The Second Ten

9. My IQ - Ani DiFranco
10. The District Sleeps Alone Tonight - The Postal Service
11. My Coco - Stellastar
12. Stupid - Sarah McLachlan
13. Breathe - Melissa Etheridge
14. Hole in My Pocket - Sheryl Crow
15. You Can't Always Get What You Want - Rusted Root
16. Mrs. Robinson - Simon & Garfunkel (ha ha ha)
17. Ciega, Sordomuda - Shakira
18. Tangled Up in Blue - Indigo Girls

Eh? Eh?! Too fun, and toooooo apt.

The First Eight

1. Blister in the Sun - Violent Femmes
2. Life is Short - Butterfly Boucher
3. He Thinks He'll Keep Her - Mary Chapin Carpenter
4. Out of Range - Ani DiFranco
5. Don't Wanna Think About You - Simple Plan
6. Devils and Angels - Toby Lightman
7. Personal Jesus - Johnny Cash
8. Tweeter and the Monkey Man - Traveling Wilburys

All My Goals Fulfilled

The ultimate depth has finally been reached. Someone hit this site with the Google search terms "bacon eroticism".

[insert maniacal laughter here]

Give and Take

    Wretched weekend. How could it be anything else, when the majority of it was spent hunched over my desk like a drone, capitulating to the insanity of removing completely necessary punctuation from my genius product alternately with adding completely unnecessary punctuation to it? All the while desperately needing a haircut, so every two minutes I either blew my bangs out of my eyes or shoved them back distractedly. I drank more tea (i.e. injested more caffeine) than any human needs.
    That being said, there were several bright spots--the ones that actually make up for wretched weekends. The things that will make even the most cynical person think that it doesn't all have to suck all of the time.
* Email messages with friends. Yes, I've whined lately about certain people (Robert? Hello?) who don't respond to their email in a timely fashion. But who am I to complain, really, when I'm not all that good about it most of the time? However, I've had a couple of particularly pleasant, satisfying, comfortable, happy exchanges with a couple of particularly good friends over the last few days. Public acknowledgement is in order but it wouldn't be appropriate, so I'll be sneaky instead--"tweaker of roundies," thank you. And "cutie even at that age," thanks. You knew what I needed and you did it, and there's no greater measure of friendship.
* Good books. There are only a couple of people who might possibly read this who might possibly care, but I'm reading the best book right now. I'll review it soon, but not on this page. (That should tell you something of what it's about.)
* Old friends, and lunch therewith. Sometimes you'll connect with someone and then circumstances will arise that cause that connection to strain, and it can even seem like it's broken. But, as happened to me yesterday, sometimes you realize that it's just been stretched a little but if anything it's even tighter than before. Because you reveal more about yourself each time you're together. About what's really important, and what's at stake. I have only one more thing to say on that subject: Buy the damned camera! Life is too short to wait for the perfect camera at the perfect price!
* The right box at the right time. I was sitting at the computer, poring over the Bibliography line by line (and in some cases letter by letter). I had Turabian's A manual for writers of term papers, theses, and dissertations and The Chicago Manual of Style propped open in front of me. Numerous scraps of paper with barely-understandable notes scrawled on them, such as this:
search by ):_ and replace with ),_ if BOOK cite!
search by ),_ and replace with ):_ if JOURNAL cite, idiot!    Better Than Ezra Deluxe on repeat on the CD player, although it was too mellow to really do it for me. Tea, iced, in my Brother's beer mug (free from a bar in my hometown, filled with beer on your birthday. I got mine when I was 24? Maybe?). I was working hard, cranky, about 2 hours beyond the point at which I'd had quite enough, when I heard the unmistakable sound of the mail being delivered. The mailbox is attached to the railing on the front steps but the carriers always make it sound like they're punching a hole in the wall when they fill the box so it startles me and sends the cats into a frenzy. Once we calmed down I was a little disappointed because someone's been writing about sending a box...for a while...and I could see no box on the railing. Sigh. So I went back to work. Grrr.
    Finally went out to get the mail after I'd finished another page of scouring the bleeping source list for errors, when my eyes were about to bleed from reading so closely. Bliss! A box, on the welcome mat, in familiar script! I picked it up and it made a strange jangling noise--a note, hand-written in ink on the address label: "Rattle OK." Hmmm.
    I took it in the house (screw the rest of the mail! Goodies for me!!), grabbed a knife, and wrenched it open. Woohoo!!! Shotglasses for my collection, from Montréal and [NY]. More CDs than I could listen to in a week, which is ok since some of them aren't for me. The top one definitely was, though--"Amy Mix 6/2004." Warm and fuzzy from 831 miles away.
    Beaded necklaces, which I immediately put on, rendering my look somewhat 8-year-old-ish but imminently happier than I'd been 2 minutes before. A letter. A card. Subtext.
    I listened to the Amy Mix while I was doing the last look-through on the thesis, checking to make sure that I'd made all of the required corrections or explained why I didn't. Damn! The first time through, I felt more than a little, er, disconnected. I had no clue what more than half of the songs were or who was singing them. But the second time through I was past that, listening more closely to the lyrics and--damn. You knew. I love it, and I have the feeling that this is going to end up being rather a disc of anthems before everything's said and done. (How prophetic is that?!)
* I'm distracted now from whatever else I was going to write because I'm thinking about how unbelievably good I felt when I saw and opened that box. It lasted through this morning when I dressed in my I Want to Move to the Caribbean style. White linen shirt, loose linen shorts (tan), suede sandals, To Dive For Pink nails (OPI), new pearl and green beaded necklace, silver on black cord anklet. I'll Do It When I Get To It attitude. Closer on the CD player for now, but the Amy Mix coming soon.

I'll take the wretched if I can have the sweet that comes with it. Thanks to those who helped make it that way.

Another Layer

• 103 pages


• 503 footnotes


• 201 sources



• 7-page letter to graduate school reader


• 49 references (in the letter)


• 20 uses of "§" symbol (in the letter)


• 13 photocopies and/or FirstSearch printouts (accompanying the letter)

---

Is the editing finished? I certainly hope so. If you've been waiting for me to do something, this is why the wait's been so long.

Peace.

no one's going to believe this

There was an earthquake last night in Illinois. It was strong enough that I could hear it. I'd never consciously felt one before and it was both cool and damned freaky. For more, see the U.S. Geological Survey page about it.

The Outside World

What follows are some of the things growing outside of my house right now.

Dark blue petunia.



Same flower, close up.



And again. Would've been nice if I'd moved that blade of grass, hmm?



These are some sort of lily, but I'm not sure exactly.



Same lilies, close up.



The best photograph of the ones that I took yesterday, in my judgment. I was experimenting with the Macro function on the camera, closeups from a very short distance.



The camera is really just too much fun. I highly recommend the digital route to anyone who hasn't tried it. Although I appreciate film and don't foresee completely abandoning it, the flexibility of taking so many more shots with no risk makes digital hard to beat for practicality.

