trip and used up all my anytime minutes dealing with a crisis back at work, which does not count. That was in May of 2004.

My cell phone usage/ownership is a joke with my friends and family, because I only turn it on if I know someone might be calling me on it, or if I need to use it. I’m always slightly surprised when it rings, and they are always slightly surprised when I answer it. If you leave me a message on my cell phone there’s a good chance it will be days before I realize it. I don’t have anyone’s number programmed into the phone, which I admit is more out of laziness than anything else. I’m sure I could figure out how to do it, and it probably would be more convenient for me if I did. I’ve never sent anyone a text message.

And yet, here I am, checking out the Sidekick and its features on the T-Mobile website. It has an MP3 player – and I don’t have an MP3 player! It has a digital camera. Well, I have one of those, but not on my cell phone! It could be my PDA – I’d never miss one of my friends’ birthdays again! Maybe I could even use it to track my food consumption during the day and load that info into my blood sugar log at night! Plus sending email would be fun.

Right. I need to calm down and step away from the computer before I talk myself into spending way too much money on something I absolutely do not need.

I’m an evil marketer. It’s what I do, and I’m pretty good at it. I spend quite a bit of my time figuring out ways to get my company’s customers to take the actions we want them to take, so I know all the tricks (or as we like to think of them, creative persuasion techniques).

And yet, they still have a power over me. Today I got a letter from a furniture store in Frederick that I have never even visited. It was addressed to me with my maiden name, which I generally don’t use anymore. They were sending me, as a preferred customer, a special invitation to their going out of business sale! But the only way to get in the door is to come and bring the letter. Now we still need a china cabinet, so I considered going by there to see if they have any decent deals. And then I thought to myself, I wonder if I really need to bring the letter? Which, no, of course I don’t! But you see how sneaky we marketers can be?

And then there’s Borders and Barnes & Noble, who have really got my number. Every so often they send me a coupon – Borders sends me one by email every week, although the deal varies, so I don’t always use it. Barnes & Noble sends them out by mail, but not as frequently. And I have to say both methods are surprisingly effective. Barnes & Noble’s because the way they space them out makes them feel more valuable, and Borders because I usually have to spend 20 bucks to save my 20% or 25% or whatever it is. And I can always find $20 worth of books that I want. Hell, today at Barnes & Noble I spent more than that and I didn’t even need to. I got Pamie’s book because I saw it on the table and then I had to buy it because I “know” her (although really, I just read her site. She doesn’t usually have comments on, and I’ve never emailed her or anything, so saying I know her is a stretch. I guess now her complex and yet surprisingly successful strategy of starting a website and writing interesting stuff on it so someday a girl in Maryland who she doesn’t know will spend $13 [-10%!] on her book has paid off. Cha-ching!) And I bought a hardcover book because it was 30% off, and then an additional 10% because I’m a booksaver member or whatever the hell they call it and then an additional 15% off with my coupon, which took this $26 book down to $12 something, and who could pass that up? Especially since the mass market paperback is going to cost $8 anyway. And then I bought this fantasy novel that keeps getting good reviews, so I finally broke down and bought it, even though it isn’t my usual type of fantasy. We’ll see.

Score:

Evil marketers who aren’t me: 3;

Me: 0.

I saw not one, not two, but three movies this weekend. I think that might be a record for me. Friday night John and I saw Clerks 2. If you liked Clerks, you’ll probably like Clerks 2. It wasn’t as funny as the first one, but I think part of the appeal of the first Clerks was that it hadn’t been done before, and obviously, now it has. Still, it was nice to see Dante and Randall and Jay and Silent Bob get a happy ending. And, Rosario Dawson is cute. Plus the movie gets points for having one of the most awkward scenes ever where a girl walks in on her guy doing about 16 things he shouldn’t be, all at the same time.

Saturday night was You, Me and Dupree, which was a disappointment. It just wasn’t funny, the characters weren’t well written, and the story didn’t hang together well. I usually think Owen Wilson is damn funny, but this movie didn’t work. As John put it, it was like they couldn’t decide what movie they were making – a comedy, or a story about friendship and marriage. And I’m so tired of the lame jokes about how one guy is always married to some totally controlling shrew who runs his life like he’s her kid. That was old back when they made City Slickers.

Then tonight I went to see Superman at the IMAX at the Air and Space Museum with my friend Amy and her husband. That was a good time and I’m very glad they invited me, although we experienced some sort of bizarre bug attach in the theater. (And Laila – the woman behind Amy practically had a five course meal with her – I thought of you). The last time I went to see an IMAX movie was probably in the late ‘70s or early ‘80s, and it was To Fly, which was pretty much the only IMAX movie for a long time. I don’t know when they started making regular movies to be shown at IMAX, but I highly recommend going if you get the chance. Superman looked very cool up there. I also liked the movie quite a bit. I don’t know why it didn’t get good reviews. I thought it was fine, and the story was interesting. But I’m not a huge Superman fan (really more of a Batman kind of girl), so perhaps there are subtleties that I missed. Oh, and Kate Boswell is way, way too thin. She was really hot in Blue Crush, and now she disappears when she turns sideways. Somebody please feed her something.

Up next, I think I’d like to see A Scanner Darkly. Got any movies to put on my list?

For some reason, my neighbors all seem to be really big on the whole giving home parties to sell stuff thing. There’s one lady who sells Mary Kay who is particularly pushy about it in a kind of puppy dog pathetic way. And then this morning her next door neighbor asked me if I was coming to her Tastefully Simple open house this weekend. Caught like a deer in the headlights, I panicked…and lied. “Oh, I’m not going to be here.” I said. And of course I’m going to be here, which will be blindingly obvious on Saturday or whenever the hell this thing is, which I don’t even know, because I threw the flyer she stuck in the door away.

Here’s the thing. I have nothing against my neighbors. It’s not that I don’t want to get to know them. However, I don’t wear much makeup, so I don’t have much use for Mary Kay. And, I’ll admit it, when I do buy makeup, I generally want something a little nicer than Mary Kay. And something that isn’t tested on animals. My same snobby tendencies are working against me with the Tastefully whatever party. From what I can tell, it’s all frozen, highly processed, preservative-filled foods. If they even have anything vegetarian, it won’t fit my hippie-crunchy organic requirements.

All that aside though, I have a true horror of going to a party where I don’t know anyone, and to top it off in this case, all they really want to do is sell me something. I would like to point out that none of these women ever have anything to say to me when they aren’t having a (selling) party or open house, so I’m fairly certain they don’t really want to get to know me. It’s funny though, the differences between people. I was thinking about my friend Jules and how she’s already made friends with some of her neighbors, and probably would have a great time going to a party where she didn’t know anyone. She’d look at it as an opportunity instead of a nightmare and would probably come out of it with five new friends. I, on the other hand, just can’t make myself even consider going. I’d worry about what to wear… whether or not anyone would talk to me…if I would say something stupid…what sort of excuse I could make if it turned out to be just awful and I had to escape.

But, that’s just the way I am, I guess. Fairly decent one on one, not so good with groups of strangers. If you need me, I’ll be hiding out in the basement pretending I’m not home.

It’s funny. Sometimes when I’m writing a lot at work, it makes it easier to write here. If the ideas are flowing in one place they flow freely in the other. In fact, sometimes it will go the other way too. If I’m having trouble writing a piece of copy at work, I’ll actually write something completely different and blog-like, and that will help kickstart whatever I’m trying to write job-wise.

The last couple of days though, not so much. Perhaps because I’m trying not to obsessively write about diabetes, dieting or exercise. I’m also trying to avoid general whining (although I’m do have quite the hate list going on right now, including such luminaries as the State of Maryland – 2 entries! – Janet Jackson – how the hell did she manage to lose 60 pounds in 4 months – and my car insurance company – and that’s just the start of the list.)

Or maybe it is this free lance art history project I’m working on right now. I bet you didn’t know that there was such a thing as free lance art history, but there is. Yes, back in the golden days of yore, we itinerant art historians used to wander the country, much like Caine from Kung Fu, or Fuller Brush salesmen, dispensing art criticism, discussing composition and symbolism, and speculating as to the artist’s influences. ‘Twas a grander, gentler time. Ok, not really. I happen to know someone who has an actual real art collection – a nice one – and they have hired me to write a brochure about the artists and art in the collection. It’s fun to use the art history part of my brain for something other than Jeopardy. Plus, I enjoy doing research like this and best of all I get to spend some quality time with the art.

I would love to have an art collection of my own someday, no matter how small. And I love most forms of art – painting, sculpture, photography, watercolors, etchings, glass, illustrations – just about everything, so there must be something I’ll like out there that will eventually be in my price range. Someday. But for now, I’ll content myself with enjoying other people’s art.

There, I managed to come up with something to say after all.

Everything I have to talk about right now is work related. Unless you’d like to hear some complaining about how there is a dog in heat in my neighborhood, so I have to put up with a horny beagle who fusses to go outside all the time and starts trying to get me up at 5 in the morning. Memo to Seamus: a) have you ever seen me get up at 5 a. m. b) just because you aren’t fixed doesn’t mean you get to have sex (John and I are very responsible that way, and besides, I’d feel like we were letting Bob Barker down. Have you ever seen Happy Gilmore? You don’t cross Bob Barker.) and c) that slutty little miniature Doberman is all wrong for you anyway. First of all, she’s tiny. Too tiny for you. And second of all, she’s already shacked up with a Corgi. I’m pretty sure she’d just break your heart.

So anyway, I was driving home tonight, and there was this commercial for some new McDonalds dessert on the radio. The husband brings the dessert home for his wife, which makes her suspicious. And the husband is offended, and says something along the lines of “What, I can’t bring home a dessert for my wife without another motive? By the way, we’re moving to North Dakota.” And of course, me being me, rather than wanting the dessert, which was what McDonalds was hoping for, I immediately start thinking about how they run that commercial in North Dakota. Who do the North Dakotans pity and joke about? And really, what is the regional cutoff point? Can they run that ad in South Dakota? Do the South Dakotans look down on the residents of North Dakota? And what about Nebraska and Wyoming? Does the joke work in other cold places, like Minnesota and Michigan? Perhaps people in North Dakota make fun of people in the desert or something, so their joke would be “By the way, we’re moving to New Mexico.” What is the philosophical/geographical/climatological U.S. opposite of North Dakota anyway? I suppose it might be Hawaii, but who would joke about not wanting to move to Hawaii? I mean, I’ve never been, but it is a tropical island, so really, unless you’re a vampire (and even then, I’m sure it is extra lovely at night) what problem could you have with moving to Hawaii? Are there people who dream of living someplace really isolated and cold? I bet there are. I am not one of them though. Offer me a choice between North Dakota and Hawaii, and I’ll take Hawaii every time. Sorry, North Dakota.

Suddenly here it is, 11 o’clock on Sunday night, and it feels like it was just five minutes ago that I dragged myself home from work on Friday night. Then again, I didn’t do all that much this weekend, so perhaps that’s why it feels like it shouldn’t really be time to go back to work yet.

Yesterday I felt like crap. I was ready to go back to be about five minutes after I got up. Instead I ran errands, and then came home and sat on the couch, knitting and watching NYPD Blue reruns on Court TV. I don’t know if you’ve spent much time watching Court TV, but as I discovered yesterday, most of the commercials on Court TV are for products not available in stores. And when you’re lounging on the couch not feeling particularly well, these commercials start to exert a strange pull over you. All at once, the solar powered fan that keeps your car cool – a $40 value for only $14.95 – starts looking really good. Why, I bet I would feel better if I just had that fan, you think. I mean, my car was really hot the other day, and now here I am, not feeling well. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

And then there’s the inevitable chopping/slicing/dicing tool. Which, since I didn’t feel well, made me think about how I could use it to make soup. Vegetarian matzoh ball soup, to be precise, which would magically cure all that ailed me. And then there’s the massaging, exfoliating, dermabrading shower loofah thingy. A massage for my achy shoulders would probably solve all my problems.

I didn’t buy any of them, but if there was a way I could have done it without moving off the couch , say psychically or something, it would have been a near thing. I did make myself some soup, which was delicious and may have made me feel marginally better. Either way, I feel fine now, so I’m not going to worry about it. And luckily, I don’t remember the urls for any of those fine products I saw on TV now that I’m feeling more peppy.

I’m not sure if I’ve ever written about this particular quirk of mine before, so I may be about to make myself look even geekier than you already thought I did. Ha! Bloggers in the mirror may be geekier than they appear. But I digress. Anyway, I love maps. I always have. When I was a kid, I used to sit and pour over the atlas my parents had, making up stories, planning imaginary trips, figuring out how places fit together. They had a historical atlas too, which was even better because it showed how the world changed over time, and included stories with the maps.

I still love them. If I’m bored, or curious about something, I’ll pull out a map or look one up online, and then I’ll get sucked in. And I may have recently come home with a globe from Target. I didn’t need a globe, but I was unable to resist the pull of the low-priced, old fashioned style globe they had on display. Just a couple of months ago I discovered the satellite maps available on Google local and Google Earth. I bet I spent a good hour or two typing in addresses and poking around the satellite photos, scrolling up and down, seeing what happened if I clicked to pull back or zoom in. The Internet can be very cool. And useful.

Well, it all came together perfectly today when I was trying to tell a co-worker who is new to the area how close his house is to this dam that they are worried is going to burst. I was explaining in my vague and not terribly helpful way that I thought that a house at the very back of his neighborhood might be somewhat close, although I wasn’t sure how deep his neighborhood went, but I thought his house would ok. And then it hit me – show him the satellite map! It was perfect. Perfect, I tell you! He could see where his house was and where the lake and the dam were in relation to it, and be reassured. Even better, he was almost as enthusiastic about the satellite maps as I was.

The endless monsoon rains of the past few days must be having an affect on my brain – I have little or nothing new to say. Let’s see…

...someone at the American Legion is mighty confused about who my husband is and what he has done in his life. They just sent him a direct mail piece that asks if he is taking full advantage of the benefits available to him as a war-time veteran. He’s never been in the military. Now, he does have the same name as his dad, and his dad did fight in World War II…but not for the Americans. So no matter who they thought they were mailing, boy are they barking up the wrong tree.

