Hello Friends

Funny how things like oh, say, blogging just don’t seem as appealing when I am mentally taxed all day at work. Kind of says a lot about my last job eh? Just imagine that you are about a year old. You’re standing at one end of a hallway. Someone at the opposite end is standing there, looking at you and says “Walk over here.” Now, as a grown person (or even a 5 year old) you see no big challenge in walking across the room. But friend, you are only one. You can barely walk. This molehill seems like a mountain.

That’s how I feel at work now. I know that soon I’ll look back and realize how not hard this really is, its just all so brand new that I have to learn every tiny aspect from nothing.

So imagine me, as a one year old. When someone asks me to walk across the room, I want to do it. I see how easy it is. Millions of people do it everyday… it even looks kind of fun… But first I’ve got to figure out how to balance, flex my muscles, bend my knees and pick up my feet.

You dig?

Now let’s talk about my car:

I got a new battery at Sears for my car. While I was there, I figured I’d get new tires too, as I would be pushing my luck to continue driving on my old ones for much longer. And I mean really, what’s not to love about dropping $500+ on your car in an afternoon? But now I can stop each and every time I hit the brakes, which is good.

I thought I was driving a really hard bargain by opting out of the road hazard extended warranty after I noticed that it was automatically added to my work order and bill. (PS- if you want to really irk me, sell me something and charge me for it without asking me first- I love that!). So after opting out of said extended warranty protection (I mean come on, tires are thick and strong- and they have a manufacturers warranty in case anything major happens…) I promptly hit a massive curb/drain/pothole-like thing on the street when I was trying to park at night. And when I say “promptly,” I mean “the very next god damned night after buying brand new tires”. Huge gouge in the side wall of the new tire. Swear words were spoken. A guy in a wheel chair stopped on the sidewalk and told me I should have my alignment checked. I was furious. The kind of furious that you get when you have no one to blame but yourself, and even then, it really isn’t your fault. So to speak.

So with my head hanging low, I returned to Sears and told them my story, and fully expected to have to pay another $100 and some change on a new tire. But they guy said, ‘Oh, you might be okay- it’s probably covered under the warranty… (reads through paper work…) Oh shoot- looks like you opted out of the road hazard warranty. Too bad.”

We had a laugh about Murphy’s law and he was an agreeable enough guy. And then the unthinkable happened:

Guy at Sears: “Listen, why don’t I just charge you the $45 for the extended warranty as if you bought it yesterday, and then the cost of the new tire and realignment is covered under the warranty.”

Gina: ______________(that’s the sound of me being speechless with delight).


So- Thank you guy at Sears, you really made me feel like less of an ass for nearly popping my tire while parallel parking!

And advice to all others who live in cities with terribly maintained roads*:


Just pay for the warranty.



*I’m not complaining, just making an observation.


Car Topic 2: I took my car in for its 60K mile tune up today, and I get a call that both of my “marker lights” are burnt out. After a far-to-long conversation with the gal on the phone about not only what “marker lights” are (the lights in your head light unit that are neither headlights or turn signal lights…?) but also their function which apparently is to accompany the headlight and tell others that they are in fact, viewing the front of your car rather than the back (Which I was only able to ascertain after loudly stating “I understand that they are MARKER LIGHTS, I need you to tell me what they DO- what is their reason for BEING), she gave me a repair quote:

“that’ll run ya $154.”

I guess this dealership has a woman service manager available to speak with other woman clients so we don’t feel like we’re getting screwed over, but its hard not to feel like your village was just pilfered when someone tells you that they’re going to change two light bulbs, and charge you $154 (in addition to the super spendy 60K service, about which I am already conflicted, given that they’re really just changing the oil, checking the fluids and changing my spark plugs…).

She said that the parts are only $6, but the labor is what costs so much because they have to remove the entire headlight assembly.

Maybe I should have learned my lesson re. “getting what you pay for” with the whole tire warranty deal, but can you blame me for wanting to see if I can fix the damned lights on my own before I spend that much to have someone else do it?

And its not even for my headlights (which work fine) but for my MARKER LIGHTS, which truth be told, I didn’t even know existed before today.

So… anyone know how to take apart a headlight assembly in an ’02 Subaru Outback Sport?


And all this for a car when I’d just prefer to take the metro everywhere so I can listen to the Ricky Gervais Show Podcasts on my iPod…

Almost Heaven, West Virginia...

Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River….