Bloggy (& other) Complications & Misgivings

* I checked out a book from the library. The book is called Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity, written by David Allen. It's been on the coffee table since I brought it home. I think it's already overdue. It now feels like much more than a book that I haven't started--it's become symbolic. Maybe I'll start it tonight....

* I mentioned some "fan mail" recently. There have been 4 unsolicited, unexpected communications, actually. One could literally be called fan mail, although that's a stretch. I think it was more of a subtle plug for the person's book; they probably read enough of the blog to realize that I select fiction for a public library and designed their email message around that.

The second was a comment that I replied to by email, in which I asked how the blog was discovered. To my great chagrin, it was a rather complex trail that ended in these search terms: naked skydiving. I've never used it as a phrase before, but the individual words existed on the blog. (Yeah, like how many times have I used "naked"? I shudder to guess.) I'm pleased that the person who found it that way chose to remain once the more prosaic nature of the site was discovered.

The third was an email from a Family-Oriented Search Engine, soliciting my site for Premier Status. Apparently "someone" found this blog using the above-referenced engine and so I was being offered the opportunity to Make More Money by becoming a Premier Member. I was curious, so I clicked through and discovered that for the low, low price of $50, premier membership would be accomplished. The gain for me is questionable, particularly since my Family-Orientedness is in question. The very day that the email arrived, I wrote the ill-considered but humorous and popular Bacon post.

The fourth, received last night, was an email message from the author of a book that I recently reviewed. How cool is that?! I was thrilled! But...there was a problem. It was not a positive review. The email message, however, didn't acknowledge that. Not at all. And I suppose if one's written a book, any press is good press, and any links are good links. But I sort of slammed the book. Sort of called her characters by bad names.

What am I supposed to do with this? Does this add yet another layer of "I need to be more careful about what I post" to the already complex formulary of this blog? Do I need to consider this before I post book reviews in the future? Or can I just push it aside and assume that she's the exception in authors who will bother checking to see who's reviewed their stuff online, and also that she's the exception in those who would specifically take the time to comment when a review's less than positive? I'm at a loss.

* I just finished editing the body of my thesis. There were two pages that contained no editing marks. Two! Pages 74 and 79. There's no way to adequately impart to you the disgust, stifled rage, and despair that suffused me when I realized that. I know that I should be able to take it more philosophically and remember that it's not a reflection of the way that I write, but only of that particular (and very single-purpose) document. But holy crap, two pages?!

All that's left is to re-write the entire Bibliography according to some peculiar and archaic style that I'd never even heard of until today (yes, I should have known about it before, but that's the problem of thinking you know everything about something like writing), rechecking page by page to make sure that I made all of the minute changes that the reader demanded, and then reprinting it and Express Mailing it to Ypsi. Out of my hands for another couple of weeks.

* Discovered this morning [goddamnedfuckingbullshit] that I'd failed to return a form in response to my summons for jury duty. Another thing that I'd have realized if I'd bothered to read past the part that pissed me off. But in my own defense it wasn't very clear and I was really pissed off. So I dashed it off this morning and sent it out...only 8 days late. If that is the only thing that prevents me from being excused, I'm not sure what I'll do.

* With aid from a knowledgeable (and/or enthusiastic) source, I'm building a new blog template rather than nudging this one into a different format. It'll take longer, but it'll be a vast improvement. Didn't realize I'd have to learn CSS in the process, and since HTML is still new to me, it's a struggle. But it's also kind of fun and definitely cool to have someone smoothing out the rough spots with me. I might even spring for Blogger*Pro and ditch the top-line ad at the same time as the new template is launched. Time will tell.

Where to go...

This is a fairly long online quiz, but it was terribly interesting anyway: Best Places to Live. I found my results quite revealing:
Milwaukee WI
Baton Rouge LA
Las Vegas NV
New Orleans LA
Chicago IL
Providence RI
Champaign-Urbana IL
Sheboygan WI
LaCrosse WI
Lafayette LA
Alexandria LA
Little Rock AR
Kenosha WI
Eau Claire WI
New Haven CT
Las Cruces NM
Hartford CT
Oak Park IL
Oshkosh/Appleton/Neenah WI
Madison WI
Baltimore MD
Boston MA
Los Angeles CA
Worcester MA

Since I'm contemplating short trips to a couple of these places at this very moment, it's all that much more...appealing. And I promise to be good while I'm gone.

Thursday Threesome

::Capricious: Governed or characterized by impulse or whim, lacking rational basis or likely to change suddenly::

Onesome: Characterized by impulse--Do you consider yourself impulsive or do you tend to think everything through before you make a move?
I like to consider myself thoughtful and contemplative, but my true nature is increasingly coming through. I'm impulsive, and I'm more often pleased and comfortable with the results when I just go with my instincts rather than overthinking.

Twosome: lacking rational basis--If you are impulsive, do you rationalize and justify your actions? Like, since that item you bought on a whim was on sale, you really saved money by buying it?
I guess I was looking at it in a more long-term fashion, but yeah, I do rationalize. How can you not? Otherwise you're saying, "I'm not in control of myself and that's fine with me."  What a scary thought.

Threesome: or likely to change suddenly--When you make up your mind, does it stay made up or do you tend to change your mind at the last minute? ...or do you waffle back and forth until you're forced to decide?
There's some waffling, but only because I know what I want and my Id's working to talk my superego out of talking me out of it. I shouldn't say "waffling" then--it's more like debate, but from the start I know who's going to win. Maybe it seems to others like I waffle and change my mind at the last minute, but I know all along what the decision will be.

Forest or Trees?

Spent too much time thinking lately. Bloodshot eyes, crinkled forehead, tension headache, cranky. Try to remind myself that I'll never figure it all out so there's no sense in trying so hard, but it's counter to my nature to just let it go. It would be a hell of a lot easier if other people weren't being so obstructive, but I guess if I was rational I would acknowledge that I knew it was like that all along and work around them.

Having tea tonight with T & L. It'll be good for me, particularly if they do the talking.

Yargh. No more thinking. Just read--today's poem.

Whoever You Are, Holding Me Now In Hand
by Walt Whitman

WHOEVER you are, holding me now in hand,
Without one thing, all will be useless,
I give you fair warning, before you attempt me further,
I am not what you supposed, but far different.

Who is he that would become my follower?
Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections?

The way is suspicious--the result uncertain, perhaps destructive;
You would have to give up all else--I alone would expect to be your God, sole and exclusive,
Your novitiate would even then be long and exhausting,
The whole past theory of your life, and all conformity to the lives
around you, would have to be abandon'd;
Therefore release me now, before troubling yourself any further--Let go your hand from my shoulders,
Put me down, and depart on your way.

Or else, by stealth, in some wood, for trial,
Or back of a rock, in the open air,
(For in any roof'd room of a house I emerge not--nor in company,
And in libra-ries I lie as one dumb, a gawk, or unborn, or dead,)
But just possibly with you on a high hill--first watching lest any person, for miles around, approach unawares,
Or possibly with you sailing at sea, or on the beach of the sea, or some quiet island,
Here to put your lips upon mine I permit you,
With the comrade's long-dwelling kiss, or the new husband's kiss,
For I am the new husband, and I am the comrade.