...when we were house shopping, I did not want to move to Frederick. I really, really liked where we lived in Rockville, and wanted to stay closer in. Alas, there were literally no houses in our price range in Rockville, and the few other houses we saw in Montgomery County in our price range were unacceptable to me. And then there were the houses we saw up here in Frederick County, which had everything I wanted. So, we ended up here, and I have come to love it. Sure, I have a long commute, but it is so pretty here. And life really is better just a little bit farther out in the country. The stores are less crowded. The drivers are less insane. We can see more stars in the sky at night. And luckily for us, we ended up on the best street in the best neighborhood on the best side of the city. Or so we think, anyway. But for all the bonuses of living here, there are a few drawbacks. #1 – we desperately need a decent Indian restaurant. There are a couple, but they are bleh. A nice Thai place wouldn’t hurt either. #2 – the shoe store problem. There are a bunch of cute shops in the old town part of Frederick, but they are more gifty/boutiquey kinds of places. There are two malls. I’ve never been in one of them, but I had visited the other one a few years ago for some reason, and I was not impressed, so I haven’t gone since we moved here. But, I need to get a new pair of shoes for work. So on Sunday, I thought to myself, “Maybe it isn’t as bad as I remember it being” and went over to check it out. What I should have remembered is that my pal Becky once described this mall as the one she goes to when she gets homesick for West Virginia. And while West Virginia has many fine qualities (producing Becky and my grandmother, for starters) no one has ever gone on a shoe shopping expedition to WV. I didn’t see one pair of shoes in the whole mall that I even thought was worth trying on. I did pick up some buy one get one free stuff at Bath and Body Works, but other than that, the trip was a complete bust. They are putting in a Barnes & Noble, so I’ll probably go back again once that opens, but I sure won’t be going for shoes. Nordstrom, you are desperately needed in Frederick County!

...I was in the elevator at work the other day with a guy who had a cell phone, a Treo and a pager all clipped to his belt. He didn’t work in my office so I have no idea who he is or what he does, but all I could think was, who needs to be that in touch all the time? And what would it mean if all three of them went off at once? The apocalypse?

…and that’s pretty much all I’ve got tonight.

There are just a couple of items I’d like to bring to your attention, if I may.

First, on Friday, I guest blogged over at Jerri Ann’s after she graciously invited me to write about the changes I’ve been trying to make in my life lately. I think it turned out pretty well, so if you’re interested, please feel free to go check it out.

Second, also on Friday, I got an email from Dallas asking me to help spread the word about the library book drive for the libraries of the Gulf Coast. As a voracious reader and a lifelong library patron, how could I refuse? It is a worthy cause, and one I’m supporting. Go here for details.

I really need to learn to be careful with my big pronouncements. Because naturally, after all my big talk about the new Hillary on Tuesday, I ended up working late and not exercising last night, and then missing yoga and working until after 9 pm tonight.

I did skip the whole pizza and fries for dinner, at least. Last night I made a real dinner. Tonight I had an English muffin with peanut butter and a couple of handfuls of cereal. I was tired, and it was 9:45, dammit. I did catch the very end of the Britney Spears Dateline interview as I munched on my English muffin (too tired to bother changing the channel. John must have watched The Office before I got home.) That girl needs to get herself some new handlers or something, because in just the five short minutes I was watching, she personified, and at the same time also managed to go beyond trainwreck.

Ooh, speaking of trains, I saw two new Metro trains been escorted down 270 on my drive home tonight. Thursday night must be transport Metro traincars night, because I’ve seen them a couple of times on my way home from yoga. It’s cool to see something that big being transported.

Or maybe not all that cool. I’m so tired I can barely see straight, so it is hard to tell. Not that I’m complaining, although missing my workout is not something I can do on a regular basis. As I said before about my current project at work, I love a challenge, and I’ve certainly got one in front of me right now. No danger of getting bored, that’s for sure. Exhausted…yes. Bored…no.

Well Wednesday and Thursday looked remarkably like Tuesday, with the exception that I spent even more time in meetings today, and ended up coming home to work out instead of going to the gym.

They’ve just asked me to take on a very big project at work, so most of my days are going to be like this until, oh, about July 15th or so. This project is a huge deal, and I’m excited they’ve asked me to do it. I’m even more thrilled to have a co-leader tackling it with me, because it would be a lot for one person to handle all on their own. But it is nice to know that they think I’m the right person for the job. And I love a challenge, which this most certainly will be. Not in a bad way. It’s just a complicated project.

A complicated project that I need to go write some notes for, so I’ll keep this short. I did want to weigh in on something though, because it has been bugging me all week. Well, since the last election, really, but it resurfaced this week. I still don’t get all of the hysteria over gay marriage. Why do conservatives feel that gay marriage is a threat to straight marriage? With all of the problems facing this country and the world today, is this really the issue that people think we should be focused on right now? Or is the Bush administration just trying to build some street cred with their unhappy conservative base, while at the same time trying to distract people from focusing on what a mess this country is? Chris has already said all this very eloquently so I’ll just refer you to him, but I would like to add that straight or gay, your marriage is as valid and as special as you make it, based on what you put into it and how you treat the person you are married to. That’s what matters.

6:50 Get up slightly earlier than usual in hopes of getting to work by 9 for once because I have meetings all day starting at 9:30.

7:00 – 7:30 Walk exceedingly cute dog.

7:30 – 7:40 Check blood sugar (108, not too shabby) get snacks ready to take to work.

7:45 Get in shower.

8:00-ish Brush my teeth, get dressed (in skirt that hasn’t fit me in years!), gather my stuff together and get on the road

8:45 45 minutes and I’ve gone eight miles. Damn traffic.

8:55 Give up on getting to eat oatmeal at my desk and start on baggie of Puffins cereal I was bringing for a snack later.

9:02 Traffic finally starts moving at a decent pace.

9:22 Arrive at the office, no doubt making a great impression on the president of the company who is getting on the elevator to go to the 9:30 meeting as I get off the elevator to go by my office first. Damn traffic.

9:30-11:30 Meeting number one goes fine

11:30-12:45 Meeting number two, not so successful. We’ll see. We’re supposed to have lunch, but it doesn’t happen. Now I have no lunch.

12:45-1:00 Read through emails at my desk.

1:00-1:15 Stand in line at Chipotle for salad. I think the Chipotle line would move a lot faster if they ever opened up the second register.

1:20-1:40 Eat Chipotle salad at my desk. I didn’t get the dressing or the sour cream, but they put so much guacamole on this thing that I may well be eating an entire avocado. I sure hope this is raising my good cholesterol.

1:40-2:00 Talk to co-workers, get stuff ready for 2:00 meeting (number three)

2:00-3:30 Meeting number three goes very well, but we don’t get to cover everything we need to discuss. Make plans for meeting three, part 2 later this week.

3:30-3:45 Show up half an hour late for party celebrating a guy who just got promoted to Vice President. Arrive just in time for cake, which I can’t eat. Chat with co-workers, but don’t get the chance to actually congratulate new VP.

3:47 Arrive back at desk to start doing my work for the day.

3:50 Dammit! I missed a call from my brother who is just back from his three week trip to China.

4:00 Oh, maybe that’s Tim calling back now.

4:00:15 Dammit! Nope, not Tim. It’s a copywriter who is going to trap me on the phone and try to a) get me to commit to things I can’t commit to doing and b) pitch me on ideas.

4:15 Free from phone call. Must write copy of my own.

4:30 Take phone call from co-worker. Guess what? Another meeting goes on the books.

4:35-6:00 Work away. Finish copy. Discuss tests for tomorrow. Schedule yet another meeting.

6:00 John calls with story about how Best Buy called, and there’s a problem with my laptop. It seems it went on a rampage at their repair facility, injuring several people before bursting into flames and taking out half a warehouse. No, actually, it has finally been repaired and is ready for pickup! Yay!

6:30-7:15 Go to gym. Put in a solid 45 minutes on the elliptical machine. Try not to compare myself to the tiny, perfectly fit girl who comes in and does what looks like the hardest elliptical machine workout ever. Remind myself of all of the progress I’ve made. Also, if I tried to do that program, I’d keel over and fall off the elliptical machine. And no one wants that.

7:25-7:55 Whole Foods. Why does the healthy food have to cost so much more than the regular food? My grocery bills are insane now.

8:17 Crest the last hill on 270 and see Frederick spread out in the valley in front of me. The drive home is so much better than the drive in to work.

8:25 Pick up laptop from Best Buy. The Geek Squad has tied a little orange bow around it, which is a cute touch. But more importantly, they have fixed my laptop! I’m so happy to have you back little laptop.

8:35-ish Greet dancing, singing beagle. And husband, who is not dancing or singing, but does seem happy to see me.

8:45 Power up computer and discover that the folks at Best Buy have left their Batman DVD in my laptop. At least I know they checked to be sure the DVD player really was working.

9:00 Start reheating leftovers for dinner. Put away groceries.

9:17 Dinner. Veggie meatloaf, vegan gravy, mashed potatoes and corn and peas. Yummy.

10:00 Watch Rescue Me, happily typing away on my laptop. Dear laptop, I love you. Never leave me again. You know what else I love? Rescue Me. Sometimes it gets a little dark and bleak and violent, but it is also well written and acted and interesting.

11:30 Test blood sugar again. 123 – right where it should be.

11:39 Bed time. Good night!

I spent the weekend messing with stuff around the house. After a crazy week at work, I didn’t really want to go anywhere or do anything. So now my flower beds have been weeded (again), my files are organized, delicious meals have been cooked and their leftovers have been packed away in the fridge, the laundry is done and my house is clean. Well, as clean as any house I’m in charge of cleaning will ever be. Which means there’s an untidy pile of magazines stuffed into a corner of the bedroom, doggie nose prints on the windows, and most likely dust bunnies under the couch. I happen to find doggie nose prints charming.

One year in to homeownership, John and I are definitely still loving our house. It is our oasis, our refuge, our palace. I love that we have a little back yard where Seamus can bask in the sun and dig the odd hole. I love how we’ve made it our own. Sure, we still have to sort out what we want to do with the wallpaper in the living room, the dining room/office is kind of a mess and we have no furniture in one of the guest rooms, but it is our place and it is great.

I do have a few questions that I’m hoping those of you who’ve had a house longer than I have can answer. First of all, termites. We had a termite inspection last year before we bought the house, and we didn’t have any. Now the company is sending us notices saying that we should get the house inspected again. Do we really have to do this every year? And then there’s the homeowner’s association. They sent us a notice saying that when they did the spring inspection, our grass needed trimming (possible, depending on the day) our shrubbery needed trimming (done) our tree needed trimming (also done) and our front steps “need maintenance.” Now, my front steps look fine to me. Absolutely fine! They’re not dirty. The railings are painted black and not rusty or anything. And that’s pretty much all I can come up with in terms of front step maintenance. In fact, I would say that my front steps look like my neighbor’s front steps. I called the management company and left them a message telling them I’m going to need a little more guidance than that. They haven’t gotten back to me. What exactly can a homeowner’s association do to me if we disagree about something they say I should do? Can they fine me? Can I ignore them? Anyone got any Homeowner's Association stories?

I’m pleased to say that the whole gardening experiment has turned out to be very successful so far. All of my plants except one have taken root and are spreading out and thriving and looking colorful and pretty. We ordered a bench to put in the back yard, and it looks great already, tucked up against the fence with hanging baskets of flowers on either side. Next weekend I’m going to try my hand at filling the planters we bought to go next to the bench. Plus we have to get something to put in the bear planter the former owners left behind. I know a bear planter sounds lame, but it is actually kind of cute. I’ll put up a photo once it is fulfilling its planter destiny.

I spent a bunch of time in the garden today because a) weeds, fucking weeds and b) the shrubbery needed trimming. The tricky part about the weeding is that I don’t always know what is a weed and what is a plant that I want to keep. I was mostly ok in the back yard, particularly in my converted sandbox, because I picked out all of those plants myself. But in the front? Aside from the obvious (dandelions and grass out of place) I pretty much just decided what had to go based on whether or not I liked the look of the leaves.

I also discovered that trimming hedges is way more work than I thought it would be. It is amazing how much time you can spend hacking away at a bush, only to have it look like you haven’t done anything. In the end, I won the battle of the hedges, but wow, are my hands and wrists sore. I think I discovered muscles in my wrists that I’ve never used before. But, totally worth it. I'm really enjoying figuring all of this stuff out.

Just extremely busy. When last I wrote, I had conducted my big weigh-in and discovered that I had lost 15 pounds. That was my good news. The next day, I had my consult with the endocrinologist, who said pretty definitively that I have diabetes. I had been holding out some small hope that I would go in there and they would tell me it was all a mistake (I do believe that is called dee-ni-al) but in the end I wasn’t as freaked out as I thought I would be. I guess the long wait to get in to see the doctor gave me some time to adjust to the idea. Glad to know there was some upside to the ridiculous delay, although in the interests of full disclosure, I have to admit I wasn’t as calm and collected about it as I would have liked. Just ask John about the tantrum I threw on Monday night as I tried – and initially failed – to load songs on to the iPod my mom bought my brother. And the first time I tested my blood sugar with my fancy new glucose meter, I sat on the bed crying because it hurt to prick my finger and I couldn’t get enough blood to come out to get a reading. I’m finally getting the hang of that. Luckily, I only have to do it twice a day.

The good news is that just by losing some weight and making changes to my diet, I’ve already lowered my blood sugar fairly significantly. The doctor said that if I didn’t want to get pregnant, she’d say I was fine without medication. Since I do want to get pregnant, she wants me to talk to my RE about going on metformin. Which has come up before, so I’ve already called him and the two doctors are supposed to discuss. I really think I should lose some more weight before I go back to trying to conceive though, so it is kind of academic at this point. It was a little odd, because the diabetes doctor kept talking about me getting pregnant as if it was just going to happen, and there I was, all skeptical, like “we can talk about me seeing a high-risk OB when and if I ever actually get pregnant.” At this rate, Britney Spears will be on her third kid before I even get one. But no, I should be more optimistic than that, right?

