Hair - 4 inches

Do you love my haircut?










Here, why don't you look at it in color?

Are my eyes usually this gi-normous?

Busy Weekend

My weekend was pretty busy; I was at home working the dance recital of the studio I attended for 18 years. It was good to see everybody, and to participate backstage in a routine I know so well. I miss being onstage a lot. I was sort of the mother hen of our group, since I was older than most of the girls, and now I've just been applying those skills to assisting the stage manager with all the needs during the show. For instance, we had one dance in which to "quick change" four girls from a tap costume to a jazz costume.
I also got to spend some time with my parents, though not a whole lot because I was running around so much during the day and at the theater at night. It was nice to sit down to a family meal with them on Sunday before I left, and to eat some dinner leftovers Friday night. My Mom is a great cook and I needed a little fattening up. My parents were amazed that I was drinking so much milk. In the few days I was home, I drank over a half gallon myself.
And now I'm back. I watched the US lose to Czech Republic in World Cup today, which was a shame. They weren't playing the fiery footie of which they are capable, that's for sure. Everyone says this is a great team this year, but they sure didn't look the way, say, the 1996 team did, with energy and panache. Those players had charisma. These guys probably do, too, but they weren't showing it. I'm hoping for better luck with Italy.
I also have to sew rather a lot this week in order to have my dress (or dresses...I need options) ready for my friends' wedding this upcoming weekend. I guess I better go home and do that.

American Girls

When I was young, I wanted desperately a Samantha doll from the American Girls collection. I saved up for her, and relatives sent me money for her at birthdays and Christmas. Then, I decided that if I was going to have the doll, I wanted all her stuff (over a thousand dollars worth), so I kept saving. Then, I decided that having the money was pretty great, too, and I never got the doll. Possibly some day I will still get Samantha...if I can get Nintendo 64 for nostalgia, a doll is not out of the question.
Today, I was perusing the American Girl catalog. They still have the historical dolls I remember, and the prices are pretty much the same. Much of the stuff has gone away, now that they have a lot more dolls, both historical and otherwise. They've had to balance the stuff with the variety of dolls. One of the cool things back in the day was that they had dresses you could wear to look like your Kirsten doll, or your Samantha doll. I always wanted Kirsten's prairie dresses and Samantha's birthday dress. Mostly they only have the nighties now, and other, less historical wear if you want to match your AG doll. But, oh lordy, have they added stuff. There are more historical dolls, for sure, but also dolls that look like you. They have one that looks like me, with light skin, brown hair, and blue eyes, but they also have a doll that has (get ready for it) light skin with freckles, blue eyes, and brown hair with HIGHLIGHTS! Highlights? Are you kidding? Sun-bleaching, natural style, I can understand, but these look dyed in. Are there eleven-year-old girls out there with dyed-in highlights? Why?
Not only that, but the pure abundance of whatnot you can get for your doll is crazy...Irish, African, or Native American dance costumes, ice skates, soccer uniforms, a whole schoolroom, canopy beds, three different horses, a brocade ballgown, fake lunch money (5 dollars! where do you go to school, American Girl?)...I thought it was pretty great when they had an accessory set for each historical doll for each book they wrote about her. Now, they've replaced that with hair salons and sleepover gear. I feel overwhelmed, but I also wonder about the state of imagination for kids today. I remember making caps and tents for My Little Ponies out of wallpaper samples and milk caps, thanks to my sister's craftiness. Do kids *make* stuff anymore? Certainly, this American Girl stuff is pretty amazing, but I have to ponder how much is too much.

Today I Ran....

TWO MILES. And then walked another mile.
I had a break of several days, there was grass being mown, my allergies are going nuts, but I ran two whole miles without stopping.
Who am I and what have I done with myself?

Don't need no lullaby

Today I am that unbelievable kind of drowsy where, no matter what I do or how many naps I take or how much fresh air I get, I can't wake up. My good buddy Michelle has come and gone from Colorado, dance recital is on the near horizon, at which I will help, but today I have just done absolutely nothing and I can't even care.

el futbol

Sabres lose, Tigers win, Pistons....well, we'll just wait and see.
But in other sports news, the World Cup is just around the corner.
Why do I love soccer? Here's a few reasons:

1. The boys are, on average, cuter than in any other sport, except perhaps baseball.
2. It's like hockey on grass; slower, maybe, but only because the field is huge.
3. When I was catsitting with my sister, we used to watch the 1994 World Cup on cable when we visited, since we didn't have it. We actually timed our visits to watch big US games. This was the first big year when there was a lot of fuss over the US team, and it was on US turf. I remember the People magazine article about it, with pictures of men like John Harkes, who is one of the most handsome men in the world. I had a crush on Claudio Reyna at the time. Ah, the 90s.
4. When I was in Italy, I went to a Fiorentina game with my friend Jelena, since a relative of hers, Pedja Mijatovic, was playing with the club at the time. Pedja had been a crazy-huge star in Spain and was still with the Yugoslavian team at the time also. I have one of his jerseys. The game was intensely crazy, even I started yelling "Vai! VAI!" (Go! GO!) and even though Fiorentina lost, it was hella fun to watch the players getting stripped by a mob of fans after the game. Those Italians love their pallone.

The only thing that no longer appeals to me so much about soccer is that the US team has a whole cadre of players who are younger than I am (10) or about my age (6). I've reached that point, friends, where pro athletes are younger than I am and, if they're my age, they better start looking over their shoulders.

A little hockey love.

Let me just give a couple of shout-outs here to Shawn Horcoff and Ryan Miller.
These former Spartans have really torn up the NHL, and I couldn't be more proud to have seen them on the ice many times in person.
Take Shawn: one year ahead of me. I had three years to watch him with season tickets at Munn Arena, though I actually watched him a few games the year before as well. And now? Best center in the west, according to Sports Illustrated, playing for the Oilers, where before him Anson Carter (now a Canuck) and Mike York (now an Islander) tread. He's called one of the best penalty killers, which certainly squares with a season when the Spartans had just as many shorthanded goals as they had power play goals...which was a lot. Yay for Shawn for being in the Stanley Cup finals, even if they did have to play the Wings to do it. Sing the fight song with Rem Murray for me, will you?
Now let's size up Ryan Miller, the shutout king for the Spartans. Many were confused when the Sabres started to play awesomely, but not me. They had Miller, and I'd seen him play. Certainly he struggled initially with pro play, but that's natural. I expected that, but knew greatness was in store. He was skinny, not untried. He bulked up, studied in the minors for a year, then came back to help the Sabres rip up the season and these playoffs. They've got a tough game 7 against Carolina coming up, but I feel pretty satisfied that one of my home-grown boys has been working for his team Spartan-style. He was part of the Spartan goaltending legacy, and has pushed that legacy to further glory.
And what happens if my guys go head to head for the Cup? Do I start cheering for the Oibres or the Salers? Everybody wins. It doesn't get any better than that.
Fight! Fight! Rah Team Fight! Victory for MSU!

Another post about running.

So, lately I've been jogging...regularly.
I'm trying to make this make sense. Consider:
When I was young, I was an awesome runner. I was faster than any girl in my class, and faster than most of the boys. In fact, I was the only girl who ran the fifty-yard playground dash during recess in elementary school that wasn't trying to get boys to like her and therefore intentionally losing. I could beat almost anyone in my class, except Mikey Bargey and Gordon Kiewiet, and on occasion Brian Boldizar or Jason McHenry. I wasn't good at such President's Physical Fitness Test events as "Steal the Bacon," but when it came to a straight track shot or a couple of laps, I was usually first.
Gradually things changed, and my friends Tracy Schmelzer and Ann Siegrist caught up with me, and later Sunshine Nelson, maybe one or two others. I was dancing a lot more, which changes your musculature, while they were playing basketball and softball. Still, I was pretty darn quick, and I remember in middle school when we'd go over to run on the high school track (which involved walking through the woods), and sometimes my sister's class would be out there. That's how I achieved the name "Flo Jo," after winning a particularly big race (I can't even remember what the heck it was, just that I won and then collapsed), and having her cheer for me, which ruled.
In seventh grade I ran track officially, hurdles, which was pretty great. I was trying to get out of distance running at that point, because it made me queasy, and while I wasn't a particularly great hurdle runner, I was more flexible than most of the girls who hadn't done that sort of thing before. Basically, I was the best beginner we had. I ran 60s and 100s, but did better at 100s because I could get up more speed between the hurdles. I have a picture of me flying over a hurdle, actually...it was during my awkward stage, so I won't be showing you unless I'm tipsy. My best friend Ann ran 60s with me, and we often went 1-2 in a race, me at #2, but I won quite a few 100 races, too, or at least came in first out of our runners. I hated running hurdle relays, though...I didn't like being dependent on others' performances.
One big track meet we needed another 4X400 runner, and I got tapped. I was coordinated with a baton, and I remember very clearly that I had a lot of ground to make up on my lap. We actually came in 8th, which was good enough for a medal. After that race, my coach tried to make me a permanent 400 runner, but I actually refused. The season was almost over, I was beginning to hate the queasiness from running a distance, and I wanted to dance more. So, by eighth grade, track was out. It wasn't good for my dance muscles, and I knew my Mom didn't like watching me on hurdles. She'd seen me wipe out a few times in practice.
I still had to run in gym, though, and I plunged on through the required 1-mile and 2-mile races, along with others. I can honestly say I only missed track once or twice, while watching others run hurdles in practices. I was too busy with dance, piano, and other projects, and I sure didn't miss feeling sick...I mean, if you're going to be so overheated and tired you're nauseous, you might as well be wearing a tutu, right?
But I was a bit harassed by Mr. Greider, who was coaching cross country at the time. He wanted me to go out for cross, and I probably would have been good at it, but I resisted. It felt nice to be pursued for cross, but there was no way I was going to run that much. I remember once I had a past dance injury bothering me; I didn't realize I was limping at all until he pointed it out. I think at that point I made some explanation about dance and I remember he didn't bother me much after that. I'd made my choice and was obviously dedicated to it.
After 9th grade gym I didn't run much, and I was dancing intensely for hours every week, so I sure as heck didn't miss it. When I pulled my hamstring (dancing) after college I was in physical therapy, which involved a treadmill once in a while, and here at grad school when I was really angry I ran around town, sometimes throwing a sprint in for good measure, but that's about it. I love walking, and hiking, and have done a lot, but running...well, that was pretty much out of the picture.
Until this last couple of weeks. For some reason, I started jogging once a week, then every few days, then every other day. Last week I ran four times. What the heck is going on? I'm not dancing much now, but I do make sure to stretch properly before and after so as not to damage those muscles; I have plans for dancing later this summer. But why running now? What's changed?
I know I've had an aggravating year; in fact, I just got back some poor semester evaluations, in my opinion, and I know part of this is running out the frustration. I also know my sister can now run over two miles comfortably, which I haven't been able to do in years, and I'm jealous. The weird part is that, while I'm quick, the only reason I was really good at running was competition. I wanted to beat other people, and in independent racing, it was easy to measure myself against others. But I'm not competing against anyone now. I know my cardio system has been in a slump and needs to improve. I know I've been feeling sluggish and wanted to make sure I got exercise. I also know I have exercise and allergy asthma, and running isn't really the best for that (especially outside; I hate running indoors). But I also know that I'm terribly bored.
I can't explain why I am suddenly obsessed with running. Well, not obsessed, but returning to the fold. It's confusing, but at the same time weirdly satisfying. So if you see me, browned and lean, in short shorts, just think of a little girl running like a cheetah across the blacktop, beating all the boys. She's probably wearing a dress, or barefoot, and if you blow the whistle, she will just keep running.