Or, if you will, thrusting me beneath your clothing,
Where I may feel the throbs of your heart, or rest upon your hip,
Carry me when you go forth over land or sea;
For thus, merely touching you, is enough--is best,
And thus, touching you, would I silently sleep and be carried eternally.

But these leaves conning, you con at peril,
For these leaves, and me, you will not understand,
They will elude you at first, and still more afterward--I will certainly elude you,
Even while you should think you had unquestionably caught me, behold!
Already you see I have escaped from you.

For it is not for what I have put into it that I have written this book,
Nor is it by reading it you will acquire it,
Nor do those know me best who admire me, and vauntingly praise me,
Nor will the candidates for my love, (unless at most a very few,) prove victorious,
Nor will my poems do good only--they will do just as much evil, perhaps more;
For all is useless without that which you may guess at many times and not hit--that which I hinted at;
Therefore release me, and depart on your way.

Things I've Seen, etc.

    People sometimes ask me why I haven't made the commitment to get an MLS [yet]. The 15 June 2004 issue of Library Journal provided a good answer to that:

Top 10 Annoying Responses When You Tell Someone You're in Library School:
10. I'd love to be a librarian because libraries are so quiet.
9. I thought about becoming a librarian, but I need enough income to support myself.
8. You need a graduate degree for that?
7. I thought the Internet put libraries out of business.
6. Don't you have enough college degrees now?
5. I think it's wonderful that you can pursue a hobby like that.
4. You have to go to college for that?
3. I don't see much purpose to libraries; I buy all my books at Costco.
2. I'd love to be a librarian because I'd love to read at work.
1. You have to go to school for that?
[Jane G. Gresham, School of Information Resources & Library Science, U of A, Tucson]

Found at: Friday's Feast via the Meme Freak and Sweet Memes.

The Meme: The Feast

Appetizer: What is your middle name? Would you change any of your names if you could? If so, what would you like to be called?
My middle name is [redacted]. I'd change it. It came from my mom's sister--her favorite sister, I thought--and I loved that when I was younger. When my mom had cancer and my aunt didn't visit or call, having a part of her as part of me became significantly less valuable.
Besides, this name? It's either childish or good for porn. The main value to me has always been in filling out forms - it's short. Let's just say that I don't find my name to be representative of the way that I see myself.

Soup: If you were a fashion designer, which fabrics, colors, and styles would you probably use the most?
Leather, linen, cotton. Black, blue, gray, white. Styles - ouch, I can't say 'cause T's got me scared of my own style shadow. Tee hee

Salad: What is your least favorite chore, and why?
Cleaning the cat box. If you've cleaned a cat box, you know why. If you haven't, you don't need to know.

Main Course: What is something that really frightens you, and can you trace it back to an event in your life?
When I was pretty young our neighbor's dog (a German Shepherd mix) had a large litter of puppies. I didn't know anything about dogs, and ran across the yard to get someone's attention. The mother dog instantly go up in defense of her pups and attacked me. I wasn't injured, but I've never really lost that sense of fear.

Dessert: Where are you sitting right now? Name 3 things you can see at this moment.
At my desk at work. I can see about a thousand pieces of paper, 6 bizarre CDs needing original records and my tiny, cute mobile phone.

I Don't Know What the Hell This Means, But...

...it makes me laugh. I am Ottava rima!

Ottava rima? Me? That can't be right!    Too frivolous? But tut, there's no such thing! Let others ponder thoughts of wrong and right,    Or sit and think how much they love the spring; I'd rather spend my time in gleeful spite,    Or maybe laugh, or maybe sit and sing. Besides, it might be fun to be inspiring - But surely it would get so very tiring. What Poetry Form Are You?

Thanks, Annie.

Status Update

    Mondays. Often the time when we take a few moments to contemplate the weekend past and the week to come. What does it all mean? Why do we do it? Why do we expend so much energy on stuff that doesn't matter, missing out on the those things that--and people who--do?
    Saturday was another thesis editing day. I cannot express how frustrating this is. Yes, I care too much about it. Yes, I take every little comment and criticism personally. But these changes are mandatory unless there's justification to not make them, so if I feel strongly about them, I need to provide that justification. That means I spend the majority of my so-called editing time making photocopies of and highlighting articles (to prove that funky punctuation didn't sprout forth from my imagination but is English English or Irish English rather than American English, for example), and re-typing whole sections of Turabian just so I don't have to change a semicolon into a colon. Why am I teaching grammar to someone with a Ph.D. in English?! And why am I doing it when there are 33 days until this fucking document has to be signed, copied and ready to be bound in order for me to finally collect this stupid degree? Sigh. I'm on page 57. Only about 46 pages to go.
    Later on Saturday, when I could not stand one more minute of wanting to scream over my thesis, I drove around the metropolis running errands. Picked up a package that had been delivered to the library: a huge box of clothes that I'd ordered in a moment of weakness. I knew I wouldn't want to keep all of it, but I was surprised by what I did keep. Some frightfully professional-leaning pants--the professionalism mitigated by the flowy, almost ethereal quality of the linen. A couple of cotton lawn shirts (camisoles required). A weird, sort of Caribbean-like embroidered blouse with 3/4 sleeves. (Weird because it's not something I would've chosen two months ago but it looked great on.) Also picked up a couple of gift certificates at the salon and...more OPI lacquer (it was on sale) in Grape Wall of China. Not only do I love the name, but it's a very cool color. (If you click the link, it's not the color in the bottle, but the stripe below.) Drove around for an hour or so afterward. Nice day. Cool.
    Saturday night, dealt with some photography issues. The learning curve with a digital camera is extensive. Main problem: setting the image size to a smaller one, and the image quality to a higher one. I just need to read the manual. Also filed a pile of old photographs from my sophomore and junior years in college in an album. It was a little depressing, very hilarious, somewhat melancholy, and totally weird. I haven't seen some of the people pictured in a dozen years, and I miss some of them more than I could possibly explain. I found the one photograph that I ever took of my friend Traci J. ...and it's no wonder I never framed it. She's passed out on a disgusting-looking couch at the Parking Lot House, wearing the micro-est of mini-skirts. I'll just leave it at that.
    Sunday. Shopping in the megalopolis with T. Lots of talking since we haven't seen each other in way too long. Went to J.Jill to get another white t-shirt like the one that I absolutely love. They sold out. (Grrrr.) Picked up a couple of things at the VS Semi-Annual sale. (Like they don't have "sales" all the time at which their things are only expensive, instead of ferociously expensive. I'll pay it and not complain. But the next time someone asks me if I have an Angels card I'm ripping their head off and bowling it out the door.) Sandals. My weird hair conditioner, which isn't available closer than 30 miles to home. Seeking an AC adapter for the camera, but couldn't come up with one. Another bottle of OPI - Aphrodite's Pink Nightie. Lunch at Friday's, before which I was dead-on checked out by a guy walking out with his wife and kid. It was hilarious and ego-boosting and sad at the same time. (He was unbelievably gorgeous, which helped with the second of those attributes, to be sure.)
    Last night, wanting to work on a project but not able to devote the time that I wanted to it. Feeling pulled in different directions. Knowing what I want to do, but it's not always what I should do. I don't work well under those circumstances. Trying to maintain perspective.
    And it's raining today. Doesn't it always rain on Mondays?