Hot Damn, isn’t it great that just the thought of John Denver can put a smile on your face? What? It didn’t put a smile on your face? Okay, just the thought of John Denver puts a smile on MY face. And probably Anne’s. And Kari’s too!

I was a real live Mountain Mamma this weekend- I went to West Virginia!! J and I went skiing at Snowshoe for the three day weekend and had a lovely time. I was prepared for crappy ski conditions, as I was advised that all snow on this side of the country is pretty much 100% pure garbage, but really- it wasn’t too bad. Not great, but ski-able. The double black diamond runs were closer to hefty blue squares in my book, and there was a fair amount of man-made snow, but it did the trick.

And here’s what put me over into the “I’d ski there again” category: The West Virginians.

Seriously the nicest people- as a whole- that I’ve ever encountered. Real salt of the earth types. Sure, our waitresses generally had sideburns that reminded me of my grandfather in the early 80’s, but what they lacked in fashion and dental hygiene, they made up for in good-hearted wholesomeness. No other way to word it.

I’m looking forward to going back there in summer- I predict that it will be a beautiful drive when everything is alive a green. Daphne will also appreciate a return trip to her homeland. I don’t know that she really has roots in WV, but I’d like to think that she does.

So aside from skiing, there was soaking in the hot tub after said skiing (much needed), Trivial Pursuit Pop Culture (at which I totally RULE!), eating of good food, and watching of Olympic level curling, bobsledding and ice dancing.

Ah- there was also a flash lesson in auto care and maintenance, as my car wouldn’t start on Sunday or Monday morning- well, it did start, but not without heavy prompting, channeling of positive vibes and looking through the owner’s manual with a crooked brow. I think it was one part old battery that “needs replaced” (as they say in WV) and one part FRIGGEN FREEZING cold outside in the mornings. As in… my entire car was frozen solid because I parked in the shade. So cold that when I released the clutch after trying to start the car, it stayed completely engaged. Guess that’s why they plug in their cars in Alaska… Or maybe my battery just never fully recovered after “The Great Stuck- on-Snoqualmie-Pass-With-Lisa-Whilst-Running-All-Accessories-on-Full-Blast Capers of ‘05”??? The world will never know…

In any case, a trip to Sears is in order this weekend. And not the Softer Side. I hear DieHard’s are the way to go.

Is this irony or just plain crap?

J is supposed to be driving a desk these days, pushing paper etc. We just got to DC about a month ago (well, I did at least, he's been here for about 2 months). We're finally unpacked for the most part, I found a job that I like, things have been going swimmingly. This was supposed to be our time to finally be normal young people in love...

But he found out yesterday that he's getting deployed again. For a year. And he leaves soon. I have milk in the refrigerator that expires after he leaves. This time, he won't be on a ship traveling around through bad-guy waters, but actually on land in bad-guyville. You can imagine how thrilling this is to me.

As much as I've been wanting to scream "BUT YOU CAN'T DO THAT- THAT'S NOT THE WAY IT'S SUPPOSED TO GO!! HE JUST GOT HOME!" I realize that it really doesn't matter how/why/who this is all coming from. Regardless of why its happening, or how incredibly... not fair... it is, it's happening. And it very well could turn me into a bitter, bitter person. In theory, I should get pissed, I should be bitter, I should lead the protest march. I should help stick the "Step Down Bush" stickers all over DC.

But I don't want to be bitter and mad because that's not who I am. I like being happy. And I need that trait right now more than ever. I'll be damned if THIS ("this" being a very broad term here) is going to change my core. I've learned that, for me at least, having the capacity to be pissed at "The Man" is a luxury I don't have. For now at least.

And in response to a comment left on my last entry, yes, I did like McDreamy when he was just a nerd in Can't Buy Me Love. Duh...

Valentine's Day Observation

I stopped into Rite Aid today on my way home from work today(Oh yeah, the new job is going really well by the way- totally overwhelmed, but in a good way. I think.) to get a card for J. Granted, tomorrow is Valentine's day, but really, who needs more than a day of lead/prep time to buy a card?

I was irked to see that all of the cards for men including the "Love, for him" and "For Husband" etc were pretty well picked-over. Only some cheesy ones left. Then when I did find one that was okay, I couldn't find a matching envelope for it... (It was oblong).


Interestingly enough, the cards "For My Wife" "Romantic- For her" were completely well-stocked. And looked as though they hadn't been touched.

Not entirely surprising.