The Fifth Position

So, has anyone else ever wanted a fifth position for sleeping? I mean, there's left side, right side, back, and stomach, and pretty much everything else is some variation. Even sleeping with your butt in the air is a variation of being on your stomach.
So, these last few late nights when I've been tossing through the four positions (no butt in the air...my knee bursitis is a little much for that), I've been really wanting some other option. I almost actually slept with my head at the foot of the bed instead just for some alternative. Weird.

Meanwhile, church is an hour earlier now, and I remembered but lots of other people didn't. It was a nice service for the first summer one; special music by a lady who sang and played an old Quaker hymn, and we seemed to sing extra, too, with an extra hymn, which I am all about. I do loves me my singin'!

Mystery Solved

So the mystery of the creepy phone messages about an important customer issue is marginally solved.
Today, it was a different message, though I'm pretty sure the number to call was the same; but the message was preceded by "Michael Dunham," did not involve a teenaged voice saying, "Again, I repe-eat," and actually included a case reference number along with the phone number. Thus, the calls are for someone who evidently used to have my phone number. I've gotten calls for this Michael Dunham before from businesses, and once for a particularly human sounding message I called them back to tell them they're barking up the wrong tree. It's only a matter of time before I call back this time and beg them to quit hounding my phone.

Whoah....what?

Read this, from CNN:
"Barnes' mother, Mary, told The Associated Press her son has battled mental illness.

'He's been suffering with depression for years,' she said, her voice shaking after being told by a reporter what happened. 'Lord have mercy.'"

Told by a reporter? What? In what crazy world should media reporters be allowed to tell parents their son ran over people at McDonald's? And then have their immediate reaction and words be spread out in the headlines?

I Dream of...the Candyman?

I'm in a stretch of crazy dreams again. Last night was kind of scary.
Basically, I (along with a group of friends) was being chased by a cross between the Mothman from the Mothman Prophecies (or the Creeper from Jeepers Creepers; can't decide) and the Candyman. Basically it was the Candyman with wings. I don't remember very much of the dream except for a very clear picture of me looking up to some pedestal or tower and Tony Todd's face blazing in the night down at us. We thought we could make it if we ran. We were wrong.
I do remember that at that point after the face, I faded out and then faded back in, I think for the running scene. Sometimes my dreams are alarmingly cinematic.
Anyway: Guy friend at the back of the group, whoever you were, I'm sorry.
I haven't seen any of these movies in a while, and I'm not sure where this came from. I did watch the final three episodes of Charmed on tape before I went to bed, but nothing that dramatically scary went on, at least not involving creatures.
I will miss Charmed. I can't believe it is over, but I'm glad they gave me a solid happy ending, even if the last episode was unbelievably confusing. Whenever time travel gets involved...well, I'm going to have to watch it again. It was great, and I'm thinking I might accumulate the dvds of the series. There aren't too many series that successfully pair magic and girl power, and I need more of that in my life.
Also of note was this week's two-hour episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition which made me cry not just for the last twenty minutes, but through nearly the whole darn two hours. I've decided to blame hormones.

Doo Doo Doo, Do-Doo Do-Doo

So, I was unlucky in locating a business to rent me a game system. So, I bought one.
I know what you're thinking, but hear me out: It was 15 dollars. I got a used Nintendo-64. Now, I know this is not the best Nintendo game system, and I know it may not even be the best old school system, which is what I wanted. But it was cheap and the guy at 2-Play sold me his own personal copy of Zelda because it didn't need the expansion pack like the two the store had, and I bought Mario, too. I think that's all pretty great, and is equally capable of turning me into a total zombie.
When I was a kid, we didn't have Nintendo. We had a couple of PCs, an Atari and a self-built machine, and on those we played our fair share of Blue Max (flight simulator), Pac-Man and Ms. Pac-Man, all the Carmen Sandiegos we could get our hands on, and then when the internet hit, we played MUDs (Multi-User Dimensions) and such. That's all great, but when I went to my friend Season's, I always wanted to play Zelda on her Nintendo (I mastered Duck Hunt, but wasn't so great at Mario). When I went to my friend Katie's, we played Wheel of Fortune ALL the time. So now that I am a Nintendo owner, I feel like my childhood is complete. I can now participate with the rest of society on the same level.
Okay, that's not true. I felt a little superior because our family had real computers and played games that no one else had, or games that made us smart. But a little part of me always wanted Nintendo like the other kids.
And now, let me just say this: Super Mario Bros in 3-D makes me just a little bit dizzy. I spent two hours losing at level one, but just trying to get oriented in that space with all the view angles and such under control. I don't even fully comprehend the buttons yet, and being able to move in more than four directions. I've tried to play it simple a lot, but that isn't always working since you need to see stuff to get stuff. It's the opposite of MUDs where you are wholly reliant on descriptions to "see." With this jazz, you have to actually look.
So, if my eyes look a little bloodshot next time you see me, you'll know what I've been up to.

In Which She Is Freezing Her Fingers Off

My office is so cold! I don't know why I'm here when I'm so cold!
I'm trying to decide whether this is better or worse than the fever I was running Thursday-Friday. Is this like the age-old burn or freeze to death question?
It's been a fake-busy week, meaning I've done a lot, but very little was at all productive for the world.
Take TV for example. Tuesday's episode of House was good enough, but I wish the shows I watch would stop involving vomit on such a regular basis. I actually liked the re-run on last night on USA better, but it too involved throwing up. Only for you, Hugh Laurie, will I tolerate this.
Wednesday's TV was also engrossing. ANTM says goodbye to Sara, which is okay, I guess. I don't agree with questioning the girl's commitment to the process...remember, as a discovery from a mall, she has further to come in terms of her understanding. However, her copying of poses sort of turned me off her. Jade...well, I'm tired of Jade. I respect that she's older than the other girls, but her behavior is the poorest. I wonder if she's going to be the Stephen...see below. I do like the looks of the finale's runway. It looks absolutely beyond gorgeous...wickedly difficult, but like a dream.
Back to Stephen. As I watched the Top Chef reunion show, I was gratified and warmed to watch Stephen's demeanor, even when he wasn't speaking, and his apology to Candice. I think of all the TC characters, Stephen grew the most, or made the most profound personal discoveries in watching himself on TV. I was genuinely glad for him and loved watching him giggle while watching the tapes (Jade, pay attention). The TC reunion was not a little disturbing, but I stand by my feeling since a few weeks ago: Harold. Harold, despite some misses attitude and serve-nervewise, should win. Tiffani is a great chef. Dave is a charismatic person. Harold should win.
Ghosthunters was largely uneventful this week, and Supernatural was nonexistent since the finale was last week. Jared and Jensen, how I missed you. While watching a TV Guide channel supernatural shows special, I learned that Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles (who is eight months older than me) look at websites or message boards about themselves. So, guys, if you're watching, I heart you both, as the kids say, and can't wait until you're both conscious again...and if you're shirtless, so be it.
About the season finale of Gilmore Girls, I can't talk about it yet. Many's the time I would feel the same way after a season of X-Files. Suspense and I...well, we get along on a short-term basis, but long-term tests my patience.
I think that's enough. My fingers aren't typing so well...freezing and a week of knitting and guitar playing have sort of done them in. Enjoy the rain, everyone.