Book Review: In the Stacks

Title: In the Stacks: Short Stories about Libraries and Librarians
Author: edited and with an introduction by Michael Cart

Review: This sounded fascinating when I first heard about it. I started reading it at Christmas and realized that I was wrong in that assessment. The paperback version is nearly 270 pages of 8-point type, 19 short stories about two relatively dry subjects. I’ve had to force myself through the majority of the collection. Three of the stories were outstanding: "Summer Librarian" by Sue Kaufman, "Rubber Life" by Francine Prose (who is, incidentally, not a favorite of mine), and "Exchange" by Ray Bradbury. A couple of the others were so dreadful (or just dreadfully dull) that I couldn’t finish reading them, something that I find very difficult and depressing. And in a compilation like this, it just pisses me off because the stories—and their inclusion—only serve to foster the misperception of libraries and librarians as dull as dishwater entities.

I can say that In the Stacks earned a 7 solely on the basis of the three above-named stories, although there were several others that contributed to the book’s quality. However, I’d have happily paid more than the $14.95 cover price to have done without about 6 of the others. [Sigh.] Recommended with reservations.

Book Review: My Daughter's Boyfriend

Title: My Daughter's Boyfriend
Author: Cydney Rax

Review: Wook. OK. First, I want to acknowledge that the author of this book has a BS from grad school University, and for that I feel a sense of kinship, perhaps, that mitigates the force of this review. Now, with that dealt with, I can move on. For the sake of clarity while I was reading, I assigned nicknames to the 3 main characters to keep their attributes straight in my mind. Lauren, 18 years old, is "Belligerent, Irritating, Troubling, Cold 'Heifer'" (that last bit is something that Lauren’s friends call her, apparently an African American thing that I’m not getting at all, a reminder that this was so not written for me.) Tracey, her mother, is "Confused, Un-motherly, Narcissistic Tart." Lauren’s boyfriend, Aaron, is "Poorly-drawn, Lying, Arrogant Yet [oddly] Attractive Homey."
    The plot, in a nutshell: Lauren and Aaron are dating. Aaron, who’s in his 20s, wants to "take their relationship to the next level." Lauren’s not ready, in part because Tracey’s constantly harping on her that she shouldn’t turn out like she (Tracey) did, having a child while she was a teenager. So Lauren’s going to wait. Well, Tracey’s boyfriend, "Mr. Steve," dumps her. And she’s feeling low. And Aaron’s always been kind of attentive and friendly. So when he makes the moves, she reciprocates. Yeah, she does her daughter’s boyfriend. Lauren’s father (with whom Tracey hasn’t had a relationship in several years) catches them together in a hotel and forces Aaron to break things off with Lauren, which he’s been planning to do anyway. A few weeks later, Lauren catches the two together at the apartment that she shares with her mother.
    The rest of the book is people chuckin' accusations at each other, suffering recriminations, and generally feeling bad about everyone around them and themselves. I’m not sure what the point was, to tell the truth. It seemed like what Lauren and Aaron had was a childish relationship, and what Tracey and Aaron had was somewhat closer to an adult-type relationship, albeit extremely poorly-chosen and badly carried-out. But their affection for each other was presented as real for ¾ of the book and then suddenly it was yanked away as justification for what they’d done—it was all colored with the 'Dirty' pen. And the hapless reader was left feeling somewhat ill-used by the whole experience. Why did I invest 3 days' time in reading this book, if it was going to turn on me like this?
    Ugh. Too much introspection. The book's not worth it.
    It's a 6, and I think I'm being generous in that. Maybe that's the titillation factor, even. Unless you're wowed by the idea, don't bother.

More Photos

This stack of files (and other highly-important stuff) is on the desk next to my thesis computer.

Sometimes the bleakness of my books has to be broken up by something unexpected, like a box of chicken notecards.

When I was in college, I dated a guy--very briefly--who came to be represented by this little piggy.

The pig now hangs from a shelf upon which my cats enjoy the sun.

While I was taking these photos I realized that there's another pig hanging in the house. How weird is that?!

Finally, this is a shelf of some glass things and odd-sized (and subjected!) books.

Curiosity about the Law

One of the most common questions I've gotten, as an attorney, is, "Can I sue X?" The answer is simple--you can sue pretty much anyone you please. The question you should be asking is, "Will I win?"

For an example, you might want to take a quick look at the case of United States ex rel Gerald Mayo v. Satan.

(My favorite of the reasons that the case was not allowed to continue was "plaintiff's failure to include instructions for directions as to service of process.")

Thursday Threesome #253

::Things that go bump in the night::

Onesome: Things that go- What's the strangest contraption you've ever had to use to get from point A to point B?
The Miami MetroMover, probably. The thing just sounds rickety and weird. The escalator at the Bethesda Metro stop (Wisconsin Ave. at Montgomery Lane in Bethesda, MD) on the Washington, D.C. Metro Line is pretty freaky - it's the world's longest (tallest?) escalator. A boy who had a crush on me in high school took me for a ride in his dad's 6-seater (?) plane, too, but that's a story for another day.

Twosome: Bump- Have you ever hurt yourself doing something you weren't supposed to be doing?
When I was 9, maybe, I was home alone on New Year's Eve and naturally couldn't be content with eating Doritos and drinking Dr. Pepper until I burst, so I had to...rollerskate in the house, something which was strictly forbidden. After turning up the volume on Dick Clark's Rockin' Eve, in the process of skating backward (something that challenged me during the best of circumstances and on the smoothest of surfaces--textured carpeting not being one of them) I lost my balance and, flailing madly, slammed ass-first into the edge of the couch. Bruised my tailbone. To say "bruised" implies something more mild than this, though. I landed 100% on my microscopically small tailbone, which was then forced through all of my internal organs and into my throat. My whole back, my butt, and my thighs turned black and blue (and yellow - it was lovely!). I couldn't sit, or stand, or lay down comfortably for a month. And I couldn't tell anyone what had happened, see, because I'd be admitting to having done it in the first place.
    The real beauty of this story is that I'd won a radio contest that required me to go the station to retrieve my prize. Conveniently, since I was a child, my brother had received a Christmas gift that he needed to return in the same town. Hmm, if he was old enough to drive, I couldn't have been 9. I must've been at least 12. Fuck. That makes me sound decidedly more idiotic. Anyway, the day after this all happened, Big Brother drove us to the big city to do our errands. In his Jeep Wrangler. On the bumpy, beat-to-shit-by-winter northern highway. I thought I was going to die.
    Man, that story hurts.