And then I was off to Asheville to attend my brother’s college graduation. Watch out world, because he’s going to take you by storm. I had been ever so slightly dreading this trip, as it involved a 460 mile drive to North Carolina and a 460 mile drove back to Maryland with just me and my mom in the car. And we would be sharing a hotel room. And John and Seamus weren't coming and I knew I would miss them -- which I did, quite a bit. And my parents hate each other and were likely to be childish. Well, actually, I was worried that my mom would be childish and inappropriate and my dad would be crazy and inappropriate, but it all went pretty well. My mom and I sprang for a mini-suite with two rooms, which may be some of the best extra money I have ever spent. Being able to have my own space to sleep in at night made all the difference in the world. There were times when we got on each other’s nerves (I’ll just refer you back to the rule my mom repeatedly violated during our last visit to Asheville) and I wasn’t thrilled with her insistence that we keep the suite at a cozy (stuffy) 78 to 80 degrees all weekend, but at least I didn’t have to listen to her snoring. And she was great about my diabetes news. You never know exactly which way my mom is going to go, but this time, she was very supportive and helpful.

And now I’m back (as I wrote this, the lyrics to Back in Black started playing in my head Does that happen to anyone else?) So, hi. I’m not dead.

The last few days have been full of contradictions. On Thursday night I attended the worst yoga class ever. The regular teacher got sick at the last minute, and the replacement teacher was just awful. A large portion of the class, including Amy and me, got up and left early. It was supposed to be a flow yoga class, where you move from pose to pose quickly. Instead she had us holding poses for far longer than I’ve ever had to hold them in any yoga class, while she lounged on her mat studying her fingernails. It was truly terrible. But then on Saturday I went to a yoga class at the gym up here and had one of those great classes where everything came together perfectly. I walked out of there feeling loose and limber and ready to take on the world.

Friday brought more of the same, all wrapped up in one day. Laila was in town ever so briefly and we were trying to get together for dinner, but obstacles kept cropping up. First one problem, and then another and another and then yet another which made my day kind of stressful. One long boring story (which I’ll spare you) later (you’re welcome) I ended up having a lovely dinner with Jules and Michael and Laila and her new/old boyfriend John, but alas, not my John. Laila’s John was her boyfriend high school, and again for a while in college, and he has come back into her life recently. He seems to be making her very happy, which makes me happy. It was fun to see him after all this time, although the restaurant was so loud we had a hard time having any real conversation. We were tucked into a corner, which I thought would be good, but it didn’t really help with the noise level. The food was delicious – I had an amazing panzanella salad and fresh whole wheat pasta with asparagus, squash and carrots in an arugula pesto sauce – but the service was agonizingly slow. See? Up and down

And then there’s Best Buy. John and I have been talking about getting a video camera forever, and I finally decided to take part of our income tax refund and just buy one. So, we are now the proud owners of a little Sony mini-DVD handycam. The world should get ready for lots of little movies of Seamus doing things I think are particularly cute. That purchase went smoothly. The Best Buy people were uncharacteristically knowledgeable and helpful and so far I am excited and delighted with my video camera. And then we come to my laptop. I love my laptop. With the exception of being resistant to getting networked with my desktop, it has done everything I wanted it to. Until the CD/DVD player popped out the other day. Not the whole thing, because that I could probably fix on my own. Just the part that slides out so you can put the CD or DVD in and use it. You tap it to open it, and this time, it opened and just kept on going. Now I bought the extended warranty on the laptop figuring I’d fall down the stairs while carrying it or something, so I knew I could get it fixed for free. But what I didn’t know is that they don’t fix it at Best Buy. No, they are shipping it back to Toshiba, and it will take three to four WEEKS to get it fixed and returned.

The biggest up by far was having my big weigh-in today and discovering that I have lost 15 pounds! Yay! I've still got a long way to go, but it is nice to see some progress. I'm a little worried about what the downside could be, but I've decided to hope there isn't one.

I’m watching ER right now – yes, I’m one of the few people who still watches, I’ll admit it – and the episode is all about Darfur. I know it is a fictional TV show, but this time it is about something very real. In fact, I would guess that the reality is worse than what they’re showing on ER. Life has been relentlessly unkind to the people living in Darfur for quite some time now. Since 2003, more than 400,000 people have been killed in the Sudan, 2.5 million have been displaced, and 3.5 million people are already hungry and facing the very real possibility of famine. The civilians are mistreated by the government and the Janjaweed militias. Women and children face an almost constant threat of rape and beatings.

It certainly puts my petty concerns in perspective. I doubt the people of Darfur have time to waste being insecure. And if a woman there is infertile, she may well consider it a blessing. Even if she doesn’t, she certainly doesn’t have the options that are available to me as an American. So instead of whining and worrying and feeling sorry for myself, I think I’ll take some time to be grateful for what I’ve got. And work on doing something positive.

Here are some links where you can learn more about what is going on in Darfur, and what Americans can do to help:

Save Darfur Coalition
Human Rights First
Doctors Without Borders
Unicef

My boss subscribes to a bunch of magazines, and she has started passing them along to me when she’s done, which is very cool of her and awesome for me. I mean, who doesn’t love free magazines? I particularly enjoy InStyle for some reason, even though it doesn’t even remotely relate to my life. I’m terrible at fashion, and would never wear most of the clothes you see in the magazine. I don’t care about $6,000 purses or $800 shoes. Seriously, a $6,000 purse? Does it double as a vacation home in Nags Head for two weeks each year? Is it a magic purse? Because otherwise, I don’t get it. It’s a purse. There’s no way it could be worth $6,000. And while I love shoes, you have to draw the line somewhere, and my line is somewhere south of $800. No matter how pretty they are.

Most recently she passed along a copy of InStyle Home Decorating (or something like that). And it has some interesting articles about paint and tips on simple ways to spruce up a room. It also has this feature called “Blowout and Budget” where an interior decorator creates two similar looking spaces for vastly different amounts of money. It was cool to see, but once again, InStyle and I are diverging on the area of cost. Their “Blowout” patio cost over $25,000. Yep, that’s more than I spent on my car for patio furniture. The “Budget” came in somewhere over $3,000. I don’t know about you, but to me, that still seems a little excessive for outdoor furniture. I say people who are on a budget aren’t going to spend $700 on wall sconces or $900 for a console table when they already have an umbrella table and two small tables on their patio. But perhaps that’s just me.

I have wanted to have a garden for years. I tried to grow a variety of different plants on the balcony of our apartment, but met with failure after failure. Now that I have a little yard to call my own, I’ve been daydreaming about the little garden I want to plant for months. And I’ve been ready to start for the last couple of weeks, but life and the weather keep getting in the way. Saturday, when I had time, it poured all day. Today, when I wasn’t even home, the weather was absolutely perfect. So instead of getting to grub around in the dirt constructing the garden I’ve been imagining in my back yard, I spent the day all dressed up, standing around in heels making inconsequential small talk with a bunch of strangers. Not my idea of a good time, although it was for a good cause. My mom and I were at a Jazz and Chocolate fundraiser for an organization that helps homeless families get homes. So in addition to standing around in heels talking to strangers in a crowded noisy place, I was also in a building full of luscious smelling, delicious looking decadent chocolates that I couldn’t eat. For hours. But it meant a lot to my mom that I went with her, so I’m glad I did it. Even if it means my garden has to wait until next weekend.

Until then, I did manage to get a few very pretty hanging baskets with flowering plants, and John hung them up on the fence today, intuitively putting them up just the way I wanted them. And Seamus has done his part:

Trudge through the drudgery.

My life hasn’t been bad lately, just boring. The five million ordinary details of my day, sucking all of the creative right out of me. Sometimes it feels like my to-do list never gets any shorter. There’s always some new insurance claim denial to dispute, another load of laundry to be done, one more item to be picked up at the grocery store. The high point of my day today was getting to the drycleaners with two minutes to spare. It was quite a triumph, as I was convinced that I was going to arrive at 8:02 the whole way home, and decided to go for it anyway. Actually, that’s not true. The highlight of my day was the way Seamus few across the room to greet me when I got home. And the way that John smiled at me. Anyway, I was talking to someone at work today about writing and I pointed out that the more you write, the better you get. So I decided to take my own advice and write something already in hopes of jump starting my brain again.

I have been awfully tired. I’m pretty sure it is a side effect of my complete overhaul of my diet and activity levels. My poor body is mightily confused. I’m making it work so much harder than it is used to, and it is not getting the sugar and simple carbs that it is used to, but for some reason, it’s not carbs that I’m craving. It’s protein. Oh, and oddly enough, the other day, mint chocolate chip ice cream. Which, if you know me at all, you’ll find particularly shocking, since I do not even like ice cream. Except for real vanilla with hot apple pie. Luckily, not liking ice cream makes it an easy craving to resist.

I will take a moment to pat myself on the back. I’m really sticking with my new plan. Sometimes I don’t get to exercise until late at night, but I do it. I think tonight might have been the least healthy dinner I’ve had in a month, and it was organic frozen pizza (no partially hydrogenated anything), carefully portioned out to stay in the healthy range. I just could not face one more salad, fake meat product or fresh vegetable. I’ll be back on the “Hungry? Eat some veggies” wagon tomorrow. I do think my body is starting to look a little better. I wish it would happen faster, of course, but I’m trying so hard to be realistic. I’m not getting on the scale until May 7, the day before I go in to the diabetes specialist for my evaluation. That way, I can tell her what I’ve been doing and show what sort of effect it has had (or not had) on my body.

There are other reasons to wait to get on the scale. I read an article the other day that said on average it takes about six weeks for you see any real difference when you try to make a change like this. I’m only at the four week mark, and I’d rather not get discouraged. I know my weaknesses, and my perfectionism has been voted “most likely to knock Hillary off track” by the rest of my flaws. It’s quite a distinction, really.

Side note: for some reason, I’m sticking extra c’s in everything tonight. Schocking. Disctinction. What’s that about?

Side note number two (number two, heh, heh): my husband is one of the funniest people I’ve ever met. He just had me laughing so hard I started crying, just by making a face. True, the face was in response to the incredibly unimportant, ditzy and long-winded story I was telling him, but damn was it funny.

Actually, I’m getting fairly sleepy, so let’s make that an end note and I’ll call it a night.

My boss, Amy, and my friend Becky and I have started going to the gym together from time to time. I got them to take a yoga class with me, and they didn’t hate it, so we’re going to do that on Thursday nights. Tonight Amy and I (Becky was busy with far more important matters like going to see Death Cab for Cutie) were going to try a class called Body Sculpting, but when we got in there, they were setting up double steps and getting out all sorts of complicated exercise accessories. She and I both had the same oh, hell, no reaction to that. I can barely handle one step, and that’s in a home environment where I can watch the video a few times so I can get the order right. There is no way I’m not going to wipe out in spectacular fashion with two steps, because I am wildly uncoordinated. And because there is this little thing working against me called gravity.

So instead we went and did the treadmills, which was nice because we could chat the whole time. And then Amy showed me how to use the elliptical machine. I’ve been terrified of the elliptical – it just looked intimidating. Plus, I was sure I would end up like Bill Murray in Lost in Translation, losing control of the machine while it shouted commands at me. But it turns out that it isn’t really hard to use, and I actually kind of liked it. Know what I didn’t like? The weight machines. I have my little free weights I use at home, and I like those fine. I think the weight machines are supposed to make using weights easier, but I just find them complicated. It may be because I am on the short side. They are probably geared toward people who are taller than me (read: just about everyone.) There are too many levers to deal with and adjustments to make before you can even get started, and then you have to study the diagrams to see if you have your feet in the right place or you risk losing a limb or something. No, I am not a fan of the weight machines. Still, I’m going to the gym, which is a good start. The variety between that and exercising at home and yoga classes should help keep me focused. And conquering my admittedly irrational fear of the elliptical machine is a bonus. Go me.

I am powerless in the face of an empty paper towel holder.

If I happen to pass through the kitchen at work and see that the paper towel holder is empty, I am compelled to stop and put a new roll up. My mom would be so pleased to know that her years of nagging have paid off. The irony of course, is that it didn't happen until after I grew up and moved out of her house.

Back when I was in college, I met a friend of a friend who was from Guam or American Samoa, I think. He was very into fitness, and just had a different perspective on many aspects of life, having been raised outside the American mainstream. He didn’t drink, he didn’t smoke, he didn’t eat junk food or consume caffeine. I remember asking him, so what do you do at 2 am when you have five more pages to write on your paper? Because that was when I did my best work, hunkered down in front of my crappy word processor, clutching a Coke in one hand, shoving aside the wrappers for Cheddar & Sour Cream potato chips and Twix bars to flip through reference books and notes and typing with the other hand while a Marlboro Red smoldered in the ash tray. To this day, I’m sure it would feel weird to sit down to write a school paper without my old stand-bys.

But I would have to, since I quit smoking years ago, and all of the rest of that stuff is strictly on the forbidden list for me now. Or at the very least, strictly on the only three or four times per year list. And it is a bit of struggle to get used to a new way of living. On Thursday I was fighting with some copy at work that needed to be energetic and urgent feeling, which is especially tricky when you are the polar opposite of energetic. I just can’t seem to get my body clock to switch so that I can go to sleep at my usual time, which means I’m exhausted in the mornings. I keep hoping I’ll just get worn out enough that I’ll be able to sleep, but so far, no such luck. Now, normally, when I’m feeling low energy I’d just go get a Coke, but now I can’t do that. I’m trying so hard to make good new choices – exercising regularly instead of haphazardly, really changing both the type and quantity of food that I eat, committing to a whole new lifestyle – but part of me is very worried that it just won’t work. That I won’t lose weight or get fit, that I won’t be able to control my cholesterol or blood sugar, that I’ll be tired and have sore muscles for the rest of my life (or until I give up). And worst of all, I worry that I’ll just never be able to come up with that burst of creative energy without the jolt of caffeine or sugar or whatever it was that helped me get going. That copy I wrote last week was most definitely not my best, and yet I couldn’t find a way to make it any better.

Most likely I’ll go back at it tomorrow or Tuesday, and maybe I’ll finally get it right. I have a whole other piece I need to write, which luckily doesn’t have to be written in quite the same strong voice as the two pieces from last week, so I’ll keep my fingers crossed about that one going more smoothly. And outside of work, I’ll keep plugging away here, as well as on a few other creative project ideas I’ve had recently. I hope that if I keep trying things, sooner or later I’ll get my old groove back. Or find a new one.

So, just about the only topic my dad brought up at dinner the other night that didn’t make me want to argue with him was when he asked me if I knew my brother has decided to apply for a job with the police department after graduation. I’ve known about this plan for a while, but haven’t really said anything about it because I’m not sure how I feel.