Party Central

I've been to a lot of parties lately. Good times were had by all. Here is documented photo evidence:

The ladies I know really understand how to put a shower together. Here is a picture of the spread.




Here, Lisa promises to love, honor, and obey Carrie. See that veil? I made it.




Lisa's friend, who shall remain nameless to protect her genius, impressed us all by tackling Mensa sudoku.






On a wholly different day, different for many reasons, Mike practices for his incoming little one. Not in photo: Karen's look of concern.

Creepy Phone Messages

I think I may be the target of a phone scam. I've gotten some three or four calls from this one place; the message does not identify any company but asks me to call a 1-800 number about "an important customer matter." The kicker is when it says to use the reference number to follow, but instead of giving a number it beeps back into the beginning of the message with a really crazy "Again, I repeat" or something like that, said in an exasperated teenaged voice that makes all words have three times as many syllables as they should. I can almost see the rolling eyes. Do they think that's businesslike in any way? Even if it was legitimate I wouldn't want to call back. Weird.

I am a zombie.

Wow, so it has been a whole week since I blogged here. Sorry about that.

So last night was a CRAZY TV night. It was all suspense all the time. I had to eat an ice cream sandwich to stay calm.
I started with a little warm-up action with the Simpsons, just to get my funnies in, and then watched a re-run of the Ghosthunters I've never seen before at 7. Then, at 8 o'clock, it was all on.
I confess that I taped America's Next Top Model. I'm not sure how much of it I'll watch, but it definitely lost out in the immediate need to watch House on a special night from the two-parter, in which Dr. Foreman has a mysterious disease and Dr. House breaks all kinds of rules to save him. I do love Hugh Laurie, as I've previously made clear here, and there was some pretty good RSL (Robert Sean Leonard, to those of you who didn't have a huge crush on him in high school) action thrown in there, too. Good times. Looking forward to next week's episode when we find out if Foreman's right/left disorientation is permanent.
Then, it was time for a new episode of Ghosthunters that seriously made me jump and made my heart race. I can never really tell about that show...they usually go in with the mindset of debunking, but then you always wonder, when something does happen, are you being played? But the footage they showed was pretty awesome, it gave me chills, and I'm just going to throw out to Paul that you should probably not watch this episode by yourself in the dark. (And thanks, Paul and Carrie, who helped me out bigtime by loaning me a tape with Supernatural on it from last week, since I inexplicably forgot to watch it. It was, as they said, a doozy.) So--the night is ruling at this point.
Then, we headed into Top Chef, the show that determines the final three. The results were not all that surprising, as it was a similar situation to Project Runway with several strong contenders. I know a few of the chefs (and one of the judges, and maybe me) were a little disappointed in the results, but I still think these finals in Vegas are going to rock. I did feel sorry in a big way for Harold, who was ill during proceedings but managed to kick out a superb dish. Lee Anne, you will be missed.
Mmm. Delicious TV goodness. Now I have an episode of ANTM to watch, and Sunday's Charmed, a show which is alas winding down, and tonight's season finale craziness of Supernatural. AAAA!
In other news, on the rental of a video game system front, no luck. I might check with a place downtown, but I'm starting to lose hope of a weeklong game fest in which to further my zombiehood. I don't want to buy a system, because I really don't have time for that degree of goofing off, but I just want to play Zelda on a near-continuous basis for a while.

New Kicks

OK, so I bought rather a lot of new shoes this weekend. Here are pictures of three pairs that I bought (the others were a pair of slippers, some pink sparkly flats, and a pair of thong sandals). And if you're wondering whether it's hard to take pictures of shoes in my little apartment with very little floor space, and not-so-great photo lighting, the answer is yes.
The baby blue heels have a line of blue stones down the t-strap, by the way. In case you needed to think they're any more awesome.
I have pretty nice legs, but I do wish they weren't quite so white. I'm becoming more Irish by the second.

Bag Lady

This weekend, I admit it, I got a little carried away with the shopping. I've behaved myself reasonably since Chicago, so I guess I was maybe due, and I finally found some spring/summer clothes and shoes I actually like. I also got an outrageous backache; I haven't worked retail in a while, and I'd forgotten how exhausting it is to walk around a store all day.
I also had the saddest little experience at Kohl's (that's right, my Kohl's virginity has ended). I was looking at clearance shoes and found a cute pair of brown tennis shoes like my black ones, but with a muted stripe. They were pretty kicky, and I tried on the 7s, knowing they wouldn't fit my longer left foot. I hunted the whole section and found one size 6 shoe and one 7.5 That's right, one 7.5...it fit my left foot exactly. I walked around with that shoe for about twenty minutes looking in the whole department for its mate. I never found it. I was so sad to abandon that shoe, not just for myself because I liked it, but because what a lonely existence that is; one shoe, supposed to be a pair and not. The lady who was working sort of glanced around, but seemed utterly engrossed in whatever she was doing and sure as heck didn't volunteer to help me.
I'm hoping on that shoe's behalf that its mate is just back in the stock room somewhere and that it will be found soon by a more conscientious soul. In any case, its status as a lonely and, therefore, somewhat purposeless object cut me kind of deep.
To make myself feel better, I bought a Kitchen 101 Breakfast set at Linens n' Things. It comes with a cast iron griddle, egg poacher, egg rings, and various other breakfast tools. I'm sort of thrilled about it.

"How could she be such a cipher?"

I just wrote a bit in my myspace blog about the book Mirror Mirror by Gregory Maguire. It is by far, so far, my favorite in his set. It's reaching me in odd ways with the language and through Biana, the girl chracter. I have a lot of page corners turned down of things I want to go back over and ponder. The most recent of these is about Lucrezia Borgia's shock in seeing Bianca in the magic mirror and trying to define her expression, and why it bothered her so: "Or perhaps it was that she seemed like one who didn't worry about what it meant never to be enough" (190). The quote in the title is from Bianca's own musings, page 160. These two characters are fascinating in the relationship created, and their growth and change in mentality happening alongside each other.
This book is knocking me on my butt. I haven't been emotionally and mentally touched by a book for a while (more time than is proper for someone who is interested in literature, anyway), and so I'm really grateful that I now have the time this weekend to puzzle my way through it and take my time finishing it. It's actually so good that I wish I weren't quite so far through it. I only have about seventy pages left.
I don't feel well today. My hip is getting better, I think, but my neck and back ache and my throat is scratchy. I am hoping it's just allergies getting out of hand and that I'm not bound for anything worse. I'm going to try to sleep a lot this weekend to knock it out of me.

Plague

Creepy news of the day:
Disease finally diagnosed on House (after a particularly disgusting and disturbing list of tests, which should have merited a parental discretion warning) last night? Bubonic plague.
Disease found in woman in LA? Bubonic plague.

I Broke Myself

I went jogging on Sunday, and yesterday kept getting sharp pain in my hip. By the end of the day, as I was riding home in the car, I could feel my hip throbbing in a most unpleasant fashion. It seems better today, but still goes wonky when I'm walking.
In an effort to make it feel more happy, I took a bath with this:
Bunny I Washed the Kids
which was lovely and made me smell like candy.

Recently, though, I had the most amazing bath with the Ginger Bomb, and the Something Wicked This Way Comes, which in my version was purplish with glitter. I was a little skeptical of the Ginger scent at first, before it hit the bath, but I really like it, and it suited me. These two products together combine ginger, jasmine, some other flower scents, and moisturizing power, which my skin desperately needs. It was delicious.

In other news, I intend to buy this dress as soon as possible, and I am mildly obsessed with Sarah Harmer, namely the You Were Here album, which I also intend to buy as soon as possible.

Monday Mash

Before I begin, let me just thank those who reported the time of last week's thunderstorm. 6:30 ish am sounds about right for me to be delirious with sleep but able to be tensely awakened.
So today I woke up and said, darn it, I am going to have a decent day if it kills me. Then I locked my keys in my house.
It's okay, though, my landlady is nice and came out right away to help me out. It was just sort of a d'oh! moment that passed. The good news is, Chily's had tomato soup with tortellini, which is pretty much the best soup, and I have no conferences today. In a little bit I'm actually going to do some work so that I have less to do tonight after teaching. Or, maybe I'll work on some poetry stuff, just for a break. Wouldn't that be exciting?
Easter has come and gone; I had a lovely Easter basket from the Easter bunny, and I went to church here in BG and heard the Hallelujah Chorus. In fact, I have it on my media player, and I might listen to it again for kicks. It was kind of a lonely day, but really it's my own fault for not going home. Holidays are really designed around us spending time with others, but in some ways solitude is the way to think about what the holiday actually is, especially Easter because basically it and Christmas are the foundation of the Christian faith.
Anyway. I'm kind of confused lately. I feel like I'm spinning my wheels, and maybe trying too hard to find a direction. I don't know what's going on with me. I can't seem to settle to anything, and it's sort of like the mean reds are back. I can't remember what I like. Or what I think I like doesn't seem to be working. The last really great things I remember are getting a strawberry milkshake with my friend Pat, at Tasty Twist in East Lansing, and going to LUSH in Chicago. That was kind of a while ago. Probably some other good stuff has happened, but I've been so distracted I have no idea.
I have a couple of wee plans to help out; for instance, the sandals I wore to church on Sunday are actually broken, so I need to get some new shoes (in addition to the springy ones I want to buy when I find them). I also discovered a truly delicious coffee ice cream drink at Smoovies downtown, and plan to get some more of that as soon as possible. Hopefully the sunshine will sort of whack me out of this, too, and your little Avacious will perk up a bit. I feel like the straggly plants on my porch; overextended, frostbitten, and all over the place.
On a related note, I am sunburnt. I went to BG baseball games this weekend, and Saturday was quite warm and sunny. I had SPF on my face, but my neck and the backs of my arms, and also some obscure place on my leg, are a little rosy. Ah, April. The month whose sun I forget, and therefore the sun that gets me the most.