Threesome: In the night- Do you believe in things that go bump in the night or anything supernatural?
I'm not exactly sure how to answer this. My first response is that there are enough things to be afraid of that are real, and that I don't borrow trouble. But I am prone to seeing signs sometimes. So I'll say, sometimes, in some ways, maybe.

From the Hmmmm File

Some of you may recall my decidedly ill-advised foray into a discussion of the erotic potential of bacon cologne on men. (If you haven't read it and are now curious, see The Perfect Scent.) However, I've been wildly, horrifically outdone by Marie Claire magazine. The July, 2004 issue contains an article entitled, "What's Your Guy's Secret Turn-On?" One of the subsections is Bacon. I could not hope to do it justice without direct quotation, so here it is in its entirety:

"Dave, 32, writer.
'I'm not certain how I got into bacon eroticism, but I think it goes back to my childhood, when I'd wake up Sunday mornings to the soothing aroma of bacon. In my mind, bacon equaled comfort. When I got to high school, I was intimidated by the idea of sex. But one day, I was sharing a BLT with a girl I really liked, and after a few bites, I had the confidence to make my move. Soon, I had a hard time achieving arousal without bacon. I began to use strips of bacon to, well, pleasure myself, and also rub on my partner, coating her with juices I would lick off with delight.
'In college, I felt comfortable enough to "break out the bacon" with more women. The cafeteria had bacon every morning, and I'd often sneak a few strips back to the dorm. Even if it wasn't actually part of sex, the bacon was always nearby, a "sexual night-light" of sorts.
'Most women I've been involved with are surprised by my fetish, but many are willing to indulge me--besides, when it comes right down to it, everybody loves bacon.'"

[Amy's editorial comment]: not that much...

No Quotin' Bowie

    But there've been changes nonetheless. The trip was cancelled, essentially for reasons outside of my control. I'll go soon, just not this week. Instead, I went to a consortium meeting yesterday after getting way too little sleep for the second night in a row and feeling rather horrid. (BTW, I laughed my ass off singing along with "Follow Me" by Uncle Kracker on the way up.)
     The meeting itself wasn't that bad, all things considered. Almost no one there. Short agenda. Not much discussion. Nearly complete agreement on nearly everything, although a great deal of that is the inertia of the Barely Breathing. Lunch plans w/L (The Cataloguer) afterward. Didn't realize until we were nearly inside the building that the Ground Round is closed and being renovated. Came as a surprise but mostly because we were just wandering in without paying attention. Ended up at The Bagel Place. Had a lovely bacon sandwich, which reminds me of something that I'll need to write about soon....
     The trip back was uneventful (no snow) but for the old lady (circa 1850) driving 100 mph in the passing zones, 50 mph in the no-passing zones. Could've clocked her across the head if I'd caught her, which I naturally did only in the no-passing zones!
     Bizarre afternoon. Some miscommunication that later got cleared up in a big way thanks to 20th century technology (I finally got a cell phone and I can already see that it's going to make my life a lot better). I'm learning how to use the digital camera. Change can be good.

! [jury duty ed.]

God fucking damn it - I got called for goddamnedfucking jury duty today. I have to appear on 12 July.

Not-So-Stormy Monday

    This was one of those insular weekends where I spent far too much time thinking and too little time breathing fresh air. It left me ruminating on some things that I need to get out.
~ Spent another five painful hours on Saturday editing the thesis. During one of those hours I did nothing but flip through the five boxes of note cards that help make up the bulk of the document. When I sat back to stretch out my stiff back, I realized that I was gazing down at the cards and boxes with an odd sense of pride and warmth. I love those cards. They still fascinate me. And as much as I fucking hate it, my thesis still fascinates me. I sat there on my living room floor and pondered that idea for a while and it simultaneously thrilled and repulsed me--I may be the world's foremost authority on Spanish and Irish neutrality in World War II (with the possible exception of my thesis advisor, I suppose, although even he would probably demur that).
    What the hell? How did I come upon something so esoteric? Something so unsexy? Something about which I cannot speak without sounding as if I'm lecturing, since no one knows anything about it? And after it's pulled so much of my soul from me, not to mention the headaches and hand cramps and other practical problems, how can it still make me want to plunk down on the floor and just read even more about it?
~ Memes. I like them. I struggle with "muddying up" the blog with them, spending too much time on them, distracting from the real point with them. I've considered curbing my enthusiasm for them, limiting myself to specific ones, or setting up a separate blog for them. However, my final analysis is this: it doesn't matter if no one cares. They work for me as writing and psychological exercises. They make me think, about myself, writing, html, my friends, and all sorts of other things for which I'm not going to apologize. I'm not under any illusion that any person reads every word I write, so as for memes--if you don't like it, don't read it.
~ Email is frustrating me in both ways lately. I spend too much time reading it and not replying, feeling like a creep for not staying in very close contact with the people I want to be closest to. Blowing people off is such high school behavior for me and I should be able to prioritize better than that. But I also send messages to people about whom I care, and I'm [apparently] blown off in return. So that irritating urge strikes, to send another message asking, "Did you get my message? Is everything ok? Why aren't you writing?" Fuck it. Perspective. My priorities are mine, but they're not everyone else's. It doesn't mean that I won't wonder if some people have fallen off the side of the planet, but maybe I can feel less like whining about it.
~ I'm dashing home for a couple of days this week. My band director from high school is retiring and there's a roast for him. It brings up lots of happy memories. Yeah, I was one of the weird ones in high school, hair flopping over one eye and the long coat and all that, but it wasn't an actual trench coat and my hair was always clean. (Does that make me a poseur poseur? I can still hear Shawn's voice, hear him screaming, "Fucking POSER!" Or trying to cajole me to do something that I knew I shouldn't do, positively crooning in my ear, "Sweeeet leafffy beeeeeeef!") Band was almost uniformly fun--yargh, no pun intended--and the director was a good guy in all ways. Naturally I have the usual regrets and second-guessing about my high school experience, but I'm completely happy to be able to drop everything to go back for a couple of days to say thanks to someone who did a lot to make it good.
~ The blog template--I'm going to make a radical change. Not sure when yet because it'll take a monstrous amount of changes. Feedback desired when it happens.
~ "Follow Me" by Uncle Kracker. Is it a good song or a nasty song? I'm still undecided.

Book Review: Playing James

Title: Playing James
Author: Sarah Mason

Review: I have nothing bad to say about this book except that it has a dumb cover and a title that’s almost completely unrelated to the subject matter. Other than that, it’s great. Holly Colshannon is a newspaper reporter who’s stuck on the pet funerals beat, wondering if she’ll ever have the opportunity to do actual journalism. When the crime reporter bails for a gig in London, she gets her big chance—she’s assigned to replace him. Unfortunately, things begin to go awry almost immediately when the PR woman at the police station cooks up a scheme to enhance the department’s reputation. Holly is to create a newspaper “diary” featuring Detective Sergeant James Sabine—chosen because he’s going to be married in 6 weeks and so the department wants to “protect” him for his big day. Holly and James are to spend every working day together, and mix like oil and water. Holly’s accident-prone. James is impatient and abrupt. James’ fiancée, Fleur, is the perfect lady. Holly’s boyfriend, Ben, is an easy-going rugby player. What could possibly go wrong?
    It’s not predictable. It’s fun, a quick read, and surprisingly thoughtful. And even if you think you know how it’ll end, you don’t. So there.
    It's a 9. Check it out from a library or buy it - you will like it.