As you may or may not have noticed, I have a wide anti-authoritarian streak. I don’t like cops, as a rule (and that's just the beginning of a very long list of authority figures I don't like). I do, however, like my brother. And I don’t particularly care for the idea of him having a job where people might shoot at him. I worry that he’s not particularly suited, personality-wise, to be a cop. He’s a bit of a lone wolf, and tends to take his own path in life. Cops, in my opinion, tend to be very conformist. Plus he tends to interpret the world in a very black and white fashion, and I think cops have to deal with a lot of grey areas.

He says it is important to him to find a way to give back to the community, and that he just doesn’t want to be stuck behind a desk somewhere. I maintain that it is possible for him to do that in a job that doesn’t involve guns and Kevlar vests. Am I pleased that he wants to have a job where he is helping other people? Of course I am. I liked it better when he was a volunteer fireman though. When I really think about it, I suppose I should be glad that someone like my brother wants to be a cop. He’d never engage in the cop behavior that I find most objectionable – the bullying and petty abuse of power, the casual racism, the profiling, beating of suspects and manufacturing of evidence that happens all too frequently in America today.

I guess it’s just that I’ve grown cynical. I don’t think he can change a thing. But in the end, he has to live the life that works for him, so I’ll just have to respect his choices – and his authoritay. And hope he can help with speeding tickets.

I’m sure it will come as no surprise that I spent most of the weekend obsessing about healthy stuff in one way or another. I got three books out of the library, which unfortunately are filled with confusing and frequently contradictory advice. For now, I think I’m just going to concentrate on eating foods that seem healthy to me, and getting plenty of exercise.

The one thing all of the books I’ve picked up agree on is that proper foot care is very important. My boss had said something about yellow toenails (which I’m happy to report I do NOT have!) but it goes way beyond that. So, if it turns out that I really do have diabetes – which, sadly, is one of the few other points the books all agree on, that a fasting blood sugar of over 200, more than once, is a pretty definite sign of diabetes – at least I can now enjoy guilt-free pedicures for the rest of my life. They’re not a luxury…they’re a medical necessity. Perhaps even tax-deductible! Ok, probably not tax-deductible. I shouldn’t get too carried away with this whole bright side deal.

Laila and Jules called to check on me, and I got to have a nice long chat with both of them, which was a rare treat. Talking to them went a long way to helping me feel more positive.

In between worrying about this stuff, I fit in a trip to Target, where I picked up a cute new purse. I’ve been looking for a new purse for while, so it was nice to finally find one I like. Oh, and I also bought Advil Cold & Sinus at Target, which was a huge production. In order to get it, I had to take a card to the pharmacy, hand over my driver’s license, wait while the pharmacist typed all of my information into the computer (although I never changed my name on my license after I got married or my address after we moved, so, ha! there’s some misinformation for Big Brother) and then sign for it, too. All because of stupid meth heads buying it. How much meth could you even get from 20 little tablets anyway? I dealt with the hassle this time because I had a coupon, but I’m seriously considering a switch to something easier to buy in the future.

And then tonight, we had my dad over for dinner. Dinner with my dad makes me sad. That’s all I really have to say about that.

In closing, I’d just like to ask: Is anyone else as disturbed by bald Howie Mandel as I am? I find him seriously creepy now.

Since Thursday, I’ve spent a bunch of my time obsessing over the whole getting healthy plan. The doctor’s office left me a message at home on Friday afternoon asking me to call them on Monday about some of my test results. Nothing to worry about, she said, but please give us a call. I just know they are going to tell me about some other problem, like high cholesterol or something. Sigh.

Anyway, I’ve been making lists in my head of all of the changes I’m going to have to make. I’m a big one for lists. What I’m going to eat, or not eat. How I’m going to fit in exercise. It’s easy enough on the weekends, but it can be a little tricky during the week. I’ll spare you the whole in and out list. It’s mostly pretty obvious stuff anyway. Out: Krispy Kremes and cheese fries. In: regular exercise and portion control. I went to the grocery store and spent about $100 on groceries. Why is it that the healthy food is so damn expensive? If I have to be sore from trying to get back in shape and if I have to deny myself junk food and other tasty treats, shouldn’t I at least get to save some money?

It does feel good to exercise, even if I am sore and a little depressed about how much work lies ahead. I don’t know how I went from being a relatively fit person to such an out of shape lump. I just turned around one day and that’s the way it was. And sadly, I’m pretty sure I’m never just going to turn around and discover my old body has come back. But hopefully, with a little work, I can get it back. Or do even better.

I had my annual checkup yesterday, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to quit screwing around and get serious about getting in shape. There was a time, not so long ago, when I was fit. I wasn’t necessarily as thin as I could have been, but I was still in shape. And before that, I was at a decent, if not perfect weight. I’m not sure I could ever weigh my perfect weight, which I believe is supposed to be 107 pounds. I haven’t seen 107 pounds since I was about 14. Sadly, yesterday I learned that I’ve gained five pounds. My weight is supposed to be going in the other direction! And they said that my glucose looked high, although that could have been because I sat in the parking lot outside the doctor’s office and scarfed down a burrito five minutes before my appointment. See, I thought they were getting lunch in after this meeting that I had from 9:30 to 12:00. But the meeting ended early, and no lunch appeared. And I had to run to the bank before the doctor’s so I just picked up food along the way.

Anyway, my fertility doctor already had me going for a repeat fasting glucose and insulin, which I did this morning, so I guess we’ll have an answer about my blood sugar one way or another soon. Oh, and then there was the depressing conversation I had with the regular doctor about the fact that yes, I do monthly breast exams, but I worry that if I ever did get a lump, I would just think it was another cyst, because I have so many cysts. And she said that just means that I have to extra careful to get mammograms every year once I hit 40. Which didn’t seem like such a big deal, until I thought about it and realized that 40 is only five years away. How the fuck did that happen?

Anyway, I think the five pound weight gain, the sudden realization that 40 is not all that far off (yes, I know, it’s not like my own age is a surprise to me, but still, I’m a little freaked out. Let’s blame my poor math skills and move on.) and the glucose issues –PCOS related or not – is my wake up call. I don’t want to end up like my dad, with high blood pressure, high cholesterol, a quintuple bypass and diabetes. The time to act is now. And so act I will. I have so many motivations for doing it – increased fertility, general health, a closet full of clothes that don’t fit, and then there’s the whole self confidence/self image benefit. Just prepare yourselves. I may be a little cranky as I figure out my new routine.

I made it down to the doctor’s on time on Friday. Things got off to a rocky start when the gas light came on as I pulled out of my neighborhood. Luckily, there was no traffic at 6:30, so I was able to fit in a stop at the gas station. There was, however, plenty of traffic at 7:07. Right as I was getting off the highway the traffic was coming to a dead stop. Anyway, I got to the doctor’s office exactly at 7:15. Naturally, the doctor was late. But once he arrived everything moved very efficiently. The test itself hurt quite a bit more than last time – at one point I actually had that simultaneous hot and freezing clammy feeling you get right before you pass out, but they finished up very quickly. And in even better news, this time, my right tube was open. I got to see the replay of the test afterwards, and while the right tube is a little twisty looking, I got to see the dye going through. I’m not entirely sure why it would have changed, but I’m hoping that this is a good sign.

In other news, John and I helped my mom move out of her office today, which was both much better than I thought it would be and really crappy, because moving heavy objects pretty much always sucks. I thought it was going to take us forever to get everything out of there, but my mom had finally gotten everything boxed up and it only took us two trips with the van. She has a basement office, which meant that we had been hauling everything up two flights of stairs, but for today she has arranged for the guy in the office next to hers to come in and open up his back door so we could roll everything out that way. Which sounded great until I got in his office and saw that the path to the door was lined with bookcases filled with fragile glass souvenirs from all the trips he’s taken (he’s a travel agent.) Yep, pretty much my worst fucking nightmare. By some miracle, we got all of the furniture out of there without destroying anything. There was one enormous black file cabinet which nearly defeated us. John and I wrestled it out the door and across the grass, but it kept falling off the dolly. Thank goodness my mom was tucked inside and couldn’t hear all the swearing we did at the ridiculously heavy filing cabinet, at each other, at the world at large.

Since we had the van, we stopped by that auction place to see if they had any furniture we might want. They had two chairs I quite liked, but of course, the chairs I liked sold for $250. The two chairs that John liked that I didn’t particularly want? Yeah, we got those for $20 a piece. Plus, my mom gave us a desk and a file cabinet (not the heavy one) if something that you make someone take because you don’t want to get rid of it and can’t fit into your house can be called a gift. So we had to move all of that into the house. And now my whole body hurts. My back, my knees, my arms and most especially my hands. My poor hands ache like you wouldn’t believe. I obviously need to work on my upper body strength. But not for a day or two.

So last night, when I was writing about my weekend? I had taken Excedrin PM because my back urn from all the moving. Which means I was very sleepy and completely forgot three items I wanted to mention.

Item #1:
When John’s aunts came to the house, they brought us bread, salt and wine (or in our case, sparkling cider, because John doesn’t drink). They said it was an old Irish housewarming tradition – John’s mom’s family is Irish, but they grew up in London – and there was a blessing which went with it, explaining what each gift was for. It almost made me cry at the time, and yet somehow I’ve managed to forget it already. Something about the bread so we’d always have plenty, the wine so our lives would be sweet, and I can’t remember what the salt was for. But it was really touching and very meaningful, I swear.

Item #2.:
John doesn’t like cake, so I always try to surprise him with some sort of creative birthday sweet. This year I made a chocolate soufflé with a white chocolate sauce and strawberries. It turned out really well and I just wanted to brag a bit. I’ve never made a soufflé before. It wasn’t all that hard, but my arm did just about fall off from having to beat the egg whites so long.

Item #3:
My new RE has both John and me taking Doxycycline. Me because I’m having a new HSG done on Friday and there’s apparently a risk of infection with that test, and both of us because we could have a “sub-clinical inflammation” of some sort that contributes to infertility. Apparently they just have everyone do a course of antibiotics rather than testing for these “sub-clinical” whatevers because they don’t always show up when you look for them. Or something like that. So, first of all, I sat down and read all of the literature that came with the Doxycycline, and it is a little frightening. You must take it with food, but don’t take it with dairy. Don’t take within two hours of taking a multivitamin. Do drink a whole glass of water. And on and on. I shouldn’t read that stuff. But once I was on an antibiotic and didn’t read the instructions and it turned out you were supposed to start taking it at night because it could make you really dizzy, and it did, in fact, make me really dizzy, and nauseous. Anyway, I’ve had three doses, and so far, nothing scary has happened, so I’ve decided maybe the little drug pamphlet was just a tad alarmist.

But, that brings me to my second point which is, I had an HSG before, and my old doctor didn’t prescribe antibiotics for me. And if there is a risk of infection, I’d like to know why not. Is there debate about whether or not this is helpful or necessary? What if we have this sub-clinical thingy and all we’ve needed for the past two and a half years was antibiotics? Although, doubtful, because I know there are other problems. But still, it makes me wonder.

You know what a hungry, tired, PMS-having woman should not do? She should not go to the grocery store. I found myself wandering the store this evening in a disorganized fashion, randomly putting food in my cart, drifting from aisle to aisle, periodically having to double back. When I passed by the syrup and pancake mixes, the syrup smelled so good that I had to suppress the urge to grab a bottle and start doing shots of syrup.

Not that I would actually do it – I’m pretty sure shots of syrup would be would be disgusting in reality. I did buy four Krispy Kreme donuts though (two for me and two for John) and ginger ale, but considering the alternative, that doesn't sound so bad, does it?

I’m watching Deadwood on HBO right now, and that’s the line someone just said. He’s got the town’s first bicycle and they’re taking bets on how his ride around the town will go. I love the dialogue on this show. No one talks like these people do, but it would make life more interesting if they did.

Another weekend is drawing to a close. I wish they didn’t go by so quickly. I didn’t get to half of the things I wanted to get done. I’m trying to get my little home office organized, but I barely got started. I was going to do our taxes, but never quite got to it. Currently, I’m ignoring a pile of laundry, a pile of newspapers, and some pots and pans that need washing.

We got our first real snowstorm yesterday, conveniently on the weekend when I didn’t have to get back and forth to work. Seamus was so excited about the snow he started trying to get me up at 5 o’clock this morning, flipping his ears over and over until I told him he were most definitely going out for two more hours. It was cute to see him acting like a little pup, except for the “at 5 am” part. When we did get up and go out, he bounded through snow up to his chest at times, full of enthusiasm. I was amazed to see that some of my (annoying, overachieving) neighbors had already gotten up and shoveled their walks. Who gets up at 6 am, on Sunday, and shovels while it is still snowing? You’re just going to have to shovel again, so it’s not like you are saving yourself any work. Now, I personally went back to bed after walking Seamus around a bit. I was freezing, and still tired. And John did the shoveling anyway.

The only other time it snowed, I cleared the walk and the car myself because John was still sleeping and I didn’t see any reason to get him up. Everyone – including John – seemed to think that was weird, so I caved to peer pressure and let him do the shoveling this time. I’m fine with that decision. Animals, drunks and sundries -- and snow -- cleared from my passage.

The talented, smart and funny Sheryl has declared this de-lurking week, after a very successful de-lurking day last year. And boy am I glad she did! I missed de-lurking day almost completely last year because I had to work late. And talk about a shocker – I would have missed it yesterday and today too, because I had to – wait for it – work late! Oh, I was all full of good intentions last night, but I had a really crappy day. I was feeling really beaten down by my job for some reason so when I got home after nine, I decided that really, what I wanted to do was eat junk food for dinner and watch a movie with John. We consumed a ridiculous amount of unhealthy food and watched Layer Cake, a British gangster movie, which was ok. It was overly complicated and sometimes I had trouble understanding what some of the people were saying. But any movie with the phrase “she done a runner and legged it back to London” can’t be all bad. Plus, Daniel Craig and Sienna Miller are pretty to look at.

Which brings us to today. My day today was just as busy as yesterday, if not busier, but for some reason it didn’t get me down today. At one point, I actually had two people in my office for question A, a third person stopped in with question B, and fourth person came by with question C, my boss dropped in with question D, and two more people stacked up in the hallway waiting to talk to me. Which is just wrong, but I had a lot going on today. And I got it all done, too.

But the whole point of this post is to encourage people to comment.

So please, if you’re a lurker, I’d love it if you said hello!