78 degrees and counting

Today, I am wearing my bright yellow Madagascar soccer '86 T-shirt. I also am wearing my Keen amphibious sneakers, no socks.
What this means: Nearly 80 degrees today, and I am living the dream.
I also learned today that I am afraid of storms even when asleep. I woke up this morning to a thunderstorm, and was sweating. Somehow, I prevented myself from waking up fully, because I only have a complete memory of some thunder and a few lightning flashes, and nothing that I was thinking at that time. I have no idea what time it was.
It's 2 pm and I can't wait until conferences are over for the day so I can go play out by the pond for a little bit.

I don't think I am doing my tv report this week, at least not at length. I didn't watch all of ANTM, just the last bit, and Ghosthunters and Top Chef were both sort of just there. Gilmore Girls on Tuesday was fun, but the previews are deceptive. I recorded Supernatural last night and haven't watched it yet. Basically, all is tension in me and TV isn't doing its job.

Chimps will rule the world.

Happy Birthday, Cheeta, star of Tarzan films. Your longevity as a primate at age 74 is an inspiration to us all.

Quickies

If you're wondering whether I just ate a piece of cold fried chicken, the answer is yes. It's sunny (sort of) and warm, and darn it, it's cold fried chicken weather.

If you're further wondering whether I'm doing my taxes tonight, the answer is also yes.

In addition, if you're wondering whether I had an argument with Freud in my head that his theory is bunk, and that the impulse of life is not sex but death, and no, they're not related, they are nearly opposites, in that sex is striving for ascension without death, despite what the French say, but that development involves a growing consciousness of self, of life away from and then back toward death, and thus our growing understanding of death shapes our behavior more irrevocably than something that we *could* avoid, such as sex, and that, really, it is ethically inappropriate to devise a theory from which you are mysteriously immune or "enlightened" and that the social pariah that is womanhood gets the short end of the stick, then that answer, surprise surprise, is also yes. In the shower.

Mix tapes, how I love thee.

In an effort to rekindle some attitude, ie. something I can use to kick ass in the next three weeks rather than feeling down in the dumps, I have rediscovered the mix tapes of my high school life, and a bit of college, taped from the radio and used in various dance and angst-related settings. These were times when, no matter how crappy everything was, I never gave up and I never wilted for longer than a week. I pretty much rocked everything I had to do, and I had recognized escapes that would make me feel better or at least get me out of harm's way (like the dance studio, or the extra garage my parents have). It's not like I had less emotion then, but I had more ways to get out of it and enough that I wanted to do that I always had a way to distract myself.
Some songs I have rediscovered via these mix tapes (which are lettered and which, somewhere, have lists of their contents corresponding to these letters...obsessive much?):

Nine Inch Nails "The Perfect Drug" ("...I see the truth, when I'm all stupid-eyed. The arrow goes straight to my heart...without you, everything just falls apart." How awesome is that for angst-ridden youth?)
Poe "Angry Johnny" and "Hello" (an album which I will be buying, today if possible)
Squirrel Nut Zippers "Hell"
dance mix of Soul Coughing "Super Bon Bon" (which makes much more sense at dance speed)
Garbage "Stupid Girl"
Salt n' Pepa w/ En Vogue "Whatta Man"

...and so many more.
I took mix tapes very seriously, like anyone else would, but unlike my peers I jumped on the CD bandwagon pretty late, so I have more recent songs than most people on their tapes. Fortunately, my car and my apartment have tape players. I am remembering so much of my past more accuately than I usually do (which is usually accute enough, actually).
It's occured to me often that my big thing is memory. I have an obsessive memory and my mind works very hard to commit things to memory, which is very exhausting. I forget stuff, but events, conversations, and people I know stay incredibly fresh in my brain. The emotional resonance of things, especially bad stuff, stays fresh longer than most people. That's why I heart Deanna Troi on Star Trek. I'm not really empathic, I suppose, but I feel her pain. I understand, even if I don't know exactly, what it's like to be surrounded by so much of people's emotional energy. Sometimes it makes it hard to deal with your own.
Anyway...all this from mix tapes. I love 'em.

In other news, I'm tired, and I have a giant load of grading to do. I am compensating by making plans for myself when the work is done, or for my little breaks between piles (aside from doing my taxes, of course). I plan to rent a video game system and spend at least three days playing some version of Zelda. I plan to work on my children's book. I plan to work on my modeling skills for no other reason but fun. I also am planning the layout and furniture of my "extra" apartment/office for next year. I'm not eager for that year to arrive, because I need to do some serious chilling out before then, but sometimes the planning is more fun than the having anyway.
OK, that's all. I'm giving Meijer a second chance on Dr. Pepper...Angel's fridge is looking a little bare.

Color me disgusted

Oh, please, ANTM.
Point the first: Ridiculous "shocking collapse" ad last week for this week's Top Model. I do not agree with misleading advertisement or previews based on trickery. I did not appreciate that at all.
Point the second: Stupid pranks like that are how people get hurt. You can claim "it was a joke" and give people t-shirts all you want, Miss Tyra Banks, but D minus on empathy. Thank goodness poor Furonda came back and rocked the week's activities, because that was just a cruel, stupid joke. Poor form.
To summarize, I did not enjoy this week's ANTM, and getting rid of Mollie Sue made me ANGRY. She has been my favorite because I feel like I can relate to her, and now I got nothing.

Didn't watch much of Lost. Watched Ghosthunters instead (it's not too scary this week, Paul), and then Top Chef. I was sad to see Lisa go, but not at all sad to see Tiffani and Dave win. They did a great job selling, and their sandwich looked really delicious. I liked Harold's integrity and sadness at Lisa's departure. Also loved the junk food challenge between Dave and Miguel.

Supernatural is on tonight...I know I shouldn't be watching this much TV, I really do. But my brain has been so busy and worried and overworked this last month or two, and I've just had it. I can make it, I know I can, but there's so much to be done before I get to summer, but summer always means goodbyes, and I hate that, too. I feel, like Bilbo, like butter spread over too much bread. So if I suddenly snarl and turn into an ogre...sorry.

First House-Related Post Ever

So, a little-known fact about me grading is that, as I get to the bottom of the pile, it becomes harder and harder to finish, because I know I have a giant pile of other papers to do that I'll have to begin as soon as that pile is done.
So, I watch TV.
Last night, after Gilmore Girls, House was on, and, while I do not often watch this show, I do enjoy it a great deal, and really should watch it more. Who can resist Hugh Laurie, the bumbling Bertie Wooster of, for me,Wodehouse-on-PBS fame, as a cantakerous doctor who will do what he needs to do to find the answer and be right, no matter what the cost, speaking with a better American accent than I do? I, for one, also cannot resist his friendship with the dreamy Robert Sean Leonard. He was lovely in Dead Poet's Society, Swing Kids, and Much Ado About Nothing, but I actually adore him as a more stoic divorced man in his late thirties.
Favorite line of the evening? Dr. House saying, "Oh, snap!" Utterly ridiculous, and therefore, hilarious.
Tonight, big TV lineup...ANTM, Ghosthunters, Lost, Top Chef, John Edward. It's going to be a hot one.

Hittin' the Sauce

I love applesauce; natural style, no cinnamon. Just applesauce. It's making my lunch delicious.
Yes, today my mood is quietly better. There's food in the house, and clean laundry, which has yet to be put away, but which is there nonetheless. There is simply nothing better. I don't think people realize how demoralizing it is to eat junk on the go, or to have to forage in one's own cupboards for nutrients, or in one's sock drawer for something to cover chilly feet. But when you have fresh food, it makes all the difference. You feel like a real person, someone worthy of the world, and grateful for being able to just eat what God puts down here. That's not a support for organics, just a support for produce in general.
Last night, for a late dinner, I had:
Milk, and a sort of Mediterranean devotional plate. It had grapes; olives; cherry tomatoes; Italian bread with honey, drizzled olive oil, fresh basil, and cracked black pepper (It's good. I know it sounds weird); and fresh, soft hunks of mozzarella, Italian style. So utterly delicious, and it was amazing to have milk in the house again. I had two full glasses, the first with dinner and the second with dessert, which was a few pieces of a chocolate bar with ginger pieces stuck in.
I feel like a human being.

Oh...and in case you were wondering what *that* much LUSH stuff looks like:

I Heart Church Music

Ordinarily I don't respond well to contemporary Christian music; it's like some poetry that is probably good poetry but just has no resonance for me. There's no rhyme or reason to this response, I just don't seem to get into it. Much like romantic comedies.
Today, though, was an exception...the offertory was a father and son with guitars, singing "Nothing But the Blood." It didn't capture me at first, but then they started a really beautiful harmony section, and they were both really getting into it with the guitars and the singing, especially the son (couldn't really see the father from where I was sitting). It brought tears to my eyes, because they were both showing a neat devotion at both the music and religious level. I came away from it really happy I'd heard the song.

Cosmic joke

weird-out #1: Meijer out of Dr. Pepper
weird-out #2: "Out of the Blue" playing on Meijer radio while I am in tears without my soda
that is all.