My "Work Environment"

The bulletin board that hangs behind my desk:


My twin dino adoptees:


...in their tiny, handmade basket:

Book Review: Three Junes

Title: Three Junes
Author: Julia Glass

    Review: One of the best books I have ever read. It's difficult for me to say that after having taken so long to get into it, but it turned out to be so much more than I'd have imagined. It's a Damn book--the kind that, when I've finished it, I turn the last page, sit back and say, aloud, "Damn." And I sit there for a few minutes and ruminate on how different I am from when I began reading this book.
    Three Junes is a triptych of sorts, a novel in three overlapping parts. Yet it's also a very cleverly designed study of two characters whose lives don't intersect throughout the book. Much of my frustration with the early section of the book was that it didn't seem to be going anywhere. That would have been alleviated (or eliminated completely) had I been more aware of what was coming. (I generally avoid specific reviews of something like this because I don't want my own appreciation of it skewed by a reviewer's opinion.)
     Once into the second June, then, I was engrossed in the story of Fenno McLeod, a Scot living in New York but frequently traveling to his home country. And by the time I reached the third June, it was all I could do to put the book down and do ordinary things like sleep and eat. How can I not be moved by lines like this one: "'Never talk yourself out of knowing you're in love,' he says, 'or into thinking that you are.'"? Or a character who thinks this way, when asked by his young [French] niece if he is feeling sad: "I put an arm around her. 'No, sweetheart, not sad. Not exactly. But...mon coeur est fatigué.' It is the simplest explanation I can find; how could I tell her that my heart is in fact imploding?"
     There is much about this novel that I adored and that I wish to immediately fall back into and read again, now that I know more. And there are some things about it that I might have done differently, had I done them myself, but I do not mean to imply that I didn't love it. This is a 10, a book that I will read again--and recommend to anyone who's not afraid of thinking.

Random Pictures from My Life

Part of my collection of little boxes:


Inspiration atop my monitor (on the computer where I'm writing my thesis). Note the plastic cow stomping on the cast model of the Supreme Court of the United States, next to the Oscar Mayer wiener whistle:


Gopher as Devil:

Thursday Threesome - built just for me!

From the "School Daze" Division:
::School Bus Stop::
Onesome: School-- Since the school year seems to be over (your mileage may vary: some of you are already in summer sessions!): what was your favorite year in school? Yeah, the one you had the best time in or learned something special or had that learning breakthrough?

My favorite year in school was my senior year. I'd finally developed into something other than an abject dweeb so I had something to do every night that I wanted to be "out". I worked more than 20 hours a week so I had a ton of money to spend on all my bad habits--mostly gas and boys. And even though I was busier than I'd ever been, my grades were also excellent. It was a great year.

Twosome: Bus-- Hey, how did you get to school in the early years? Walk? Bike? Mommy van? Bus? ...and for those still attending, how are you getting to and fro these days?

Bus. We lived 7 miles outside of town on the top of a hill. My bus came at 7:25 AM and half the time I was 3/4 asleep for the trip. I wouldn't get home until almost 4:00. I had some truly good friends on that bus, though.

Threesome: Stop-- ...and when did you stop going to school? ...or did you? Are you still at it? Amy plans to go back for those who are out of the system?

Did anyone else read that closely and see that my name is there rather than "Any"? I think that's fucking priceless. As for my answer to this question, I'm still not goddamned through editing my thesis, so I'm still going. And I always think of going back, or what the next degree might be. Everybody needs a Ph.D., right? If only someone would pay me enough that I'd feel like I could stop looking for something else...

The Avalanche Has Begun

    Acquisition: Canon PowerShot A80 

Meet P:

(She looks a bit drunk here but was just a little too fascinated with the camera to sit still.)

And rediscover H:

(The real reason I never get anything done at home--she's always sitting on my desk chair.)

Stuff & Nonsense

* The Hallmark card that always gets me, no matter how many times I see it:

front cover shows an ethnic-looking man in a turquoise spandex unitard liberally
decorated with sequins, gazing into the middle distance. The caption reads,
"'So, you will not go to Omaha with Paco? Paco can show you many things, but Paco
will not beg.'"
The inside of the card reads, "Birthday or not, don't go with Paco."
* According to The Gematriculator:

Please read more about this because it really is fascinating. (Thanks to Annie at The Catalogue Blog.)
* There's some indication that my job title may change from "Head of Technical Services" to "Head of Collection Management". Sounds better to me.
* Today's Poem: "Lessons"
by Walt Whitman
    There are who teach only the sweet lessons of peace and safety;
    But I teach lessons of war and death to those I love,
    That they readily meet invasions, when they come.
* I feel like such a schmuck when I listen to my Better Than Ezra CDs. Why didn't I love them before? Why did I waste so much time not appreciating? What a fool.
* This weather - fabulous. Wondrous. The only thing that could make it better would be rational institutional A/C.

It's 'Who U Hump' Day

    In honor of the me I used to be, hiding behind a notebook in high school and always wearing shorts in defiance of public opinion, I offer two Mind Humps from Blog Drive Insanity (inspired by J.R.'s Meme Freak and the Cat's Sweet Memes)...

This week ... a getting to know you hump!

01. You are a source of light. What are you and why? I'm a candle. Natural, powerful, regenerative, painful (but only if treated incautiously), and fascinating--particularly when I'm being watched by someone under the influence.02. There's a huge neon sign above your head everywhere you go ... what is it flashing?

     Caution? No, seriously, it would be something like this: "Deep Water." 

03. If you could be anyone's blog, whose would you be and why? (Provide a link to that blog) Oh, God, this is sooooooooooo tempting! I can't answer this the way that I want to answer it (all I can say is, the comma goes outside the quotation marks!). So I'll have to use my second best option, which is actually a very, very close second and a very easy choice: J.R.'s Mermaid not Flame. It's thoughtful, interesting, hilarious and scathingly funny, erudite, welcoming... everything I'd like to be.

04. If you could have a vanity phone number, what would it be and what would it spell? See, this is why I'd never have a vanity plate--my brain just doesn't work in this direction. But if really, really pushed, I'd say...276-7848 (2smrt4u). Yuck.

05. Look around you .... name two odd things in your vicinity and explain why they are there. 1. Two-headed dinosaur (toy) in tiny cardboard "basket" tied with red ribbon, accompanied by a note that reads:

Dear sir or Madam-

I regret to say that I can no longer take care of my young, two-headed, dino-esque offspring. You may not be aware of it, but dinosaurs are now actually extinct. You see how this makes my situation difficult. How can I feed two mouths, miniature yet voraciously hungry, when I am extinct? I ask that you please take care of my plasticated child, the last of this certain unknown breed of dinosaurs that is not, in any way, related to the dreaded thunder lizard. I am sure that he/she/they will bring you much love.