So readers, what are y'all doing for Valentine's Day? And if you respond with "Nothing- its just a holiday created by the greeting card industry to make us feel that spending money on our loved ones is the only way to show how much we care!" Please, be honest- do you really feel that way, or is that the opinion that you've had to adopt in order to avoid pending disappointment?

Huh. that was uneventful

Okay we lost, even though we played what many would consider, a better game. I found the whole thing entirely anti-climactic. Perhaps a product of being a Cougar fan where we blow big leads in the last minute in heart-breaking, but exciting (for the other team) losses.

I found myself saying, "well, there are 3 minutes to go and... looks like there's no way we could win. Darn."


But how 'bout those Stones?!? Sheesh! I never thought I'd say this, but I think Mic and Keith might be in better cardiovascular health than me. Or anyone I know for that matter.

Even the commercials weren't all that glorious. I did like the streaking lamb and the little colt trying to pull the Budweiser wagon. What was your favorite?

Off to watch Grey's Anatomy.

Future blog topic: Saw Brokeback Mountain this weekend and fear that my new fascination with Jake Gillinthal might be stronger than my feelings for Dr. McDreamy. I'm shocked.

Kidding!!

Perhaps I should have clarified in my most recent post...

Of COURSE I'm kidding about my money being transfered to a no-access-by-me account! It was just a little joke... perhaps not so funny in some situations, but when we're talking about gina-money-maven-palooza, its at least... silly.

Now I really want to comment about me starting to assume responsibility for his child-support payments- at least until he starts working again, or collecting on that disability claim... But I won't. Becuase some women really DO do things like that.

And no, he doesn't have any children... That he knows of.

The end is near

The end of sleeping in everyday and not having to go to work every morning that is.

It looks as thought I'll be starting a new J-O-B next week, and while I'm happy about it, as I think its a good fit, I'll miss my early DC days, and all of the long walks and daytime television programming that it brought to my life.

I was even able to watch Days of Our Lives two days in a row, and (not) surprisingly enough, was able to pick up right where I left off back Junior high... And yes, it seems that Marlena Evans is once again, brainwashed. Not sure if it (again) was all the work of The Evil Stephano (who has likely died and come back to life at least a few times in the past 10-15 years) but its still the making of good TV.

On a seperate note, J and I have recently opened a joint checking account with which to pay our joint expenses, (he's having me do direct deposit of all of my pay check into it, and is taking out about 90% of it each month and putting it into a special account I don't have access to "for our future," this is a good idea right?? No silly...) and the checks arrived yesterday. The first set was free. This sounded fine until I got them, looked at them, and found that the free checks are kind of a sample-pack of about 5 popular styles that we can choose in the future. A good idea in theory, until I realized that an Anne Geddes design is included, which means that every 5th check we now write will have BABIES IN GD FLOWER POTS on them...

Hey, that sorority girl from 1998 called: she wants her checks back! Good lord...

So on that happy note, here's a little somethin' for y'all. Have a super day. And remember, shoot for the moon. 'Cause even if you miss, you'll still be among the stars!!

When it's good, it's good

I was reading the DC City Paper a couple of days ago and had to tear out an ad that really spoke to my heart. It was a small black and white ad in the corner of the page for Madams Organ, a bar that I've been to only once, but liked quite a bit near our place in Adams Morgan. It caught my eye because I'd been there before and recognized the name. But it captured my heart when I read:

"Rolling Rocks 1/2 off for Redheads Everyday"


Thank you world, for understanding the plight of the American Redhead.

Not trying to jump on the anti-corporate/Supersize Me band-wagon but...

I think I have the short answer to America's weight problem: Let's start looking (with both eyes)at how much food we're eating! As a Registered Dietitian, I feel that it is necessary to stay up-to-date and current on availability of fast food at popular American franchises. So I went to Popeye's Chicken the other day for an evaluation. Which involved eating a three piece chicken strip meal...

Which enjoying my meal (which ironically, I didn't enjoy at all because, well, it was pretty gross- I honestly don't know why I went there, other than I remember that the biscuits were really tasty when I went there in New Orleans... which is about all I remember. Which should have told me something.) I was reading through the flyer on my tray and discovered that it contained 4 columns of coupons for use at future visits. What I'm about to tell you is not an exaggeration, I'm reading it as a type (yes, I took it home because I planned to mail it to Kelly, who I knew would appreciate the insanity of it).

column Number 1 "Snacks": 3 pieces and a biscuit

Does the world need a reminding that HALF of a chicken is a bit more than a snack? Maybe this is why people think that a dietitians mantra of "at least three meals and two snacks a day" sounds so impossible. At that rate, there would be no more chickens pecking this earth... A string cheese and some raisins... celery and some peanut butter people... THAT is a snack!