Some bits of TV junk

I was forcibly reminded last night how much Gwyneth Paltrow looks like her mother, Blythe Danner. It was a little scary, actually. I was watching M*A*S*H and Danner was in that episode, and while she has some different mannerisms--a slightly nervous way of holding and shaking her head, a difference of her vocal delivery--the two look nearly identical. Their faces are so similar. I never noticed before, actually, only familiar with how Danner looks now in such things as the X-Files. She has a lovely natural look to her, but it's still quite different. But then, when they were the same age...frightening.
I was watching Cross Country with John Edward, and there was a mother there hearing from her son. Her eyes were utterly amazing. They were the most vivid blue, and while she had them outlined, her lashes seemed naturally dark. When she was crying, I had to cry, too. The eyes were so young and so hurt.

In the Street

The issue of Paper Street that I'm in came today. In it is a poem I care a lot about, a poem I was unsure of for a while but grew to love. I'm getting to that point where I have a nice little section of magazines that I'm in, and I need to set them aside so I can pull one out when I feel like a sham.
Just went for a walk, and my face is stinging from the wind and fresh sun. I miss summer. My skin misses the heat of it. Sadly, it seems storms are rolling in.
Steve has gone a little...pink, but here's my version of his meme anyway.

1. What were you doing 10 years ago?
Enjoying coffee shop runs with my friend Amber, in her pretty blue Prizm.

2. What were you doing 5 years ago?
I was getting ready to come here for grad school, having just been in the American College Dance Festival, and trying to learn to write poems pretty darn quick.

3. What were you doing 1 year ago?
Spending too much time in Beckett's.

4. Five snacks you enjoy:
Animal crackers, Cheez-Its, Cheerios with peanut butter, Sprees, Cheese

5. Five songs you know by heart but wish you didn't:
Stop/Spice Girls, Open Arms/Mariah Carey style, Who Let the Dogs Out/Baha Men, Macarena/Los del Rio (okay, I've probably forgotten this, but I used to know the whole thing), I'll Be There for You/Rembrandts

6. Five things you would do with a LOT of money:
Quit teaching full-time and write poems; buy my parents a new washing machine, a new boat, and a new dining room table, and finish their master bedroom; send my sister and brother-in-law to Paris, open a ginormous savings account in the safest bank I can find; become eccentric

7. Five things you would never wear:
shoulder pads, Hammer pants, big bangs, uber-pointy-toed high heels, this

8. Five things you should never have worn:
pegged pants, the same style glasses for seven years, stretch pants, bike shorts with neon sides, leotards in elementary school

9. Five things you enjoy doing:
dancing en pointe, taking walks in the sunshine, climbing trees, helping people with random tasks (like helping them get frisbees out of trees), making clothes for me

10. Five bad habits:
biting my nails, watching TV while grading essays, tossing clothes in heaps, obsessing about things I can't fix right now, not doing dishes right away

Bravo...the TV station that cares...

...about my mental health.
I was reading the blogs for Top Chef this week, and there was an apologetic blurb at the end from Bravo about the grammar and typo errors in the blogs; something about the program they're using loses characters and punctuation. I buy that for the characters, but not so much for the punctuation/syntax. Consider Tim Gunn, same channel, whose blog did have the character problem, but had reasonably clean syntax. A fragment is a fragment, and spelling a name wrong is still poor spelling, but I appreciate the gesture of apology. Evidently I'm not the only anal, eagle-eyed Bravo blog reader.
In other news, my back hurts, I have a lot of papers to grade, and I have to get groceries and do laundry. Nevertheless, I watched TV last night (while I was grading, of course). I put on my pretty new Vicky Secret babydoll nightie, with blue sky and cloud print, snuggled up with a blankie, and watched ANTM, bits of Lost and last week's Top Chef, the new Ghosthunters, and the new Top Chef. I did not watch The Evidence, because by that time I was so tired of channel flipping I needed to just settle.
ANTM was fairly normal; some drama, but I didn't grow to dislike or like anyone more. The photo shoots, one for a Sears and one editorial shoot, were interesting enough, not super exciting but just interesting.
Ghosthunters was spooky and delicious. Don't tell Paul.
Last week's Top Chef...I didn't watch that much of it, actually. This week's was exciting, and I decided that I'm on the outs with Harold, and am even more on the outs with Stephen than I was. Come on...you're cooking for humans with lives. It's nice to have people come to a restaurant, but if the only place you can cook is in that restaurant, or in what Tom Colicchio calls a controlled environment, you're not much of a chef. I like a versatile chef, not a specialist. (And Bravo, Tom, for bitching out the snobs last week.) Snubbing the microwave is a dangerous game indeed, and I love that Bravo showed that moment of one of the working-mother-judge's faces when Stephen was asking if they'd heard of plantains. Come on. These people have gone grocery shopping for 15-20 years. They have eyes. This lady rolled hers beautifully. Harold, boo to your microwave snobbery, but Bravo to finally embracing the challenge and opening up a bit. Stephen, you're 24, and already you have the snobbery of four people squirming around inside you. It's an amazing feat and I hope it gets you fired a lot. Sugar will catch more flies than your sourpuss (have you considered acting?)
And this is why I don't know if I could ever date or marry a chef. I like to cook, but if that person is going to turn his nose up at anything I make, my comfy squash casserole for instance, then I want no part of it. Chefs make me nervous. But, Abs, wouldn't you love it if that chef would cook for you all the time? No. Frankly, I'm not a fan of eating in restaurants that make me intimidated by the food, and I wouldn't want to eat that kind of stuff all the time. Squash casserole, with Campbell's cream of chicken, sour cream, and stuffing cubes, rules.
And can I just add that I'm sad Lee Anne and Tiffani got into it a couple of weeks ago? That was my dynamic duo. They both can be snotty, and I've lost respect for them both, but they're still my favorites.
If there's one thing I'm learning from this show, and wish the contestants would learn, it's that you absolutely have to respect and appreciate every single client that comes near you. You don't need to "work" them all, but you need to be nice, assess their needs fairly, and treat them empathetically. I think that's what I hate about the top chef system, actually. Certainly, the culinary world involves a lot of art, but it's art that has to be taken into the body and soul, that has to nourish, and if you can't be a nourishing person, then that art will never belong to you, nor you to it.

"Dream come true...I never thought..."

So, who out there left a recording of Debbie Gibson's "Out of the Blue" on my answering machine? Come on. 'Fess up.
And are you aware that I have that tape in my car?
Hmm...maybe my car is calling me secretly. Maybe it missed me yesterday.
What's extra funny...or creepy...was that I heard that (circa 1987) and then watched Pee Wee's Big Adventure on Bravo (1985). I had this incredible urge to put on some legwarmers, crimp my hair, and apply bright blue eyeshadow all over my lid. Strawberry lip gloss, anyone?

Dumb news item of the day:

Why do people say silly things?
From CNN.com:
"But Robert Lang, director of the Metropolitan Institute at Virginia Tech, which tracks urban growth trends, scoffed at the notion that mansionization means a loss of community.
'All the research shows that sense of community is not driven by the design of the structure but by demographics,' he said. 'It's all fallen away since the inventions of telecommunications and the automobile.'"

Are you kidding me? Are you seriously suggesting that we've come so far that structure is not *determined by* demographics? That income is homogenized? Community *is* determined by demographics, but how on earth can you divorce structure from community, as inextricably linked as it is to demographics?
Boo!

addendum

I *did* get a Bathos bubble bar, bringing that total to four, and rather than getting Softy *or* Chelsea Garden bath bombs, I got them both, bringing that total to nine.
That is all.

What I Did on My Chicago Vacation

P.S. The "Cool Pool" has some sort of crazy mushroom-shaped waterfall in it and a crab toy.
And now, a photo journal of some of my trip:

I presented in Parlor E, 6th Floor

I enjoyed the abundance of the LUSH window before I went inside. Inside, I took a sneaky picture of the same wall. I will not post it here.

The Shedd Aquarium is a mighty fine sight.










Teeny-weeny yellow frogs!


Scary underwater anaconda shot. This thing is massive. Seriously, in its thickest part it is thicker than me, I think. There was only a little bit of it out of water, so I had to work hard for this shot on the far side of its pool.


Pretty, frilly lion fish, just hanging out.













This shark was obsessed with showing his white, white belly.
He's in the awesome Wild Reef, with a ton of other sharks that were harder to capture.


Cute dolphins; they line up like little torpedos after their show. I tried to get a picture of them all in the air and failed miserably. There are actually five, but I only got four here.


Sweetest Beluga Whale ever. He was sitting up looking at these people for ever, so I bent down and snapped a shot between some bodies.














Moon Jellies! Whoo hoo! Some silly people were trying to get them with flash (not allowed, but also not very successful. )
This is an au naturel shot, which looks better on the ELPH and which I had to augment for you.


The Maneaters of Tsavo. Maneless males. I missed out on the good old Mfuwe maneater this time.


Pretty, pretty park sculpture, dancing winged lady. I haven't been able to find out much about her.

Home Turf

So, I am back from the mightiness that is Chicago.
Here's how things went down:

Wednesday--Got into town in the late afternoon, called my Mom, and then vegetated for hours, pretending that I was going to do work and instead playing with the internet on my TV (a pay-service that, unfortunately, was not worth it), then watching said TV while eating room service (burger, fries, apple pie with cinnamon ice cream, and coke, on an elaborately linened and silvered tray) and pretending that I was going to do work some more. Watched America's Next Top Model, and Lost.