Got any mooning to do? Have I got good news for you! A judge declared today that mooning is legal in Maryland. What does it say about me that it never even occurred to me that mooning might be illegal? Don’t get me wrong – I haven’t been running around mooning people, nor do I plan to start. I just think this story is funny.

On a totally different note, did anyone see David Letterman last night? Bill O’Reilly was on and Dave showed him to be the idiot he is. Go Dave! I’ve always liked you, and now I like you even more.

And finally, work has set a new land-speed record for totally stressing me out and kicking my ass. No details, just a small whimper. Thank goodness it is a short week.

*For those not fortunate enough to be a native of Maryland (aka the mooning state) Maryland, my Maryland is our state song. It is sung to the tune of O Tannenbaum.

Day two of the new year was much better than day one. John and I did what we should have done on Sunday, and stayed home, hung out and relaxed. Which brings me to this morning's request: May I have another week of vacation, please?

Once I get in to the office, I will be fine. In fact, I'll probably be so busy I won't even have time to wish I was at home. But right now, I'd really rather just go back to bed.

I do like this money that they pay me for showing up though, so I guess I'd better quit screwing around and just go to work already.

Here's hoping we all have nice, smooth, easy weeks to start out the new year.

Here is a photo of the AC/DC ornament in its natural habitat.

You’d get a longer post, but I worked over 11 hours today, and went to the grocery store, the ATM and the store that was closed yesterday morning. Nothing says fun like killing yourself to get to work by 8:30 so the video crew can have an attitude with you. And so that one of the people being videotaped can ignore the specific directive to NOT wear stripes or patterns and, in fact, wear a striped shirt with a pinstriped suit. Which I should have known was going to happen, but still, grr.

So, in closing, here are a couple of cute photos of my Seamus that were also on the camera.

Oh, and not to brag, but Becky was right when she commented about my cookies on the last post. I do make amazing oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. This year, my team members will also be getting oatmeal cranberry white chocolate chip and either Dutch cocoa cookies or snickerdoodles. As will my family members, with the addition of sugar cookies. But not tonight.

Yesterday I had an undeniable craving for potato salad, to the point where I actually bought a little container of it at Whole Foods and ate some.

This is weird because I hate potato salad. I hate all of the deli “salad” family – macaroni, cole slaw and **shudder** egg. I think mayonnaise is the devil’s own condiment. I don't even like to look at mayonnaise! Back before I was a vegetarian, my hatred extended to tuna salad and chicken salad too. I even went so far as to invent a tuna salad made with Dijon mustard, lemon and capers so that I didn’t have to eat mayo. That’s why it’s extra ironic when I get the “can’t you just eat the tuna?” question now, since no, I can’t. But even if I did eat seafood, tuna salad would be right out.

Now I’m a big believer in the “your body craves what you need” school of thought, unless, of course I’m craving obvious junk food cheese fries and chocolate cake. But I’m pretty sure there’s no special nutrients in potato salad!

The Hughes company, a defense contractor, has an enormous “Peace on Earth” Christmas decoration displayed outside their building on 270.

Now that’s ironic (quite unlike rain on your wedding day, which is not, in fact ironic at all. That lyric has bugged me for years, can you tell?)

Amy asked for my silliest college mishap, and it was hard to pick just one. This is just the first story of many, I’m sure, because I loved college. I went to an awesome school…I had the best friends I could imagine…and an amazing time all around. It wasn’t all perfect – I had some serious struggles with depression and I had ridiculous self confidence problems. But I learned a lot and had a lot of fun and have many a story to tell.

There are a number of candidates for silliest mishap. Ariane, Emily, Julie and I once spent a Friday evening killing off a bottle & a half of tequila and got into a magic marker fight. It all made so much sense at the time, but try explaining that one to other people after the fact. And yes, people could tell. Then there was the time that Jules, Emily and I spent an entire day studying for our Egyptian Art final, quizzing each other in odd, Monty Pythonesque voices, only to discover that we couldn’t stop talking that way. No one else wanted to have anything to do with us that night. Or the time Ariane and I rolled two enormous joints with a cigarette roller and got so high we couldn’t move. She passed out on the futon, and I lay on the bed thinking, “If I move, I’ll die” for hours. Or what felt like hours anyway. In case you don’t know (not everyone was a delinquent like me!) joints are usually way skinnier than cigarettes…for a reason.

The more I think about it, the more stories I come up with. But the silliest story of all was probably the time Lucie and I stole a cow.

This has not been the most action-packed blog of late. I’m sorry for that. I’ve been feeling distracted…and somewhat cocoonish, I guess is the best description. And busy with work, of course, as always. Plus uncreative and, well, boring.

Speaking of boring, there is nothing more boring than spending a day like the one I just had. The majority of my day was spent writing about options trading for beginners and watching a video about options trading. But not so simple as just watching and then being done with the video. Oh no, I was looking for clips I can use for a specific purpose so I got to watch and rewind and watch and rewind. Was that at 01:11:45 or 01:11: 42? And tomorrow? More of the same. Whoop-ti-do!

But back to the lack creativity ‘round these parts lately. While I haven’t been writing as much here, my brain has still been working. And yep, it turns out I’ve still got plenty to say. Starting tomorrow, I plan to launch my version of Bad Penguin: Behind the Music, holding forth on a number of topics that have been floating around in my head lately. So if there’s any behind the scenes info you’ve ever wanted to know about me, now’s the time to ask.

Well, trying to anyway. I still haven’t hired a new marketing manager, but with my boss back, I’m trying to start changing my habits. For example, on Monday, instead of staying late to finish my spreadsheet, I brought it home with me. I didn’t work on it at all, but I got home earlier than usual. I had to rush to get it done by 10 am on Tuesday, but I pulled it off. So perhaps it takes little time for the whole new leaf thing to really start working.

My 2nd attempt is coming up – I’m taking Friday off. I’ve been exhausted, uncreative and unfocused all week and I think I need a day to recharge before my next big project gets busy next week. Of course, that means I have five, yes, five, pieces of copy to write tomorrow since I won’t be in on Friday, but in the end I think it will be worth it. I shall sleep in and laze about, dispensing belly rubs for Mr. Seamus and maybe reading a book. I will not clean anything. Maybe I will go check out the gym I’ve been meaning to join so I can take yoga classes again. If the weather is nice, John and I can take Seamus to the park for a hike. It’ll be great! I’ll get the hang of this new leaf deal yet.

And I think they will be ok. Busy, but dreading them will probably turn out to have been worse than actually living them. My boss is very smart – last night she took me out after work and plied me with Cosmopolitans and cheese fries as we went through the three page list of projects I have to complete and/or keep moving along over the next two weeks while she’s out of the office and I’m down one employee. Well, just one Cosmopolitan really, as I did have to drive home.

But the alcohol and the cheese fries took the edge off as we discussed details, potential problems, strategies and people I can call on for help if I need it. Of course, we had to squeeze in a little talk about her wedding, too. It’s funny. I was so worried about her taking over as my boss back in March, but it has turned out very well. Even better, I think I will make it through the next two weeks after all. At least, day one went ok. Whew!

I went to Target tonight after work – a trip which took about twice as long as it should have because I was so damn tired – at one point, I found myself standing in the aisle, peering around confusedly because I couldn’t remember what the hell I was going to get next. I’m working so much that I’m actually getting less intelligent. Hopefully that will only be a temporary condition.

Anyway, they’ve created this enormous candy section for Halloween. In September. And I started wondering, who the hell buys Halloween candy this early? How can you buy Halloween candy six weeks before Halloween and still have it on October 31st? If I bought some now, I’d be lucky to have it last until the end of the week.

Every night when I come home, there is a moment where I come over a big hill on the highway and laid out in front of me is the city of Frederick, with farms in the distance and mountains behind it. This is Maryland, so the mountains are more like very big hills, but it is very pretty and it is home. One of these days I’ll have to stop at the scenic overlook there and take a photo to share.

But last night, just before I crested the hill, the sky lit up, flashed purple and then bright green. It was very cool looking. Setting aside the most logical explanation for a moment – fireworks at a Keys game – I wondered, what could that be? We weren’t having thunderstorms. That leaves:

1. Magic. Harry Potter is real and we are all muggles, or perhaps Buffy the vampire slayer/Willow-style magic! Wouldn’t that be awesome? Not being a muggle, but if magic existed.
2. Aliens. Also an excellent option. I would love to see a UFO. Provided they weren't evil alien overlord types who just want to enslave or kill us, of course.
3. “Philadelphia Experiment” type incident at Fort Detrick. As my husband mentioned in a highly theoretical and somewhat confusing discussion we had the other night, we could be living in a different dimension as we speak and not even know it.

But it was probably just fireworks.

I spent what may have been the most boring morning of my life wandering around Wal-Mart today while I waited for two new tires to be installed on my car. The Wal-Mart employees were all very pleasant and my new tires seem to be perfectly acceptable tires, but man did it take a long time for those tires to be installed. Why does everything in Wal-Mart have to play music, flash lights or make some other sort of noise? And then there’s the constant announcements on the store PA. That store comes close to Toys R Us for sheer ability to put me on edge.

Then I went to work and worked. My, what a dashing and delightful existence I lead.

I came home intending to answer some emails and cruise around my blogroll, scattering my morsels of wisdom in the form of insightful and humorous comments. But instead I found myself lying on the couch, unable to break the spell cast by a repeat of Law & Order. It was a crossover episode to the regular Law &Order from the early days of SVU when Benson still had long hair. Fascinating! That meant that John and I didn’t even eat dinner until 9:30, and then I had to go walk Seamus in the rain. Now I’m afraid the Internet is going to have wait just a little bit longer – breathlessly, I’m sure – for whatever brilliance my mind has to offer, because I am going to bed.

Can someone please explain to me the logic behind running in the street with the cars and other assorted traffic when there is a perfectly good sidewalk a foot and a half away? Lots of runners do it, so there must be a reason, but I don’t get it.

Of course, I never run anywhere if I can help it, so I may not have the proper mindset.

…is put down the crack pipe. Because this statement from my last post “But tomorrow I should get home a decent hour, and I will try again then” was so wrong as to be absurd. I had so much work to do on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday that I didn’t get home until after 8 each night. I’d tell you all the stuff I had to do, but it wouldn’t mean anything – you’ll just have to accept my word that I pulled off an amazing amount of work in those three days. And also managed to go to the doctor, get blood drawn, go to another lab, and handle decorations for the work wedding shower we had for my boss. Because I am SuperEmployee. Actually, if I’m going to be a superhero, I’d rather be BatEmployee. You know, with Batman being way cooler than Superman and all.

This weekend was chock full of doctor visits, lab visits, errand running and chores around the house. I think I got to spend about an hour relaxing with John and Seamus each day. I need another weekend, please. I did manage to find a decently priced set of king-sized sheets for the airbed at Ross. Nice thread count too. Never let it be said that I don’t at least try to be a thoughtful hostess.

Of course, I went to inflate the airbed last night (Jules and Malcolm arrive in my neck of the woods today) and the air pump that I bought? Yeah, it’s made to plug into a cigarette lighter. Hopefully they sell some other kind at Target, or some store that it is easy for me to get to before 7:30 tonight. Damn details tripping me up again!

Not so great with the details.

For example, my friend Jules and her son Malcolm are coming to visit next week. Which first of all, yay, because they are far away in New Hampshire and I miss them. But anyway, they will be our first overnight guests, and I got to thinking that the bed in the guest room isn’t really big enough for two people. Also, it is an antique, so it is very high off the ground, so probably not so great for a 21 month old. And I happened to notice that they had these queen sized airbeds on sale at Target this week…so problem solved, right? Except that when I got to Target, I saw that the king sized air mattresses were the very same price as the queen sized ones, and thinking “hey, even more room for the same price! I know, I’ll get the king sized one.” Great plan. With just one flaw, which I didn’t realize until last night. We don’t have any king sized sheets. Oops.

And then there’s Mumbai. That’s what they call Bombay now, if you didn’t know. I had noticed this in a vague way, but hadn’t really paid much attention. But today, I was reading an article and it talked about Mumbai (formerly Bombay) and I got curious. So I looked it up in Wikipedia, and it turns out they changed the name back in 1995! Hi, I’m so oblivious, I’m a decade behind the times. And I consider myself to be an informed, citizen of the world type. How did I miss this? The amount of time I’ve spent in Indian restaurants consuming Indian food over the last ten years alone should have given me enough exposure to the fact that the city had a new name.

And this inability to pay attention to details is, I’m sure, exactly why I still can’t get my laptop to connect to the internet. But I will figure it out sooner or later and…well, I don't really know what the benefit for you in that is. More frequent posting because I don’t have to arm wrestle John for control of the computer? You may or may not see that as a bonus, but I’m excited about it.

Welcome to my new site!

So what do you think? Didn't Zoot do an awesome job? I am thrilled with it. I'm still figuring out Flickr, but you can see some photos over there in the sidebar. And look how pretty everything is.

I'm still a little dopey on the painkillers, so I'm keeping this short. But I hope you like the new digs!

This morning, I, Bad Penguin, notorious hater of mornings, actually got up and exercised before work. I didn’t whack myself in the head with a hand weight or anything, and I felt very virtuous all day!

It went so well that I’m going to do it again tomorrow morning.

I do feel a little bad about that blizzard that hit Hell today though. Those poor bastards never saw that coming.

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My new home, which I love by the way, is quite a bit farther out from the city than I’ve ever lived before. For the most part, I like it, but I am going to have to do some adjusting.

There are a lot fewer people out here for one thing. Which has its benefits, like less noise and light pollution, more green space, and a lot less crowding. I can go to Target on Saturday afternoon and not have to fight for a parking space, push my way past people to get down the aisles, and or stand in line forever to check out.

It is beautiful around here. As I walk around my new neighborhood with Seamus, I have multiple views of the mountains in the distance. Just the other night I discovered that we can see the fireworks displays that they put on at the minor league baseball stadium. And we’re right on the edge of all of the development, so if we drive for five minutes or so, there’s nothing but farmland and parkland, which is a welcome change from Rockville Pike.

And, of course, there’s just the plain old joy of homeownership. John and I are convinced that we live in the best neighborhood around, and every day we find something else we like about our place.

However, there are some drawbacks. The commute, while not horrendous just yet, is long, and can get quite trafficky. That’s no fun, particularly for a person who has had a 15 minute commute for the last five years.