Column 2 "Meals for 1": Free 2 Piece Meal with the Purchase of 2-Piece Dinner.

I hope for the sake of our nation's total LDL levels that they're considering this for a total of 2 people, but I fear all 4 pieces will head toward the same mouth...

Column 3 "Meals for 2": 10 pieces, 1 Large Side and 5 biscuits $9.99

That's it, no buy one get one free, just 10 pieces of deep fried chicken, a large bucket of side dish, and 5 biscuits. Between 2 people though, I'd hate to see the fight about who gets a third biscuit, and who gets stuck with only two measly biscuits, (plus 5 pieces of chicken and about 2.5 cups of mac and cheese, baked beans or mashed potatoes...)

And yet, as a nation, how much do we spend on the diet industry???

Column 4 "meals for the family": Buy a bunch of chicken and then go hide the bones in the cracks of the sidewalk for the neighborhood dogs to choke on!



Alright, that's all for now. I'm going to go drink some water and maybe have an apple. And 15 pieces of chicken. Cause I'm trying to watch my portion sizes.

The things I like, the things I don't care for.

Because my mother always said that its more polite to say "I don't care for XYZ" than "I don't like XYZ". She was referring to food at the dinner table, but I'm hoping it’s still the case here.

So- it's been a week and two days, and here is what I have gathered so for about DC:

Top 3 Things I don't care for:

1) The unbelievable number of chicken bones that litter the sidewalks of this city. I can honestly say that not once in my life have I ever felt the urge to eat a piece of chicken while walking down, or sitting on the street. But if pressed, I suppose I can see a certain appeal in such a mobile snack. But when finished sucking all the meat off the bone what kind of person says to him/herself, "Self, I think I'll just drop this chicken bone right here on the street, after all, the rats are looking awfully skinny these days, I'm sure they could use a nice meal. Or may it will just biodegrade?!"

To and/all people who may assume the above: In reality, the fate of your chicken bones is a little different: Here's the real deal- the bones don’t just disappear, they get kicked aside and slough off into the cracks of the sidewalk, the medians, or the strips of dirt that run between the sidewalk and driveways, and share their new home with broken glass, dirty band-aids, and a plethora of other unsavory human waste items. Then, when people are walking down the street with their dogs, specifically, dogs with extra keen senses of smell...the hound group for instance... their dogs take great joy in finding the bones and stealthily snapping them up in the mouths. Unfortunately, cooked chicken bones splinter, and are a big safety no-no in the world of domestic dogs. Because of this, the owners have to pry open their dogs' vice-grip jaws, reach their hand into the dogs' mouths and fish around for the bone fragments, pull the dog-saliva coated hand/arm out of said mouths (all the while cursing and rumbling things like "son of a BITCH! Where the HELL are all these GOD DAMNED chicken bones coming from?!?!?"). Then the dog owners are sitting there with shards of dog and human chewed chicken bone in their hands, and wander around like that until they find a proper trash receptacle in which to toss the bones.

So my proposal to the world of chicken-bone-throwers is this: I'll continue to pick up and throw away my dog's poop, if you drop your bones in a trash can instead of the sidewalk. Deal? Great, thanks.

2) Customer Service Attitudes (or lack thereof)
Wow. I'm only basing this on my experiences at the DMV, the grocery store and the Vet's office, but g-wiz, the only thing I have in my memory bank to compare it to would have to be... Eastern Block Europe- in the early 90's.

Granted, DMV employees are typically not known for the outstanding personalities, but these folks were real peaches. But I suppose I did eventually get my car registered and get my license. But I did a lot of research online and got all my ducks in a row before stepping foot into their offices, (and I only got sent home once to get more documentation...) I felt really bad for the other people I saw there who needed some help figuring out how things worked, and they clearly were not going to get that help. Ever.

As for the grocery store and the vet's office, its just a general feeling of apathy toward long lines of waiting customers, and an "I'll get to you when I get to you" type of attitude that I -now that I think about it- rarely saw in Seattle.

3) Our downstairs neighbor that started pounding on her ceiling last night with a broom handle (in what I can only imagine was an aggressive attempt to tell us to be quiet) while J and I were quietly filing papers and organizing our book shelves. It was about 9:50 PM. We finally realized that it was Daphne. She was on the floor, chewing on her new bone that I got her at the pet store after her trip to the vet. Apparently the sound of her chewing was just too much for this lady to handle.