Thursday--Got up and sloooowly got ready to go to the conference. Got on the hotel's shuttle to the EL station, and met two funny guys who were, coincidentally, from University of Toledo. Took the half hour EL ride downtown, and led the aforementioned gents to the Palmer House. Registered, wandered around, figured out where my presentation was going to be, and graded a couple of essays on the sixth floor. Gave the presentation to a whopping crowd of 10 (we sat in a circle). Ran into some friends. Left.
Then things got wild. I took the EL north, had some McDonald's, and went to the LUSH store on Michigan Ave. It was heaven. I loved it. They have a nice little corner shop in Marshall Fields, right next to the MF cosmetic department, but separated by the overwhelming awesomeness that is LUSH. I met some workers who, like me, are LUSHes, and with whom I had great fun talking about products, conveying my knowledge of Amazon.com's selling of LUSH, and testing some things out. I received a hand massage with ocean salt, and generally bought as many things as I could conceivably use and that smelled amazing, including a Bio Fresh product that I can't get off amazon. Here is what I bought:
Bio Fresh Sacred Truth face mask Party On temple balm Ocean Salt face/body scrub Skin Drink moisturizer Eau Roma toner spray Aqua Marina facial cleanser Extra Virgin Olive Soap Olive Branch shower gel Ring of Roses Buttercream Bath Melts: Elixir (with glitter) and You've Been Mangoed Bubble Bars: Turbo, French Kiss, Amandopondo...did I get a Bathos too? Can't remember. Bath Bombs: Golden Slumbers, Honey Bee, Ginger, Blackberry, Black Pearl, Butterball, Romance in a Stone, and then either the Chelsea Garden or Softy...can't remember.
I think that's it. But all that was pretty heavy. Nevertheless, I carried it through the Victoria's Secret in the same mall as I bought a pretty sky nighty and some undies.
Then I went home, called my Mom, ate some leftovers, graded some essays, and passed out.

Friday--Took the El downtown and up to Roosevelt, then walked the rest of the way to the Museum Campus for some Shedd Aquarium and Field Museum action. The Pompeii exhibit in the museum was closing soon, and the tix were selling out, so I went and got a late-entry time (free general admission with my conference badge), and went to the aquarium first (whose line was shockingly fast). I walked about, took pictures of an anaconda and some frogs, tried to get Moon Jelly pictures, pictures of dolphins and a cutie Beluga.
And now I'd like to break from the action to say how much I heart my ELPH. Many pictures were retaken as a result of instant review. But let me just say that, even so, it is extremely difficult to get a picture of a shark's shadow on a rock.
I love me my aquarium. That is one of my favorite places on earth. Once, I went there on my fourteenth birthday, after eating room service danish for breakfast. How is that for awesome? That was the same year I got pointe shoes.
Then I went to the Field Museum and hastily ate half a tomato and mozzarella sandwich with roasted red peppers and fresh basil (amazing), then jumped on line for the Pompeii exhibit.
It made me cry, I won't lie. I was very moved by the pieces of jewelry and pottery, and the casts they included of bodies (I know...spooky). The exhibit felt sort of enormous and crowded, and I didn't get out of it until 4:30 or so, then spent some time in the gift shop. By the time I got back out to the museum they were starting to herd people toward the center of the museum and closing exhibits.
Okay...I admit it. I ducked under an unattended guard rail and practically ran through the hall of animals to find the Tsavo lions. I REFUSED to leave the museum without seeing them. And then promptly passed them, as I was coming from a direction I am unused to. I had to have a guard point me back in the right direction, and fortunately he seemed to understand my desire. I love those darn lions. I've seen them many times, but I have to see them every time I'm in Chicago. I prefer to sit and stare at them for a while, but this time I was about to be in trouble so I snapped a photo, stared them in the eyes, then left.
EL trip gave me a headache and I had to take a nap when I got back. Then I went down and ate a ridiculously lonely dinner in the hotel restaurant. It was very tasty; spinach-artichoke dip then some lemon caper chicken picatta, and a beer. I should have brought a book, though. There was a handsome guy across from me with the same problem, but he had his phone and was talking to a girlfriend, I think. It was all very silly. Then I ran into my friend Adam just before he was going into have a similarly solo dinner. I was glad to talk to him for a few minutes, but wished it had been an hour earlier. He, too, had his phone and was probably going to be talking to his wife. Ah, traveling alone.

Saturday--Supremely uneventful. Easy drive back; I was taking 294 south to 80 east, which I reckoned was less crowded than taking 90/94 through town, and I got to see the quarry. We've taken that route to Wisconsin lots of times so I'm pretty familiar with it. I was a little sleepy, but made it back unscathed thanks to car tapes.

And that's all! Now I have a ridiculous amount of work to catch up on. So stop pestering me!

Garden Inn O'Hare

Things I heart: Hotels with internet access via a nice little enclosed business center.
Things I hate: Ditto...or rather, the fact that I can't go for more than...oh, say six hours without computer access. Sad. I suppose I could go without, but since it's here...
The Garden Inn O'Hare is pretty nice, and I'm getting a good conference rate. There's a hotel shuttle to the nearest EL station, and I will be taking that downtown tomorrow. It'll be great. I think.
Tonight, I will be reviewing essays from the greatness that is my room, and then I will be eating something hopefully delicious and watching a ludicrous amount of hotel TV. Doesn't that sound great? I know, I really live it up. I know that there are two pools and a whirlpool here, but I have yet to decide if that's really going to be a part of my stay. One of them is a "Cool Pool." I have no idea what that means.
Big presentation tomorrow. Wish me luck. Wish it, I say!

Ah, Chicago

Glad to say that, after a spate of horrible dreams, I had a nice one last night. I can't remember what it was about, but I know I woke up and said sleepily, "thas better" and went back to sleep. It had something to do with sunshine.

In other news, I am going to a conference and giving a presentation; the rest of the time will be spent in museums and the Chicago LUSH store, and in my hotel room grading essays. I have a theory that I might be able to do a massively better job of this in a hotel room than I am currently doing at home and office. I even intend to eat at the hotel restaurant or get "carry-up" all three nights, and treat this like a semi-seclusion, AND, I plan to do some good old fashioned writing of a poem whilst there. 'twill rock.

More bad dreams.

STOMP

STOMP, viewed back home in East Lansing in the glory that is the Wharton Center, ruled. Much laughter and fun was had as thrilling and daring things took place onstage with newspapers, oil drums, lighters, etc.
The sad news is, it's over; don't you hate when you look forward to something and then it's gone, and you don't have something else to anticipate at that level? I do.

ATTENTION

ROOT HARD FOR MSU TONIGHT!
HOCKEY AND BASKETBALL ON THE LINE HERE.

In Which I Mull Over the Universe

Most of us are familiar with the space travel theory in which space is "folded" to bring two points, stupefyingly far apart, together, so that a ship can navigate from point a to point b in an instant.
But here's my question: Why not coil space instead?
Recently, and according to research reported by CNN, a nebula was found with astonishing order to its shape; rather than being a blob (the whole point of nebula), it took the shape of a double helix, a la DNA. The double helix shape is a naturally-occuring event in our DNA systems and in other objects, and evidently is caused in this nebula by black holes causing the magnetic field to twist.
I'm also reading about a theory in which a space ship could take off with a rotating magnetic field. VERY hypothetical at this point, but still intriguing.
It seems to me that with the need for rotation and the many and various forms of gravity involved in these processes, that treating space travel like a helix or coil is an appropriate step.
These are the things I think about on Fridays.

A Little Traveling Music, if you please.

Today, I'm stealing song-related memes from other blogs (you know I don't really love anyone else's but yours!)

First, the shuffle game (my Windows Media Player, because it's enormous):
How does the world see you? Omnia Sol Temperat (Carmini Burana, Carl Orff)--The sun warms everything
Will I have a happy life? Members Only (Sheryl Crow)
What do my friends really think of me? Comes Love (Ella Fitzgerald)
Do people secretly lust after me? They Won't Go When I Go (George Michael)
How can I make myself happy? Little Lamb (Gypsy)
What should I do with my life? Stetit Puella (Orff again)--There stood a maid
Will I ever have children? Agenais (Donna Lewis)
What is some good advice for me? Am I Getting Through (Sheryl Crow)
How will I be remembered? I'll Fly Away (Krauss, Welch)
What is my signature dancing song? The Magic Piper (of Love) Edwyn Collins
What do I think my current theme song is? Courante--09, Suite no. 2 in D Minor (Bach)
What does everyone else think my current theme song is? All Is Full of Love (Bjork)
What song will play at my funeral? Send Me On My Way (Rusted Root)
What type of men do I like? Anything You Can Do (Annie Get Your Gun)
What is my day going to be like? Whistle Down the Wind (Webber)

Funniest answer? Funeral Song, Send Me On My Way. One might to so far as to say, eerie.
But what the heck is up with my friends thinking about me in love and sunshine? You all are weird.