Those checkout counters where I don’t have to wait in line? Are staffed by people who want to have conversations with me and make comments about my items. That keeps throwing me for a loop. And if there are any people in line, it takes forever because of all the chit chat!

Hummus seems to be an exotic foreign food. None of the grocery stores have it. Whole Foods and Trader Joes are something like 30 miles away. There are no Thai restaurants, although I believe there are two Indian restaurants for us to try. One of the main attractions at the community picnic was the gun safety presentation. Not that I don’t think gun safety is important (if you have a gun, you’d damn well better know how not to shoot yourself or someone else by accident), but for someone like me, it is a whole different culture where that is a focus along with the moonbounce and the snocones.

Adjustments aside though, I love it here. No regrets. Not a one. Even if I do have to learn to make small talk with cashiers.

So, days ago Bluepoppy had this idea where she would interview people, and they would answer her questions on their blogs and then they would, in turn, interview people who asked to be interviewed, and so on. And I was all eager “pick me! Interview me!” and then I did nothing with the questions she sent me for days, because I am lame. Also, I got lost in a huge stack of boxes in my dining room and couldn’t find my way back to the computer for a couple of days. But, without further ado, here are my Bluepoppy questions and my answers. If you want to play, I’ve posted the official rules at the end.

1. What was your best movie experience ever?
This is actually a very tough question to answer. I couldn’t decide if it meant what is the best movie I’ve ever seen, or what is the best time I’ve ever had at the movies. And really, those are two very different things. Plus, I’m not sure that the best movie I’ve ever seen is. I can’t pick just one. But my favorite movie memory is probably of the first time I ever went to the movies. It is one of my earliest memories too, although not the earliest. My mom took me and my best friend Suzie Gallagher to see a theater release of Snow White (we didn’t have VCRs back in the Stone Age – they came along a few years later) and I remember being so awed by the whole experience. It was magical and exciting, and Snow White was beautiful and everyone sang songs and the evil witch was defeated by the dwarves. Plus, they showed a little short before the main feature about a girl stuck in an avalanche, and her name was Suzie, just like my best friend! So cool. See, Disney movies aren’t always scarring to the developing psyche of a little girl.

2. If you could go back in time to visit a different time/place,
where would you go and why? And, how long would you stay there?
Paris in the 1880’s-1890’s. There was so much happening – the Eiffel Tower, the building of the Metro, the art scene, the writers, the political thinkers. As for how long I would stay…I don’t know. It would all depend on how much I missed my regular life, I suppose. Or how dirty and smelly 19th century Europe was. I do like my modern conveniences.

3. What's your favorite curse word? Consarnit! No, not really. Fuck, probably. It’s just an all around reliable standard curse word. Although you should never underestimate the value of a good “rats!”

4. What are 3 classes you wish you had taken either in high school or college? A lit class. I don’t know as much about the classics as I should. Definitely some sort of media or film class, although they didn’t offer all that much in that area of study when I was at Wellesley. I hear they’ve changed that now. And this isn’t really a class, but it is a school-related regret – I really wish I had done a semester abroad when I was in college. I think I missed out by staying at school for the whole four years.

5. What do you think this country (USA) will look like 30 years from now?
My answer to this one really depends on the day. Sometimes it feels like we’re headed toward some Margaret Atwood Handmaid’s Tale type future, where the conservatives have restricted everyone’s lives to fit their narrow world view. A world where the environment is trashed, resources are scarce, women, gays and religious minorities are oppressed and the rich live obscenely profligate and irresponsible lives. Where America is a truly fascist country that is hated by the rest of the planet and contributes nothing to the betterment of humankind. That’s on my more pessimistic days.

And then other days I think that we can only do better from here. I’d like to believe that we can get back to a place where Americans are the good guys again. Where we are a force for peace in the world, and provide a positive model for change. Where we have an open and innovative society – a society that values and cares for all of its members. Of course, sometimes I’m a little overly optimistic.

Then again, in 30 years, I may have given up and moved to Canada.

The Official Interview Game Rules
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

John is being quite insistent that I have to write something new on my actual blogiversary instead of just saying that it is coming up. I wouldn't want to be improper!

And it actually did occurr to me that I should explain that this is the anniversary of when I started my first blog, Hilldery. It's still out there, but I moved here to Bad Penguin after I got outed at work and ran into a little trouble. I know there's a good chance some people from work followed me here, but at least I have the illusion that they aren't reading.

And I never talk specifically about work anymore. I learned that lesson.

Anyway, I've officially observed the anniversary now, right? It is bedtime for bad penguin.

• Working. My job does keep me busy, and I’ve recently taken on a new project.

• Shopping for our new living room. So far we’ve established that couches cost more than we thought they would and that I think leather couches smell yucky. At least we’ve managed to purchase one new item – a nice big TV.

• Having a surprise endometrial biopsy. Surprise! I wonder if those words have ever been used together before. I thought I was there to discuss treatment plans, which I was, but we also did the biopsy.

• Sorting through books and other items to decide what we’re keeping (and packing and moving) and what we’re selling or giving away. There’s still a lot to be done.

• Researching and booking movers. Wow, there are a lot of scary stories about moving out there! But I’m using a company that two people at work have used successfully, so hopefully our move will go ok.

• Knitting up a storm. My sister-in-law is due to go into labor any second now, and the blanket for my niece isn’t even halfway finished. I really wish I could knit faster.

• Hanging out with Laila and Noah. Noah has learned my name and yells it out when he sees me. That gives me a nice feeling. I will really miss them when they go back to San Francisco.

And I’m sure I’ll only get busier from here, since moving day is just one month away. Let the countdown begin!

Seamus and I go for a walk at about the same time every morning. We see the same group of dogs every day. Some of the dogs are Seamus’ friends – McGruff the hound, a really sweet Chesapeake Bay retriever, a lab mix walked by a woman I call bag patrol (she’s completely obsessed with whether or not people are picking up after their dogs). Other dogs, he doesn’t like so much. There’s the little yippy white dog he wants to eat. The Great Dane who Seamus loves, but who doesn’t like him.

And then there’s Jasmine. She’s a black lab mix who hates pretty much every dog she meets, except for Seamus. She just loves Seamus, so her owner always wants to bring her over to say hello. The owner is trying very hard to socialize Jasmine properly and give her positive reinforcement. And Seamus likes her ok, but every once in a while, I get the feeling he’s saying “But she’s dorky. Why do I have to play with her?”

And I just make him say hello anyway, because it is the nice thing to do. I'm sure I'll do the same thing to my kids too, and make them hang out with the misfits and the underdogs. Is that mean? Will it be like Marge making Bart hang out with Raplh Wiggum on the Simpsons? Because I think the misfits and the underdogs are frequently more interesting than everyone else, and I'd like to enoucourage my (I know, currently non-existent ) children to give everyone a chance.

A sad anniversary.

When I got the call from Jules’ office, my first thought was that they were calling to tell me that she had lost the baby and needed me. But I was wrong. So very wrong. Instead, I heard words I couldn’t bring myself to believe: Leo killed himself this morning. He shot himself in his car.

Leo was my friend Jules’ fiancé, soul mate and best friend. She met him two weeks after I convinced her to move down to DC with me from Boston. I didn’t want to like him. In fact, I was pretty resentful of him at first, because she fell for him hard, and all of a sudden there was this guy who was always in my house.

Little by little though, he won me over. He was just so damn charming, and sweet and funny. He would tease me and call me his B.B. (butt buddy) because I’ve got a bit of an ass, and he was an ass man. I would tease him about the fact that we met him at Tracks (a gay club). We were both Redskins fans, although I couldn’t come close to his knowledge of football. He loved PlayStation and the Harry Potter books. He was raised a Baptist (and a full-on Southern Baptist at that) but he also believed in reincarnation. And he had the greatest laugh. You couldn’t resist Leo when he laughed.

But when he was down, he was really, really down. I knew of at least one other time that he tried to kill himself. Jules and I had even talked about how worried she was about how depressed he had been. I guess we couldn’t conceive of him actually doing it. He was so excited about the baby on the way, and he had told her he would get help, for his own sake, for her sake, and for their baby’s sake. But for some reason, on that day he gave up.

I don’t know quite how to express what it is like to realize that someone you care about has chosen not to exist anymore. It’s like getting punched so hard you can’t breathe, while adrenaline rushes through your body like you’re about to go over a cliff. You can’t sit still. You want to go rushing out to change things, to fix things, to undo the undoable somehow. You’re sad. You’re hurt. And you’re angry. But of course, there isn’t anything you can do.

To anyone who ever has a friend that they are worried about, I say – don’t hesitate. Don’t worry about hurting their feelings. Don’t think they won’t follow through. If you think your friend needs help, get it for them. Better safe than sorry.

And to anyone who has ever considered suicide, I say this: Don’t. Just please, get help. Don’t think that the people you leave behind will be better off without you. What they’ll be is sad, and angry and bewildered and left trying to fill the gaping hole where you should be. I’ve been horribly depressed. There was a time in my life when I thought, well, someday I might decide I’m tired of living like this. But instead I got help, and my life got better. I wish I had talked to Leo about that more, about how life is so completely different when you come of out of a depression, it’s like you’re a different person. I don’t know if it would have made a difference or not. When you’re in that hole, it is awful hard to see out.

So instead all I can say to Leo now is, I wish you were here. I miss you. We all do. It is devastatingly sad that you never got to meet your son Malcolm, to see how wonderful he is. And equally as sad that he will only ever know you through our stories. You should see what an amazing mom Jules is, and the life she’s built for herself and Malcolm. I’m sorry that life got so hard you couldn’t go on, and that we couldn’t help you. That you didn’t know that we all would have done whatever it took to help you. I hope with all my being that your next life is one of much joy and peace, and no pain.

Look! A post that is not about my new house or my fertility. Dedicated to my dear husband John, who is even now ferrying his extremely British cousin Gerard back to his hotel in Georgetown as I lounge around on the couch in my pajamas. I would be busily reading other people’s blogs or checking email, except that for some reason about half of the Internet appears to be down.

So instead, the post that John has been bugging me to write about our new favorite show, Deadwood. Have you seen it? I’m sure it is not to everyone’s taste. First of all, it is a western. That threw me off for a little while and I thought I wouldn’t enjoy it. I was wrong! Second, it is violent. Seriously violent. And dirty. Not sexy dirty – literally dirty. I find myself wishing that the characters would just grab a washcloth from time to time, thinking for the love of God, just wipe the dirt off your face! And the swearing! Wow, is there a lot of swearing in this show. I had no idea there were so many ways to use the words “fucker,” “c*cksucker” and “c#nt” in dialogue. Swearing aside, the show is very well written. I’m always surprised when we get to the end of an episode because I get that caught up in the story.

And the characters are actually multi-dimensional, which is a nice change for TV. One of the main characters is the saloon owner who runs the town – Al Swearengen. When you first see him, you think, ok, obvious bad guy. He’s got a million scams going. He orders people killed. He beats up one of his whores because she shoots a customer who was hurting her. But then bit by bit, they reveal more about him. He saved a crippled woman from a terrible fate and hired her to cook and clean in the saloon. He shows mercy and compassion for the minister who has seizures. He is actually looking out for the town of Deadwood even as he looks out for himself.

The main good guy, Bullock, has layers too (like an onion). Yes, he’s all noble and sheriff-y, but he also cheats on his wife, and takes other actions he later regrets. He’s got the greatest clench and stare-down since Clint Eastwood. But even the lesser characters are really well-drawn. Swearengen’s main henchman, Dan (a Ronnie Van Zandt lookalike) had some great lines. And the weasely hotel owner/mayor of Deadwood (who was in Blade Runner and had two brothers named Darryl on Newhart) is just appalling in his underhandedness and scheming, but you also feel sorry for him sometimes. The actress playing Calamity Jane is awesome. So are the actors who portray the town doctor, the prospector Ellsworth, Bullock’s business partner Sol and Trixie the whore who wants to become a bookkeeper.

I’ve already said way more than I meant to about this show. See, that’s how good it is. I was also going to talk about my growing addiction to Television Without Pity and how I’m still pissed off about them killing Boone off on Lost. But I’ve already gone on for long enough.

Edited to add: This was written Tuesday night, before I realized that blogger was one of the many, many sites I could not access.

The lovely Coleen over at Hussified is participating in the Breast Cancer 3-Day. She’ll be walking 60 miles in three days to raise money for breast cancer research, education, screening and treatment. 60 miles in three days! It’s a lot of work, and she has to raise a lot of money ($2,500!), so she turned to the internet for a little fundraising help. So please, if you’ve got any cash to spare and are looking for a great cause to support, consider donating some money to Coleen and the Philadelphia Breast Cancer 3-Day.

To get the full story on why Coleen is participating, click here.

I accidentally started a fight with a comment on someone else’s blog today. I feel awful about it. It’s like the person whose blog it is invited me to a party and I got drunk and insulted her friends. And I inadvertently hurt someone’s feelings, which I never want to do. Do you know what the worst part is? I was talking about art.

Specifically the Christos the Gates installation in Central Park. Which I haven’t even seen in person, but which I think look quite nice in photos and on TV. And I like the meditative feel of the orange fabric and the way it contrasts with the park and moves in the wind, the notion of art that is open to all people, and the fact that Christos felt so strongly about the Gates that he raised the money to do it himself.

The question of whether or not that money was well spent was raised. I firmly believe that it was, for as I said in my comment, people have needs that go beyond food and shelter. At the same time, I’ve wrestled with the feeling that we should make sure all people have enough food to eat, roofs over their heads, access to medical care etc… before we go spending money on missions to mars and so on. I don’t know where exactly to draw that line. But I do applaud people who use their money to enrich the lives of others instead of just acquiring more possessions.

So, Laila, if you’re reading – I think I managed to outgeek you twice today. I mean, really, who starts a brawl about art?

• First of all the weather. I mean, holy crap, global warming is real and we are all screwed, because the weather, she is fucked up all over the world. And at the same time, holy crap, I love this weather! Do you know what I wore to walk Seamus tonight? A long sleeved shirt and a little sweatshirt. And I could have gotten away with less. It is so nice and warm out.

• Second, is it odd that I find it slightly offensive that someone I thought was my friend reads and comments on a blog I introduced her to, but never comments on mine? I realize I’m not as good as certain other bloggers, but damn, I don’t suck that much.