Thank you,
Anonymous

2. A mix CD called "What Do You Think?!"

********************************************************** 

The Meme: I say, you think...

01. bright : light
02. twister : [Sleek]
03. marshmallow : cream! For shaving!!
04. bud : vase
05. master : yes
06. blink : once
07. [suave] : and debonair
08. bikini : wax (ouch)
09. dash : off
10. elementary : [redacted]

Fascinating, eh? Back to work. (blegh)

Just One of Those Days

    I was in a perfectly fine mood when I hopped in the car this morning, a good 35 minutes late for work before I even left the house. It was warm (73° then, 79° now), sunny, and just a decent day all around. But I wanted something kind of... 'cranky' on the CD player, so I popped in J.R.'s mix for those Dodgeball days, also called the "I just need to scream really loud" mix. Thus, this is how I, for all intents and purposes, started my day socially:

Limp Bizkit - "Break Stuff"
It's just one of those days
When you don't wanna wake up
Everything is fucked
Everybody sucks
You don't really know why
But want justify
Rippin' someone's head off
No human contact
And if you interact
Your life is on contract
Your best bet is to stay away motherfucker
It's just one of those days!

[chorus]
Its all about the he says/she says bullshit
I think you better quit
Lettin' shit slip
Or you'll be leavin' with a fat lip
Its all about the he says/she says bullshit
I think you better quit talkin' that shit
(Punk, so come and get it)

It's just one of those days
Feelin' like a freight train
First one to complain
Leaves with a blood stain
Damn right I'm a maniac
You better watch your back
'Cause I'm fuckin' up your program
And if you're stuck up
You just lucked up
Next in line to get fucked up
Your best bet is to stay away motherfucker
It's just one of those days!

[chorus]

I feel like shit
My suggestion is to keep your distance 'cause right now I'm dangerous
We've all felt like shit
And been treated like shit
All those motherfuckers that want to step up
I hope you know I pack a chain saw
I'll skin your ass raw
And if my day keeps goin' this way I just might break somethin' tonight...
I hope you know I pack a chain saw
I'll skin your ass raw
And if my day keeps goin' this way I just might break somethin' tonight...
I hope you know I pack a chain saw
I'll skin your ass raw
And if my day keeps goin' this way I just might break your fuckin' face tonight!
Give me somethin' to break
How bout your fuckin' face
I hope you know I pack a chain saw, what!...

[chorus]

    Mmm. It hasn't adversely affected my mood in the slightest; if anything, I'm feeling a little more goofy and gregarious with only a tiny bit of snarky thrown in for balance. I wish all my friends such an experience.
    Happy Monday!

Ironical

I am a Linguistic Thinker

Linguistic thinkers: Tend to think in words, and like to use language to express complex ideas. Are sensitive to the sounds and rhythms of words as well as their meanings.

Like linguistic thinkers, Leonardo made meticulous descriptions in his journals. He also made an effort to learn Latin - a foreign language.

Other Linguistic Thinkers include: William Shakespeare, Sylvia Plath, Anne Frank.

Careers which suit Linguistic thinkers include: Journalist, Librarian, Salesperson, Proof-reader, Translator, Poet, Lyricist

What kind of thinker are you?

[Thanks, Annie]

Profusely Annoying

If I'd realized how fucking horrid it would be to deal with the graduate school's copy-editing process, I'd have been filled to bursting with transparent joy every goddamned time I had the blissful opportunity to interact with my--by comparison--reasonable and knowledgeable thesis committee.

Grrrr.

Triumph

    Sometimes things are more than what they seem to be. This afternoon, for instance, was ostensibly about shopping. It quickly showed itself to be more than that, though, as T was feeling "solar powered" from the amazing weather and I rebounded from an early-morning headache that was shocking enough to wake me from a deep sleep and impel me toward the Imitrex. We were both pretty spunky when we arrived at G-burb. An hour and a half later when we left the first store we'd entered--Victoria's Secret--we were looking somewhat bedraggled and sullen. Not because we'd been unsuccessful in our quest for purchases (far from it!) but because I have never in my life tried on so many items of clothing in such a short period of time. It was completely insane. T bought a couple of things that she'd been looking for and managed to keep relatively within her budget ballpark. I went completely out of character wild. Things I needed, things I wanted, and things I let the salespeople talk me into. It was so much fun, but totally crazy. The bag is actually heavy. Now that I've pulled it out of the bag I'm thinking that maybe I went a little overboard, but I think I'll wear all of it. Hmm...
    After VS we headed to Ann Taylor. Not the kind of store at which I shop, although I struggled for the right word to explain my problem with it. T found several skirts, dresses and blouses to try on. Liked a pair of sandals but at $100+ they were beyond silly for the length of time one could use them in the northern summer. She ended up buying a skirt, a tiny sweater shell, and trouser socks. Practical but not boring. And as we left the store, the word that I'd been seeking came to me: precious. The place is too damned precious for me. My shoulders aren't microscopic and I don't like clothes that look like they were designed for infants. She was surprisingly not insulted by what I said, but I think that's in part because she thinks that I dress like an idiot. (We're not all that much alike in that regard.)
    We dropped the bags in the car and hopped off to Barnes & Noble for a snack. Tired feet already. Although we hadn't planned to buy anything, I couldn't get out without indulging in something I wouldn't usually get-- every Better Than Ezra CD that I hadn't owned before. Yup, I got: Deluxe; Friction, Baby; and How Does Your Garden Grow?--all at once. It was partially the "I've already spent a ton of money so what difference will this make?" and partially the "I want it now" impatience and fun of shopping that did me in. Not that I don't love them already; How Does Your Garden Grow? just ended and I'm popping in Friction, Baby now.
    Moving on: J. Jill. I had no real idea that I'd find anything there because I've secretly thought of that store as being the female version of J.Crew--kind of, er, irritatingly preppy and "crisp". But I've asked T to influence my wardrobe more, so we went in and she showed me some things that she thought I should wear. I tried a few shirts: one was hilariously tight, one wasn't bad but perhaps a little more opaque than I'm looking for, and one was just right (thanks, Goldy). I just checked the website and none of them are pictured (dammit) but they do have the anklet that I picked up at the last minute. T got another skirt--a gorgeous raspberry with an overskirt of white embroidered sheer--and a very cute pink cross-over knit shirt. As we hobbled to the car we realized that we should've worn different shoes were both too tired and sore to continue. A pathetic display of weakness, but we're out of practice.
    Stopped at Target Greatland on the way out of town. Nothing exciting there, but we each managed to spend a bit anyway. Then we took an unexpected jaunt through the outskirts of...the outskirts. Quite an indirect route, actually, but home with no trouble.
    Now I'm doing laundry and contemplating a late dinner. What an excellent day.