Next, the song title game. The artist today today: Tori Amos
1.) Are you a male or female? Girl
2.) Describe yourself: Happy Phantom
3.) How do you feel about yourself? Little Earthquakes
4.) Describe where you currently live: In the Springtime of His Voodoo
5.) If you could go anywhere, where would you go? Past the Mission
6.) Your best friend is Not the Red Baron
7.) Your favorite color is Talula
8.) You know... The Wrong Band
9.) What's the weather like? Winter
10.) If your life was a TV show, what would it be called? Cloud on My Tongue
11.) What is life to you? Tear in Your Hand
12.) What is the best advice you have to give? Twinkle
13.) If you could change your name, what would you change it to? Marianne
14.) What's the worst situation you could be in? Crucify
15.) What's the best situation you could be in? Pretty Good Year
16.) What do you want most right now? Spark

On the nature of TV blogs

I always got into reading Tim Gunn's blog re: Project Runway. Occasionally, I was disturbed by mistakes overlooked by editing and proofreading; he's a fashion design guru, not an English one, it's true, but having the life I do I was still sometimes bothered...surely a TV show can afford a good editor before such things are posted (I don't blame Gunn, you see; just those who put the stuff into the very public eye). Since I like and respect Tim Gunn, however, I let such things slide, and continued to read the blog, since mistakes were at least minimal and he remained, in my eyes, appropriately literate.
Imagine my horror when reading the Top Chef blogs and seeing mistakes like run-ons and pronoun issues, and even an incorrect reference to Madame S., the episode 2 judge, in one of the blogs, to the effect of, "Mister S.'s Bondage and Fetish shop." I was disappointed.
These blogs say very little about the contestants' dishes and about the stuff the camera doesn't show, or about the inside of the cooking. What they tend to put in the blog is generic and offering little in the way of insight. Some of the ideas are mildly interesting, but hey...I want to learn about the life of a Top Chef. I want to know the inside scoop on the challenge, and the more complex opinions not able to be included on camera. In other words, give me something above and beyond what I can see on the show.
One thing a judge did this week was offer a few sexy recipes. I thought that was okay, and a nice touch, but frankly, I'm not interested in the judges' visions of sexy. I'm interested in their judgments of the contestants and the chefs' processes in cooking. In short, I miss Tim Gunn.
Top Chef blogs, I hope that, as the season continues, this area will improve for those of us who are truly wanting to learn and see more about the show.

Newsies

No, not just a clever Christian Bale reference, although I did have a dream about him the other night, in which he came to my home in Michigan, but a comment on all the great news I've been hearing.
A lot of my friends have had some good news lately, engagements, a baby on the way, a fellowship, a new job and move...I just want to say congratulations to all of you. This is an extra-great thing because so many of my friends have been going through hard times, too, and it's wonderful to see some bright lights in our lives.
And to the rest of you not included in the above, I celebrate whatever good news you're having, and wish for you more of it.

Fashion, it's just Fashion

Ok, so I had some requests for photos of my projects; here are a couple of the most recent. Sorry about the goofy poses. It's awfully hard to take pictures of oneself in a poorly lit room while distracted by the movie Pillow Talk. I aim eventually to have pictures of all the clothes I've made, but...well, who has the time?

I don't know you! That's my purse!

If anyone can tell me what the subject line is from, I will give you...my respect.
Today feels so surreal to me. Nothing is standing still. No, I'm not drunk. I know it's nearly a full moon, and I always get a little weird at that point, but the trouble is it's not even me being weird. It's everything else.
For instance, the storm last night. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, and wasn't nearly as bad as places to the southwest of us, but even so, with a particularly solid bolt of lightning, my phone rang. Just a half a ring, but a ring nonetheless. If I'd been on the phone, I would have been electrocuted. It gave me a headache.
Today, we are under weather watches, and I am feeling fussy and tense. It's sunny right now, but I don't trust the sky. I think we'll be okay, though. The weather map is pretty clean for now.

In better news, the second half of my break was better than the first. Once I resigned myself to grading my essays in peace and working on various conference presentation stuff, I was okay. I did still do some fun stuff, like:

Finishing Wicked

Reading the entirety of Lost, also by Gregory Maguire. That's right! I read one and a half books! It felt awesome. I didn't like Lost as much as I liked Wicked. It was very cluttery, and I have trouble with books where all the people are abrasive and quick to anger; you'll be reading a conversation and, two lines in, someone gets mad or offended right away and you have no idea why, even at the end when everything is explained. I hate that...I wasn't willing to suspend my disbelief that people were really like that, but it wasn't magical enough for me to accept it as it was. Part of that was certainly growing out of who the characters were, but after a while it felt like a device, like when dialogue is written with a very obvious and cluttery accent for too long. It was annoying rather than intriguing. I got frustrated in a bad way. There was also a lot of incoherence involved in the writing, the plot development, that went beyond the ghost story it was. Ironically, reading it went much faster than Wicked, though. In all, I'm glad I bought it, I'm glad I read it, but it's not a book I'll return to over and over. I'm looking forward to some of his other books, though.

I also finished a knit shirt out of the leftover fabric I had from that dress. Getting the pattern pieces cut was a challenge, because I didn't have much left. The answer? Front and back seams, and not caring that much what angle they were cut on. It wasn't the best designed top, since I sort of made an extreme modification of another pattern to do it, but it worked all right and it's pretty cute. Yes, it's a low back. It's sort of the original low back top I'd planned after seeing something out there on the market. I didn't do a great job planning the armhole/small sleeve, but as it's knit it doesn' t matter too much. It is pretty good, I think, for something I just did in a couple of hours with some leftover fabric. It's "out" worthy, and shall be worn soon with a pink shantung skirt.

Watched Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. How I love that show. This week I bawled without restraint as they brought home the widow and five kids of a pastor, who had had to leave the parsonage after the loss and had some tough times. I have the unfortunate habit of trying to eat during that show, and I need to stop it. Crying and eating scalloped potatoes at the same time is not a workable scenario.

Also played some quality games of mah jongg solitaire and electronic yahtzee. Ah, good times.

In Which I Equate Spring Fever with Shoes

So, I have the VS lookbook in my hands, and the shoe book at home, and I've just realized that I am hungering...HUNGERING...for some new shoes.
I don't need any new shoes, in the conventional sense. I have more pairs than I know what to do with as it is. But as I look at the prettypretty spring heels, one pair of which is a peep-toe with a sunflower and clear straps, one of which is an adorable pair of espadrilles (AlthoughI still haven't learned to walk in these, I want some), I want some new cute summery shoes, appropriate for warm, sunny days. In fact, I want two pairs; one pair of heels, and one thong sandal pair to replace my one pair of flip-flops for "specialer" occasions, since mine, purchased for a pedicure day, are falling apart. I have faced the reality of flip flops and given in to a one or two pair extent. But I love wearing some comfortable heeled shoes in the summer (my feet being flat as Kansas, I need a little lift). I must have some new shoes!

In other news, my legs are still complaining loudly about my athletic activities at the beginning of the week. Obviously I need to work out a little more often.

Glued to my set

These days, I'm terrified that my TV is going to die; I've had it since sophmore year of college, which was a while ago. Fortunately, it did not die last night, because three interesting shows were on:
1. Cycle 6, America's Next Top Model
Now, I don't watch ANTM all the time, because I hate stupid girly drama and I get tired of watching these people who are inept at speaking in public or emitting valuable emotion. For instance, here's my answer for Gina, who was asked in the "press conference" about how she'd feel if she won, as an Asian woman--evidently she clammed up (I didn't watch that part of the show):
"The idea or allure of Asian-inspired fashion and popular culture is enormous now; figures of Asian women are everywhere. But does anyone know their names? They are anonymous. To me, winning ANTM would be putting a name on that figure."
But at the same time, I was glad I watched the photo part of the show, and the judging. The bald challenge was unique and refreshing, and I think we got to know a lot about those models' true looks. I also enjoyed watching Nigel put Jade in her place; he's the one most able to do so in a cool and refined way, to make her feel stupid without being bitchy himself...though of that he's certainly capable.

2. Project Runway FINALE
You go, Chloe Dao. Truthfully, I wasn't impressed by anyone's collection as a whole. These were weaker collections than Jay's and Kara's last year. Everyone had pieces I liked, and on the whole I liked more of Chloe's than anyone else's. And her fitting? As the judges rightfully pointed out, immaculate. I understood the tough decision they had to make, but when all factors are considered, they made the right choice. I feel sure that all three designers will find a place in the industry.
Interestingly, the clearest and most consistent point of view belonged to Kara, who also showed at Fashion Week (you can find her video on the PR website). Her pieces were collected and colorful. The only problem is that they had the same overall feeling as Jay's collection from last year. Their goals were different, and their fits, but the use of color in a sort of punk beauty, whether casual or evening, was similar. Jay had the head phones, Kara had the woolly caps.
Now, on the same note as the above, in terms of people being dull in official and special places, what is up with the designers looking like crap and sounding like automatons? I understand Olympus, let alone Bryant Park, is the hugest experience, but so is getting married. People write their own vows to recite. Can't you write a vow for Bryant Park? At least Daniel had the jacket. I don't care how tired you are (and this is actually one of Daniel's pet things, I read in an interview), you need to look nice when you appear in public. Put some effort in. You don't want to outshine the clothes, but since you're on the runway for a whole of about five seconds before, and ten seconds after, that isn't likely anyhow. Sheesh, put on something special. It doesn't even take that much time or talent to look special. You don't have to amaze anybody. GRR.