• Third, does anyone else find Karl Rove as scary as I do? I already hold him responsible for many of the Bush administration policies I find most repugnant, so it isn’t terribly reassuring to see him getting more power.

So BMH picked me to do this meme, which actually comes as relief, cuz I've got nothing else to talk about. I have had a week that was both very busy and extremely boring. I don’t think even the most talented writer in the world could have made my week interesting or amusing. It hasn’t been particularly good or bad. Just a long slog with lots o’ crap to get done. So without further ado, the music meme:

1. Song that sounds like happy feels: My Blue Heaven

2. Earliest memory: Singing Burl Ives and Peter Paul and Mary songs with my mom. I was also a big fan of singing with the Count on Sesame Street, which is ironic given my hatred of math.

3. Last CD you bought: Concrete Blonde Live in Brazil, which was a disappointment.

4. Reminds you of school:
Elementary School: This one is sad, but one of the teachers died when I was in 4th grade, and they sent us home early. I remember hearing Kenny Rogers’ the Gambler on the bus on the way home. I also remember hearing Kiss and Pink Floyd.

Junior High: Duran Duran and Prince (Purple Rain)

High School: The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Depeche Mode, the Clash, the Jam, Madness, the Police, 10,000 Maniacs, and REM. This list could go on for hours, so I’ll stop now.

College: Nirvana, Jane’s Addiction, Nine Inch Nails, Red Hot Chili Peppers, various local Boston bands, Melissa Ethridge, Patsy Cline, Aretha Franklin, BB King and Led Zeppelin.

5. Total music files on your PC: That are mine? Not even one. I have no idea how to download a song. My husband, on the other hand, has about 15 bazillion.

6. Song for listening to repeatedly when depressed: Bonnie Raitt -- I Can’t Make You Love Me. Also, Kasey Chambers -- Water in the Fuel. And in my dramatic teenage years, Blasephemous Rumors by Depeche Mode.

7. Song that sounds British, but isn't: Lunatic Fringe, Red Rider
8. Song you love, band you hate: I don’t really hate them, but I’m not a huge fan – Ripple by the Grateful Dead.

9. A favorite song from the past that took ages to track down: Man on the Corner, by Genesis from the album Abacab. I insisted I remembered this song from the 80’s. My friends said I was making it up. One day, one of them heard it on the radio, and I was vindicated!

10. Bought the album for one good song: I’m sure there’s more than one, but I can’t come up with a single example.

11. Worst Song to Get Stuck in your Head: Oh, there are so many. I’m going to go with Lovin’ You by Minnie Ripperton.

12. Best song to dump a beer on someone's head to, then storm out of the bar? All I can come up with for this one is Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Gimme Three Steps. Which is about running out of a bar, but not storming. Or maybe Chain of Fools.

13. Who should do this next? I'm going to say Claire, and Mylissa. I haven't seen either of them do a meme in a while.

Or, how all my neighbors got the idea I was a raging alcoholic.

For some reason this story has popped into my head a couple of times this week, so I decided to write about it.

Back when I first graduated from college, I lived with a bunch of my friends in a three family house in Somerville, MA. We had a nice apartment on the ground floor, with a huge kitchen, a little porch in the back and a decent sized yard, perfect for barbecuing. It was a nice place to live, but we did not fit in to the neighborhood. Most of our neighbors were working class families or older people who had lived there for years. And who had lots of Virgin Marys and Jesus statues in their yards. Naturally, our dog Wesley liked to growl at the statues, only adding to our bad rep as those “wild” young girls with the devil dogs. It was kind of a narrow minded neighborhood, and we stood out like sore thumbs, with our assortment of multi-ethnic, punk rock, crazy hippie and the occasional (obviously) lesbian friends. And oh, how we were hated.

My roommates and I all had crappy, just-out-of-school jobs. I worked retail, toiling away in a mall bookstore. Sometimes I had to open the store, but mostly, I worked the evening shift, which was 1:30 to 10. Which generally meant that my roommates just waited for me to get home before starting the party. Endearing us to the neighbors even more, I’m sure. But hey, we were fresh out of college! Staying up late, eating junk food, smoking a lot and drinking were what we knew. And we weren’t really all that excessive. We were party girls by Wellesley standards, but that ain’t saying much. So we’d stay up until 2 or so, and then toddle off to bed one by one.

One of the benefits living where we did was that we could walk down to Ball Square to buy stuff and do things. And most mornings, I would get up around 10 or 11 and walk with one or both of the dogs down to the liquor store on the corner, where I would buy a pack of cigarettes, a two liter of Coke, and usually a bag of chips or some sort of liquor-store snack. Healthy eating was really high on my agenda. Then I would walk home, with my paper bag from the liquor store, get my first hit of caffeine and nicotine for the day, and get ready to go to work. Anyway, one day I saw the curtains a-twitching as I went down the sidewalk, and realized that there was a collection of disapproving biddies who watched me trek down to the corner and back every morning. They all thought I was picking up a fifth of bourbon or something every day! I was a neighborhood scandal.

If only they knew how boring the truth really was.

There are a lot of people in Asia whose lives have been destroyed. Help them, if you can.

The American Red Cross, OxFam America, UN World Food Programme and UNICEF

And thanks to Chris, for doing this on his site first. I wish I'd thought of it.

For Claire, who wants to know.

Three names you go by: Bad Penguin, Hillary, Hills

Three screen names you have: badpenguin01, hilldery, and well, my actual name.

Three things you like about yourself: I’m a good listener, a dependable friend, and I have nice hair

Three things you hate/dislike about yourself: I’ve let myself get out of shape, I doubt myself too much, I’m too impatient

Three parts of your heritage: Irish, more Irish, German

Three things that scare you: Infertility, family members dying, what the Bush administration is doing to my country and the world

Three of your everyday essentials: the happy dance my dog does when I come home, John’s sleepy smile, a nice cup of (decaf) tea before bed

Three things you are wearing right now: brown pants, blue sweater, lovely brown shoes with buckle

Three of your favorite bands/artists (at the moment): Only three, that’s tough. Kasey Chambers, U2, the Rolling Stones

Three of your favorite songs at present: Water in the Fuel (Kasey Chambers); Lake of Fire (Nirvana cover version); Chain of Fools (Aretha Franklin)

Three things you want in a relationship (love is a given): Laughter, friendship, warmth

Three things you want to try in the next 12 months: to learn more about Buddhism, to improve my writing, to not get any more stupid cavities in my teeth

Two truths and a lie: I used to be a Park Ranger. I actually did vote for a Republican once (on purpose). I have never left the United States.

Three physical things about the opposite (or same) sex that appeals to you: Eyes. Then smile. Then chest and arms.

Three things you just can't do: be coordinated, calculus, be cheerful early in the morning

Three of your favorite hobbies: blogging, reading, knitting

Three things you want to do really badly right now: buy a house, have a baby, see my husband happier in the life we have now. Or is that supposed to be more immediate? Then it is: eat nachos, work on the design for my new blog, and never have to think about direct order entry (annoying work project) again!

Three careers you're considering: I kind of like the one I have. Or free-lance writer or something that helps other people, like UN relief worker or working for a non-profit

Three places you want to go on vacation: Ireland, South Pacific, Greece

Three kids' names: Liam, Kate, Kira

Three things you want to do before you die: Skydive, see more of the world, contribute something to making the world a better place

So, I'm thinking about moving to my own url. Naturally www.badpenguin.com is taken. No one appears to be using it, but it is not available for me to reserve. So, I've come up with some potential alternatives, and I'd like your opinions. What address do you like best?

www.bad-penguin.com
www.badpenguin1.com
www.badpenguinblog.com

And, of course, suggestions of urls not on my list are welcome.

I’ve been thinking about envy. Not envy in the seven deadly sin sense, but envy as a motivator. When you see that someone else has done something that you think you could do. Or should be able to do. Something that makes you say to yourself “I want…” and gives you a kick in the ass to get moving, to make changes, to go for what you want. Sometimes it is easy to see how to get where I want to go.

Other times, it’s harder to figure out. I want to be a better writer. I want this blog to be better than it is. I’m very good at the writing I do for work. I’m not bragging, just stating a fact. I’ve convinced a lot of people to part with a lot of money for the services my company provides. But that doesn’t mean I’m good at the type of writing that I think is important. I want to write at a higher level, but I don’t think I’ve found my voice yet. It frustrates me sometimes.

And then I remind myself that I had to work to get to level of writing I’m at professionally. It didn’t just happen overnight. I want to write the kinds of posts that move people – to laughter, anger, sadness – something. Not just ramble on about my trips to the dentist. Or at least be entertaining when I do ramble on about my trips to the dentist. I want to write essays, or maybe short stories. I even have ideas for magazine articles, not that I know what to do with them. But I’m not quite there. I’m going to keep plugging away at it, of course. It’s just that sometimes…I want.

I just discovered a kitchen right by my new office that I never even knew existed. After due consideration, I have decided to switch my allegiance to the new kitchen.

Ah, the serious and important decisions that make up my day.

I'm tired. Too tired to be clever really. So instead, I've got a random collection of ideas for your enjoyment.

• It's really bothering me that I can't remember the name of this kid I was friends with in college. He was really sweet, and had dreadlocks and worked in the library at MassArt. He would let me check books out for my art history papers when I waited until the last minute and all of the books I needed had been checked out of the Wellesley art library. And I always waited until the last minute. I was thinking his name was Bobby, but then I remembered that was a different guy. Also nice and also with dreadlocks, but he wasn't an art student. He was in a band called Seven League Boots, and was originally from DC like me. In DC he was in a band called Soulside. Or maybe it was Kingface. He was in one and his brother, whose name I have also forgotten, was in the other. Anyway, not-Bobby's nickname was something like Drake. But that's not quite it.

• Other nicknames that I can remember from that era are: Goose, Annubay, Moon, Topher, Ram, Teeth and Buzz. If you'd like to play match the nickname, their real names were Alan, Sebastian, Lucy, Keith, Ann, Ramadan and Christopher. I also had many friends with normal names, if you're wondering.

• Finding Neverland is a really good movie. I highly recommend it. Johnny Depp is amazing as J. M. Barrie, and the kid who plays Peter is wonderful. I must warn you though, I sobbed and sobbed at the end of this movie. 'Course, I am a well-known cry-baby.

• I think people should give Van Morrison more credit as a musician. You don't hear that much about him, but he has many fine songs. Including Tupelo Honey, which I particularly enjoy.

• Also underrated? The Rolling Stones song Moonlight Mile.

And with that, I think it is time for bed.

P.S. the nickname match up answers: Goose/Lucy, Annubay/Ann, Moon/Sebastian, Topher/Christopher (that one is actually a guess), Ram/Ramadan, Teeth/Keith and Buzz/Alan.

Tonight I went to Best Buy to buy a new keyboard. Unfortunately for me, Best Buy decided that the only keyboards they were going to have in stock were the wireless ones that cost something like $62 to $79. I was not interested in paying that much for a keyboard, so Best Buy and I had a little parting of the ways.

There is an Office Depot in the same complex. I walked over there and quickly found a decent keyboard (don’t it type nice?) that wasn’t insanely expensive. And then realized I was feeling virtuous for walking the two minutes across the parking lot instead of driving, and I just had to laugh. Only a totally spoiled suburban brat like me would congratulate themselves for not driving across a parking lot.

I know, for something I'm not supposed to talk about, I sure am talking about it, aren't I? But no identifiable details, so I'm within the law.

I just want to share one thing.

So, I'm sitting there in my juror #11 chair, and one of the lawyers is talking. He makes a statement "So and so has done something or other and that's an excellent whatever," pause, "for me to blah blah blah..." And what pops into my head at this very serious moment? Triumph the Insult Comic Dog saying "for me to poop on!" I literally had to sit there biting my lip and lecturing myself-- " Do NOT laugh. Now is NOT the time to laugh. Just focus on what the man is saying." And of course, that's when the lawyer stops to look something up in his notes, so I had to sit there, picturing myself laughing and the judge asking if I want to share anything with the rest of them, and then getting hauled off to jail for being in contempt or something.

Luckily, I got myself under control. So I won't have to blog from the big house due to my wildly inappropriate sense of humor.

Lord, they are lovey-dovey.

I'm talking about the credit card companies here. Six weeks ago, I was firmly in the "You've got a bunch of debt, so we're going to charge you an insane amount of interest" category. And then I paid them all off. Every last cent of the money we owed those bloodsucking, soul crushing bastard credit card companies. And now they all looove me. Everyone wants to give me a card. 9%...6%...4% interest! 0% for six months! And so on. BankOne, who insisted they had to charge me 28% interest even though I had never missed a payment -- not one! -- in all the years I had a card with them, is begging me not to take my business away.

But I will not be swayed. That is one lesson that I do not need to learn a second time, thank you very much. If we want something, we can damn well wait and save up money for it. So take that evil Visa and MasterCard!

I've decided a summary of my day would be boring and predictable. Instead, here is a sampling of the thoughts I had today, in somewhat chronological order:

Bed is so warm and comfortable. Want to sleep. No. Sleep. Ok, little dog! We'll go for a walk.

I hate all my clothes. I wish I could wear jeans to work. Why can't I wear jeans to work?

Green means go, you idiots.

I'm really not in the mood for work today.

Well, now that I'm actually working it's not so bad.

You know, I really like my new employee.

Leftover Indian food makes for an awesome lunch. Oh look. Britney Spears got married again. Hmm.

My mom is IM'ing me. Wow, she's a ray of sunshine today. I wonder if anyone else has ever managed to mention three separate people who died in one five minute IM conversation.

It's 6:30 already? Wow, my day really picked up. Time to hit the road!

"Kerry/Edwards. Because 'Yee-ha' is not a foreign policy" That's a pretty funny bumper sticker.

Everyone who works at Whole Foods is so friendly. Wait, is the the cheese guy flirting with me? Ooh, smoked mozzarella.

Light bulbs. Light bulbs. Where did they move the light bulbs to?

I know there's no item limit on the self checkout lanes, but it is rude to use them if you're buying 100 things. Just go to a cashier. You're not saving anyone any time.

Green means go, you idiots.

Ah, home. Hello Seamus! Hello John!

Ouch! Stabbing yourself in the thumb with a really sharp knife hurts. That's what I get for mis-using one of my beloved knives. They are for chopping, not scraping.