Feeling Strangely Fine

        I know I've been harping on the weather lately, but after the wettest May on record for this part of the Flat, all this sunshine is making a significant impact on my mood. It's unbelievably beautiful outside right now--68°, sunny, a tiny breeze, cloudless sky--and I woke up early on purpose, on a Saturday of all days, just because it seemed wrong to stay in bed and miss it. That's completely out of character for me. My parents would be thrilled that their slacker daughter seems to finally be conforming to their "early to rise" mentality. It'll all fall apart once it starts getting humid & gross, though, as this state always does in the summertime.
     The long-awaited shopping extravaganza is occurring this afternoon. T & I will trundle ourselves off to the G-burb, one of those "it wasn't there 6 months ago but now I can't find a parking space" faux-small town-looking shopping explosions. (It's not a strip mall, godforbid, but stores that are connected...and a huge parking lot...and lots of them are chain stores...but it's all upscale and obnoxious so that soothes the anti-mall outrage of the suburbanites who moved away from the 'burbs because they didn't want the congestion and they did want that small-town feel.) It's not the ideal trip and it's not the ideal day, because I have a long list of things that I want and she's buying little if anything, and we've only a few hours in which to maneuver for parking spaces around the soccer mommies in their Hummers making assignations with their gardener/pool boy/lovers on their Blackberries....
     [Yeah, women who write are too creative sometimes.]
     I think I've mentioned my bathroom renovation in passing once or twice. It's nearly finished so here are more details. The walls are dark; the color is by Olympic and is called Blue Fjord. The fixtures are bone, so the ceiling paint is also Bone, and the carpeting will be something close to that. (The room is absolutely minute and I'm leaving the carpet to the last choice because it can be a remnant and still be good quality.) The towel bars and all other metal pieces are brushed nickel. The medicine cabinet and all other wooden items are mahogany. It should be finished by Sunday (?) and as soon as the before and after photos are developed I'll post them.
    Time to get ready. Bon weekend, y'all!

Comparisons

    It's another gorgeous early summer day in the Flat. Hard to believe and particularly precious after so many weeks of dark and rain. No matter how good it looks, though, it'll never look as good to me--or feel as good to me--as Miami did. I'm starting to wonder if I'm a warm-weather girl at heart.
    This is the first view I had of the Atlantic Ocean, after T and I had walked across the beach. (The cruise ship offers visual perspective but was definitely not the point of the photograph.)

     Another shot of the ocean. The colors of sky and water blew me away after the dull Midwestern winter.

      This shows some of the Miami Beach skyline, much of which is multi-colored in pastel shades. It's rather garish and funky and takes some getting used to, but overall I thought it was aesthetically appealing, particularly with the almost unreal blue of the sky behind.

     Proof that we were there--that's T on the left (in jeans) and me (so pale!) on the right.

      Another self-portrait, this one entitled "Legs Sans Seaweed Immediately Before Tide Came In."

 
     I want to go back.

The Northwest? Side of the Tornado

* Shaving the other morning with a new brand of razor, the Bic "Soleil". It has moisturizing strips. It was the second use of that particular razor, so the strips had been wet when it was stored. I applied shaving cream, which is actually Aveeno Positively Smooth Shave Gel--which smells like oatmeal cookies, and if you haven't experienced it first-hand you should go to Target, grab a can from the shelf, pull off the top and smell it. No need to spray it, just sniff. Anyway, once the area was slathered in cream I drew the razor over it and the moisturizing strip, gooey from being capped wet, mixed with the shave gel, ending up looking and smelling exactly like Marshmallow Creme! It was so cool. Of course I was laughing my ass off and ended up slicing off a chunk of my arm, but it was worth it. Shaving with Marshmallow Creme! Too funny.
* My high school band director is retiring and I'm tempted to go to the retirement party.
* It's a fucking gorgeous day. 68° and sunny. Why am I at work?
* I'll be tweaking the blog template quite a bit over the next week or two. If I do anything you hate, let me know (email or comment). If I do anything you love, let me know.
* That reminds me: I got my first blog fan mail!! That's both great for my ego and hilarious. I haven't responded yet because I don't know what to say. Surreal!

Thursday Threesome, ver. 060304

"When you're curious, you find lots of interesting things to do." -- Walt Disney

Onesome: When you're curious- Is there a specific subject you're especially curious about? A person? A region of the world? An animal? A field of study?
    I'm responding to this fresh, without having read the questions or anyone else's answers, so this is making me laugh really hard. OK. I'll try to be serious. Hmm. A specific subject I'm curious about. Choosing to answer this from an intellectual, academic standpoint, I'll say--Philosophy, particularly Utilitarianism. A specific person I'm curious about? Well, I have made a new friend recently, someone with whom I've got a surprising amount in common (besides the obvious - we're both lawyers).... It's been a long time since I've had someone to talk to about law & stuff. But the better (?) answer would be Wilhelm Canaris, a Nazi executed for his role in the plot to assassinate Hitler. A region of the world--that's easy: Ireland. An animal? I've always liked squirrels. Field of study? I think I might need to start work on another degree soon. Maybe English.
Twosome: you find lots of interesting- What do you consider your most interesting trait/ feature?
    Modesty? Nah. Willingness--to learn, to see.
Threesome: things to do- What's on your list of things to do everyday, whether you want to or not? Filing, phone calls, homework, chasing around after kiddos, cooking, cleaning, etc.
    I've several lists, but I'm not ruled by them. If this question seeks an answer for "What do I do each day that I don't particularly enjoy?", the answer would be that I get out of bed too early, I wear grown-up clothes, I make nice with people all day when what I really want is to close the door and turn up the CD player, and I manage to do it all without seeming too crazy. If the point is a literal list, mine are more long-term and vague, perhaps by design.

No Insult Intended

I gave an erroneous impression yesterday. My thoughts about elephants recently have been, for all intents and purposes, positive. The initial analogy was in regard to a very close, very important friend with whom I argued last week. But our friendship will live a long time, despite our occasional bickering. (Elephants live a long time.) And we can survive taking things out on each other (or even taking things out about each other) because we're both strong. (Elephants have tough skin.) And I'm going to do my best to not forget where my priorities lie. (Elephants never forget.) It's not exactly a mnemonic - call it a mantra of a friendship.

Attitude

H. Full of attitude.

* My efforts to learn HTML are coming along slowly but surely. So far I can change colors and make corrections. If I ever learn how to center on a line I'll consider myself a pro.
* Go Cubs! But what's the deal with the DL tradeoff? Maddux didn't have to injure himself just as Prior was coming off! At least the relievers have been getting enough rest that they've been able to do their jobs lately. (Thanks to Zambrano & Clement.)
* The 'ole local river looks like an actual river since it's been raining by the foot rather than the inch lately. The weather's been ferocious. Everyone (OK, nearly everyone) is ready for some calm skies and sunshine.
* It's June! Lots of new books coming out in June. The finale of the Slightly series. Ten Big Ones. Stephen King's new one, Song of Susannah, the 6th (?) of the Dark Tower series.
* Sunday's shopping trip may happen next Saturday, possibly to be combined with a raku pottery event in the G suburb.
* I've been thinking a lot about elephants today. They live a long time. They have tough skin. And they never forget.