3. Top Chef premiere
I wasn't going to watch this show, but it was on after PR and I was working on finishing a dress and was, anyway, curious about it. I do not approve of the host...she may be smart, but her demeanor and style of speaking doesn't sound it. But the actual challenges were interesting. The first, trying to hold one's own in Fleur de Lys (note the host is the only one who called it 'Fleur de Lease'...qu'est-ce que c'est, ca?), under the watchful eye of Chef Hubert...scary. Just flat scary. I can understand how some of these guys got nervy, and was impressed with the three or so who "passed" that challenge. The second, well, not as exciting, but at least interesting to see people's points of view as they prepared their signature dishes.
I am rooting right now for Tiffani. She rocked the kitchen, and she rocked the final dish. She didn't win either challenge, which made me sad. I am hoping she will be the Chloe Dao, finishing strong in each challenge, and coming back to win the whole thing. She was also the one who had the energy to slap stupid Ken around (yes, Ken, I called you stupid. Your excuses of "that's just the way I am" and "I tell it like it is" are weak and ineffectual; you could just as easily have made similar excuses about being an alcoholic. An uncontrolled temper and disrespect to people you are under is no less a vice.). You go, Tiffani, for calling him out. I also like Lee Anne. Her dish was not so strong, but her kitchen demeanor and drive are great.
I am entertained that Bravo decided a show about the often obsessive and closed-door culinary world would be good TV. It's not like PR, where I can look and say "I could do that, if I applied myself." I could never cook like these people. That's not the way I eat. Maybe that's just my own personal perception working, and it is really on the same level of PR. I like to cook, though, as much as I like to sew, but I know which show I'd succeed more on. ANTM! Just kidding. Well, maybe. Got a camera?

Anyway, so Wednesday night TV turned out to be a good distraction. I finished a cute little black knit dress, though I'm going to let out the hem a little, I think. After the shows I watched some of HP and the Goblet of Fire as I stitched away.
Today it is gray and rainy, with storms possible. My heart feels like it is being squeezed in a rough-hewn box. I need a hug.

Spring Break is such a tease

Good news: Going to get warmer tomorrow.
Bad news: Going to thunderstorm tomorrow.
Weather Channel: Please do not ever again place a Tornado Week advertisement right before the local weather report.

And now, because I heart Steve's memes, here's me once again copying.
Books
...and I'm trying to list something different for every one

A book that made you cry: Julie (Andrews) Edwards, Mandy
A book that scared you: Betty Ren Wright, The Dollhouse Murders
A book that made you laugh: David Sedaris, Me Talk Pretty One Day
A book you loved in Elementary School: Madye Lee Chastain, Emmy Keeps a Promise
A book you loved in Middle School: Lloyd Alexander's Prydain Chronicles
A book you loved in High School: Elizabeth Goudge, Linnets and Valerians
A book you hated in High School: John Knowles, A Separate Peace
A book that challenged your imagination: Michael Ende, The Neverending Story
A book that challenged your identity: Gregory Maguire, Wicked
A book series that you love: Harry Potter (duh)
Your favorite Horror Book: Dean Koontz, Phantoms
Your favorite Science Fiction Book: Robert Heinlein, Tunnel in the Sky
Your favorite Fantasy story: Piers Anthony, On a Pale Horse
Your favorite Mystery story: Dick Francis, Straight
Your favorite Coming-of-Age story: edit:Anne of Green Gables/Anne of Avonlea
Your favorite book that isn’t on this list: anything Agatha Christie, but especially Death on the Nile and Murder on the Orient Express. Also Brenda Hillman, Death Tractates. Also Hitchhiker's Guide, and the Dirk Gently series from Douglas Adams.

In a creepy twist, when I was looking up the author for Dollhouse Murders, another of my old scary books, Wait Till Helen Comes, came up on the amazon suggestions.

Run Abby Run

Today I learned that I usually, in fact, go about a mile and a half jogging. I used mapquest to get the distance between my house and the place I usually turn to make my loop. How nerdy is that? Then I quadrangulated something. No, I didn't.
Anyway, I shall test this theory today whilst I jog on the jogging trail, which is 1/3 of a mile long. Granted, it's been a while since I jogged, and yesterday I had a whopper of a dance workout (for which my thighs are saying, what the heck?), so this may not be an accurate test. But it shall be a testament to my sister's hard work at running two miles plus, for her determination is leaking over to me a little bit.

Edit: one hour later.
One mile. That's how far I made it. Could I have made it farther? Yeah, probably. But my legs were tiiiiiired from yesterday's shenanigans. And my cardio system? Not in good shape. Obviously I have some work to do to get back into fighting form. Whatever that means. Currently, my thighs and bottom are asking each other, "how can we get her back for this?"

In other news, I am nearly finished with Wicked. Also, I intend to buy a Harry Potter 4 DvD as soon as possible. Conveniently enough, the milk is in the process of going off several days early, necessitating a trip to Meijer, where I will buy HP 4.

Save Me

I've been on break for a day and a half.
And...I'm...Going...INSANE.
Yes, I have stuff to do, of a teacherly nature and of a project nature, but I am so restless I think I'm going to explode.

Mail Call

Petit Juror

So today I got this on-call notice for jury duty for the month of April. I have to fill out a form and send it in, and then if I get selected for petit term jury duty I get a yellow notice in the mail a week before the trial.
I don't know how I feel about this. I'm willing to do my civic duty, but I'm absolutely praying that, should I be selected, it is something ridiculously small and simple, with truly obvious evidence. Is that wrong?
I remember my Mom had to go for jury duty once, and I think she got excused because we kids once sold Girl Scout cookies to the defendant. Or something like that. Maybe that wasn't suitable grounds for dismissal. I can't remember. Anyway, our family knows everybody back home (and not because we're particularly important, just because we're busy) and it would be hard to find a suitable case in which we had no personal connection.
Nobody do anything illegal for a while, okay? I don't want to have to send you to jail, and as honest as I try to be, I would have to if you, say, knocked over an ATM or stole a pack of gum from a gas station, on video. And don't even get me started on drug charges or drunk and disorderly.
Has anyone ever had jury duty? Tell me about your experience.

Dream a Little Dream

I had this weird, crazy dream last night that was some sort of playful Victorian mystery...I was the female head of a household of kids, and these pesky kids got into all sorts of trouble on the beach, including bothering the old neighbor lady, who was a mysterious old...witch? crazy woman? imperious harridan? gentle but misunderstood widow? The last part I remember is my husband and myself taking some pies, secretly, under cover of moonlight, to her house in our carriage, and riding through her orchard just off her driveway considering how we'd sneak in undetected. Evidently we were doing this to apologize because our children had troubled her in some way, but we ourselves were apprehensive of her.
Like I said. Weird. But at least not truly scary. The ocean was kind of frightening at one point in the dream, and of course the old lady was scary. I woke up thinking I'd write a book of some sort, but now I haven't the faintest idea how I'd do it. It was all very theatrical.

Fourth Genre are my new friends

So, I got a rejection letter from Fourth Genre today, which prints essays. Why are they my friends then, you ask? Well, they sent me two comments in a nice letter, from readers, about the first literary essay I've ever sent out. One said, "There is some interesting architecture and insight displayed here." The other said, "An authentic piece that draws me in as a reader. However, I wonder if the italicized segments are too much of a literary device." I'm working on digesting that one, since I think I might agree but can't think what to do about it.
The essay was written for my grandmother's birthday, but I tried to make it edgy and meaningful in a literary way. I had a real issue with transitioning, and also wanted to make the essay somewhat lyrical. So, I have these italicized segments recounting how it must feel to be chased and bitten by a dog (which is what the essay is about) placed throughout. They are a literary device, because I wanted to make the essay at least somewhat poetic, since that's my life. I don't want to do without them, but am wondering if the placement and arrangement are making me rely too much on them for those transitions between sections.
I don't know. This was sort of an experiment, and I was really encouraged by FG's letter, especially since they said to keep trying them as they'd be glad to look at other work. If only I had other work to send. That's the only essay I have! I'd like to try more places, but am not sure where to send, and am not sure if I should do some work on the essay first. So, FG rules, and made me feel good, even if it was a rejection (and I've gotten several of those lately...one of my Spring Break goals is to get more work out).

Break Has Begun

Let it ring forth: I am officially on break.
Granted, I have a pile of 90 essays to grade, and the pile is daunting. But I don't have to give them back right away when school resumes, and I have plenty of time in the interim to get them done, so the usual quota per day will be cut in half. And will not begin until tomorrow. Tra la. Perhaps I shall even spend one or two days in frenzied grading next week to reduce said quota even further. You know. If I get bored.
I plan to sew, write poems, watch TV, and vegetate. I may take a few field trips, assuming my car is behaving. I also plan to rekindle my romance with my bed. Some noon wakeup times are definitely in order.

Haven't caught up with Project Runway from last night, but I did read some of the questions and answers with Tim Gunn on the website; for anyone who has considered the same question, he says yes, the clothes do look very different in person. He specifically mentioned Zulema's Inspiration dress, which was one that made me wonder; the judges sharply criticized her construction, but most of the difficulties weren't visible to the TV viewer. I trust the judges' opinions, but definitely wondered at the difference. You can only imagine how bad some of the problems visible to the TV viewer look in person (though I gather some of the garments look worse on TV also).

Two Days 'til Break!

In TV news, Supernatural is moving to Thursdays, just when I got used to watching Gilmore Girls then Supernatural. This makes me kind of sad.
Funniest line of Supernatural: Why don't you try a little thinking with your upstairs brain?"
Or something to that effect.
The season finale of Project Runway starts tonight; I shall be watching it in rerun, as I will not be home until later.

In sewing news, I am working on finishing a blouse which, of course, I made with a plunging back. Again. So far, so good. I made a pattern choice and went with it, and altered it. This one has some long, flowy sleeves that I need to put in yet, then I need to hem the thing. I think it will work. Plunging backs rule!