Dinner. Yummy.

I really like Etta James. Sunday Kinda Love is a good song.

Time to wrap up this entry. I'm sleepy. Good night.

So, I finally get five minutes to sit and write in my blog, and I'm so tired I can't think of anything interesting to say. This week feels like it has been 18 days long. I had very long meetings on Monday and Wednesday that took up most of my day. That meant that I had to work extra late on Tuesday and Wednesday and again tonight. I've been getting home so late that I haven't even gotten to cook with my fancy new saucepan yet.

I've spent so much time at work that I haven't really done anything else. Let's see...I gave Seamus a bath on Monday after I found some fleas on him. He hates getting a bath, but I will not tolerate fleas. Not even a little bit. He seems flea free now.

Oh, I'm getting a new office. A nice big one too. They love to move people around in my company, and I lucked out in the new office lottery this time.

And right now, John and I are watching Smokey and the Bandit on AMC. I guess it is a new movie classic or something. Smokey just called the Bandit a "sumbitch." I don't think I've ever called anyone a sumbitch. Or even a son of a bitch, for that matter. I'll be looking for a way to work that into a post soon, I think.

Ok, time for bed. I'm really starting to ramble.

Because apparently I was lying.

Let's see. What have I been up to lately? I seriously can't even remember Friday. How sad is that? Oh yeah, I went to work and had two team meetings and a 9/11 memorial assembly, three things which combined to take up most of my day. And then we had spaghetti for dinner.

Saturday was pretty good. I slept in, which was nice. My mom had given me a gift certificate for this kitchen store that has since announced it is going out of business, so I had to go use it. I got a $115 Calphalon saucepan for $52! And with the gift certificate, I only paid $27. I had to wait in the longest line ever to pay for it, which sucked, but I did get a bargain. And it is a really good pan. I met up with my mom and went to Starbucks. She had coffee and I had lemonade. And then I bought a yoga mat. It's green and came with a mesh carrying bag and a free yoga video.

On Sunday I went to Circuit City hoping to take advantage of their buy one 50-pack of Audiobahn CDs and give one free deal, but they didn't have any in stock. None of the stores in this area did. Circuit City is lame. You know which store is not lame? Target. I went to Target after Circuit City and was able to find and purchase everything I wanted for very little money.

In the evening I went to my first yoga class ever. My friend Laila and I signed up to take it together. I really liked it, and I think Laila did too. The one drawback is that Laila and I are by far the youngest people in the class. By far. But, as I told Laila, while we're learning the basics, I actually feel better in there with the aged and infirm. And we both liked the instructor, who is about our age, and, coincidentally, also named Laila. So, we're going to stick with this class for this session. I'm looking forward to it.

• I spent a very satisfying day at work cleaning my office and getting organized. It took most of the day, which meant that I didn't get all of my work done, but it was worth it. You can see my desk again. Plus, I got all of my files and binders up to date, so I can now hand them over to my new employee and she can take over keeping them up to date. That will work much better than my current system of lots and lots of piles, occasionally sorted and held together with binder clips, but never actually doing any filing.

• This morning I discovered that one of my favorite authors has a blog. He's as creative and interesting on the blog as he is in his books. If you want to check it out, visit http://www.neilgaiman.com/journal/journal.asp

• Coincidently, I came home and John is reading a Neil Gaiman graphic novel.

• If you're not reading Bluepoppy, you should be. She's writing and posting this serial novel called Don't Think Twice that's got me totally hooked. It even made me miss the Boston area a little. I wish I could write like that! Instead, my talents seem to lie in the marketing genre.

• I passed a car today that had both a Kerry/Edwards sticker and a Bush/Cheney sticker. I suppose I should be more tolerant, but if someone I shared a car with wanted to put a Bush/Cheney sticker on the car, I wouldn't let them. Of course, the only person I share my car with is my husband, and he'd have to be kidnapped by aliens and replaced with a pod before he'd ever suggest such a thing. And even then, I'd guess that John's hatred of Bush is so strong that it would spill over to his pod-self and prevent that from happening.

have to admit, I’m a food snob. I’m picky. I’m a vegetarian. And I’m a pain in the ass about food.

I try not to be, but deep down, I know that I am. I will not eat mayonnaise, American cheese or canned vegetables. I will actually make a special trip to get the bread I like from one store and the yogurt I like at another one. I obsessively read ingredients. My produce is organic, my dairy products hormone and antibiotic free. I avoid overly processed foods like the plague. When one of my co-workers told me she made macaroni and cheese for her kids by making the macaroni and then mixing in Cheez-Whiz, I was horrified. Another co-worker told me she had never bought Brie and I thought she was kidding. I buy Brie all the time. Brie and Camembert and Knolblauch (aka fancy German Brie) and overpriced bread to go with it.

But I have a few secret vices that I’m going to reveal:

1. Pillsbury Slice & Bake Peanut Butter cookie dough. I love this stuff. I’m a pretty good baker. I have made every peanut butter cookie recipe I have ever come across. Not one of them has even come close to replicating the preservative and trans-fat filled glory of the Pillsbury refrigerated cookie dough.

2. Tostitos brand Queso. I have tried to make my own queso. I have bought the organic brand (It was awful.) Nothing compares to the glows-in-the-dark orange, incredibly bad for you queso from the good folks at Tostitos.

3. Pepperidge Farm frozen garlic bread. I make really good garlic bread, with olive oil infused with garlic and herbs. It is healthy and tasty and full of pure, natural ingredients. Guess what I’d rather be eating?

4. Entenmann's Donuts. Pretty much all of them. I usually prefer baked goods that don’t have partially hydrgonenated ingredients or high fructose corn syrup. But sometimes I just have to have an Entenmann’s crumb topped donut. (And yes, I love Krispy Kreme too. They seem fresher somehow, and so aren’t making the list.)

5. And, of course, soda. My old enemy Coca Cola. I like ginger ale too. But Coca Cola is the dark master to which I always return. It consists of two ingredients I always try to avoid – high fructose corn syrup and caffeine. I know it is one of the worst things I can consume. And yet I can't stay away.

I’ve been neglecting my blog lately. The move to this new URL has coincided with a particularly busy couple of weeks in my life. Plus, having to switch to a no blogging from work policy has messed up my rhythm to a certain extent. But mostly, I’ve just been busy.

On the work front, I had one employee go out on maternity leave, and a new one start, which has kept work interesting.

And then there’s the personal stuff. My friend Jules and her little boy Malcolm were in town. I wanted to spend as much time as possible with Jules and Malcolm while they were here. I miss Jules a lot now that she’s far away in New Hampshire. And it is so important to me to be a part of my friends’ children’s lives. I went to a barbecue with Jules and Laila and their kids on Saturday. At one point Laila went to get something in the house, and her little boy Noah turned to me when he was feeling a little overwhelmed by all the strangers. It felt so great! I was thrilled that he’s starting to connect to me as an auntie.

On Sunday I hung out with my mom, and then had dinner with my friend and former co-worker Becky. I finally got to see her condo, which is really nice. Well decorated too. And I played with her very cute puppy, Murphy. Then we went and had yummy Pan-Asian food. While we were at dinner we saw two people from work. I almost never see people from work. One was out with her family and one appeared to be on a date. She didn’t want to have anything to do with us.

Monday was supposed to be the day that I ran all the errands that I didn’t get to last week. Instead, I chose to be slug girl and laze around the house reading all day. It was awesome. Definitely the best choice I could have made.

And starting tomorrow, no more blog neglect.

Ok, I've just spent the last hour installing new comments and creating my new blog roll. I think the new comments are working now. Yay! Because the blogger comments suck. Note to Haloscan: thanks for the free code. But your installation Wizard? Does not work.

I've added some new blogs to my blog roll. Good ones too. Check them out!

Unfortunately, now I'm too tired to come up with anything intelligent or funny to say. It's bedtime for me.

I will leave you with this one parting thought. Is Zell Miller nuts or what? The Daily Show just showed a clip of him saying he wished he could challenge Chris Matthews to a duel. I find that both hysterical and a little disturbing.

Whew!

A whole week without blogging. It was hard to go that long, but I was busy. Really, really busy. I kept trying to get time to get my new blog set up. A gratifying number of people emailed asking me to let them know where I had gone, but I had all this damn work to do. And then I went out of town. But now I'm back, and it's time to blog!

So...the new title. My spies believe they have unconvered the identity of the person who turned me in to HR, and they warned me that the suspected BlogNarc can be quite vindictive. I don't plan on blogging from work, or blogging much about work, but still, I want to avoid giving BlogNarc any more ammunition against me. This meant I had to come up with a title that is completely random, and not linked to me in any way.

When I first started my old blog, my husband joked that I should somehow work penguins into the title. I didn't do it then, but since I'm starting over, I decided to go with that. Bad Penguin struck me as funny for some reason.

I know. I have a weird sense of humor. But there you have it.

I have to set up my new blogroll and add the Haloscan comments again. I'll probably get to that tomorrow night. But yay! At least I have a blog again.

here are 100 facts you may or may not know about me.

1. My name is Hillary.
2. I’m a Pisces.
3. I’m in my early thirties.
4. My hair is curly, and blondish.
5. I am 5ft 1 ½ inches tall.
6. That ½ inch is very important.
7. My husband’s name is John.
8. We’ve been together for almost ten years, married for almost three.
9. My dog’s name is Seamus.
10. He’s a beagle. And he’s adorable.
11. We got him from the pound.
12. I’m extremely liberal. Socialist even.
13. My husband is even more liberal than I am.
14. I’m a vegetarian.
15. A vegetarian who does not eat fish.
16. So, no, I can’t “just have the tuna sandwich”
17. I have a degree in art history and political science from Wellesley College.
18. I love art and I can go on about politics for hours.
19. So naturally, I’m a marketing director for a company that publishes investment newsletters.
20. I write copy and work on our e-business development. Among other things.
21. Bad Penguin is not my first blog.
22. I had one called Hilldery that I closed after I got outed at work.
23. Because the outing was followed by a call from the VP of Human Resources.
24. I live just outside of Washington DC.
25. 10 minutes from the house where I grew up.
26. I love being at the center of all that is familiar.
27. My husband would rather live in Canada or Ireland or travel the world in a camper, having adventures.
28. Someday we probably will try living somewhere else.
29. But right now we’re trying to buy a house here.
30. And have a baby.
31. I really want a baby.
32. And I wouldn’t mind another dog.
33. I have a brother named Tim.
34. He’s 12 years younger than I am.
35. He’s far away in Asheville, going to college.
36. When I was in college, I spent two summers working as a park ranger.
37. At the White House (aka Presidents’ Park) and the JFK Birthplace (a National Historic Site)
38. It was some of the most rewarding and worthwhile work I’ve ever done.
39. My parents are divorced.
40. They hate each other, and are much happier now.
41. Sometimes they are very juvenile toward each other, which makes me nuts.
42. My father is a little crazy. Sometimes he combines the crazy with religion.
43. This has made me very uncomfortable with most organized religions.
44. Except Buddhism. Well, and Quakers and Unitarians.
45. A Unitarian married John and me. He helped us write our own ceremony.
46. I read a lot.
47. I’m willing to give almost any kind subject matter a try, but it does have to be well written.
48. I probably read science fiction and mysteries the most.
49. But I like non-fiction too.
50. I’ve recently taken up knitting
51. I like it, but I can’t do anything very complicated yet.
52. I also love to cook. I’m pretty good at it.
53. Becoming a vegetarian has really expanded my culinary horizons.
54. I am a fabulous baker.
55. I entered the Pillsbury Bake-Off once, but they didn’t choose my recipe. Even though it is amazing.
56. Those Pillsbury people can be short-sighted bastards.
57. I used to speak French fluently, but since I don’t have anyone to speak it with, I’ve forgotten a lot.
58. I have been to France twice.
59. The first time I went to Paris and Tours.
60. The second time to Paris and Perpignan.
61. Both trips were awesome.
62. I am not a very good sleeper. It takes me a long time to fall asleep. And everything wakes me up.
63. My mom can fall asleep in two minutes. And everyone else in my family sleeps like they are in a coma. It’s very annoying to me.
64. Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 64?
65. Music is very important to me.
66. I’ll listen to just about any genre.
67. But my favorites tend to be in punk rock, alternative, the blues and rock n’ roll.
68. I started taking yoga classes about six months ago.
69. I took to it like a duck to water.
70. But it is harder than it looks.
71. I studied ballet for years, so luckily I was already pretty flexible.
72. When I was 16, I played Glinda the Good Witch of the North in the ballet version of the Wizard of Oz. I was also one of the daughters of the rainbow.
73. Ok, the first 69 weren’t that hard, but I’m running out of inspiration.
74. Purple Monkey Dishwasher.
75. There, a quote from the Simpsons. I can pretty much always find a way to tie the Simpsons in to what is going on.
76. If I were a character on the Simpsons, I would probably be Lisa.
77. Yep, I was kind of a geek.
78. Well, in middle school I was a geek.
79. By high school I was a tough punk rocker, but I still had geeky tendencies. And a goody goody reputation.
80. I had great friends in high school.
81. Particularly my friend Laila, who is still one of my nearest and dearest.
82. My college crew – aka my bitches – are like family.
83. That would be Jules, Julie, Ariane and Carri.
84. I wish we weren’t scattered all over the east coast.
85. Jules and I once played checkers with shots of tequila. That was a bad idea.
86. When she went into labor with her son Malcolm, John and I drove all night to be with her.
87. I was going to write something about each of them, but then I remembered this is supposed to be 100 things about me.
88. My favorite Sesame Street character was Snufflelupagus. I probably spelled that wrong. I should’ve gone with the Count, but that would be a lie. I liked him, but he wasn’t my favorite.
89. I do, however, have a bizarre fascination with vampire stories and movies.
90. The same goes for Jack the Ripper stories and movies.
91. Speaking of Jack the Ripper movies, I’m a fan of Johnny Depp. (From Hell)
92. Ok, now I’m just getting tired and loopy.
93. My parents were very restrictive when I was growing up.
94. They once made me turn off an episode of Silver Spoons because they felt it was getting too racy.
95. I’m not kidding.
96. So as I got older, I lied to them a lot.
97. It was the only way I ever got to leave the house.
98. But now I’m a very honest person.
99. I’m also a very clumsy person.
100. A very clumsy, short, curly haired liberal person who has finally made it to 100!