Am I a bad person if I am eagerly awaiting her next session of (what is routinely audible) sexual intercourse during which I plan to jump up and down on the floor?

Payback can be a bitch. And sometimes, so can I.



Things that I LIKE!

1) The Metro.

I just can't help it. I think its fun, exciting and just so damned great!

2) The insanely aggressive driving. I was toying with putting it on my things I don't care for list, but in all honesty, I think I'm growing to like it. At first, getting honked at for not driving like a total spaz make me nervous and defensive, now it just fuels the fire that is... me. Now that I have my DC plates, I feel more justified in honking at people with out of state plates when they say… need to get out of a turn lane and the last minute, or take more than 1/8 of a second to accelerate when the light turns green. Kind of like hazing...

3) The best things in this town are all free!

All the sights, museums etc- all free. America: Membership has its benefits.

4) This is where its ALL HAPPENING. And its not like I'm part of it, heck, I'm really not involved in any of it. But it feels more real. And I have a front row ticket.

5) I'm on the East coast, but I don't feel like an alien. Everyone is from somewhere, and there is a little bit of everywhere somewhere.

6) I can see the Capitol and the Washington Monument every time I take Daphne out for even the quickest walk.



So- for now at least, there are more things that I like than I don't. And you can't ask for much more than that. I'm off to dabble in the job hunt... which I admit, is still half-hearted, as there is so much to do here, that who really has time to work?

...until I run out of money...

Abrir la ventana

Or... "Open the window" to those of you who not in the Spanish-know.

It's something that I can do now. After living in a 420 square foot studio in Seattle for over two years with NO windows (which I really didn't realize until after I signed the lease- that's what happens when you find a place that allows big dogs, has a washer/dryer in the unit AND is in your price range- you just TAKE IT.) It had French doors that led out to a little patio, so I didn't feel boxed-in, but you can't exactly leave those all night. Well, okay, I did all the time. And I'll publicly admit that now, since I no longer live there and feel fairly confident that no one will come looking for me there anymore, but really- that was right up there with driving drunk as far as risky behaviors go.

Anyway...

Now we have more windows than I can shake a fist at. And we're on the 4th floor, so I can leave them open at night, during the day etc without worrying that someone is going to meander into my place unannounced.

So let me just say, after not being able to open a GD window for so long, I am loving fresh air... while I'm inside! Without fear of being stabbed to death by a night stalker!!

And as it were, its unseasonably warm in DC right now, so its just delightful. Until I start thinking that its due to the effects of global warming, and that my grandchildren will have to wear space-suits on the playground to avoid having skin cancer and growing tails by age 3 1/2 if we keep going at this rate...

But hell, for now, I'm a happy girl.


That's about it for now. On a side note, I'd like to throw this out there: I'm thinking about referring to Daphne as "My Bizo" from now on. Thoughts?

Ummm... Chili Mac for Breakfast...

Here is the scene. Its a little after 10:30AM, I've just woken up and have already done some preliminary e-mail checking etc, Daphne is still asleep in her bed in the other room. I've just pulled some re-heated left-overs out of the microwave and I'm trying my best to enjoy the "5-way Chili Mac" from last nights trip to Hard Times for Wing Night, and type at the same time. A challenge, but if anyone can do it, a Registered Dietitian can do it. After all, we ARE experts in food and nutrition...

We got into DC on Tuesday night, arriving from State College. The trip to Pee Ayyy was unplanned and somewhat last minute, but I think it turned out nicely. But lets start at the beginning.

Loyal readers know that I stopped in Ashland, OR on night one. This was somewhat uneventful, as I simply drove down I-5 all day until I got there. I did make one two stops in Oregon. 1) Barnes and Noble in Portland to pick up some books on CD, and 2) Burgerville for a Hazelnut shake, which was fabulous, though technically it was a "Smoothie" because it was made with frozen yoghurt instead of ice cream. All I wanted was a kid's size shake, but they only do those in boring flavors. A full-on Hazelnut shake while delicious, can be a bit much on a poor souls stomach if you know what I mean...

So the girl at the counter swore that the smoothies were easier to handle. The jury is still out on that one.

So I stayed at a Super 8 because they allow dogs for a small fee, and that was that.

Woke up early and made it to Mountainview, CA to stay with Beth and Tim that evening. It was great to see them, even if it was just for a short night. Beth and I took Daphne to a California Dog Park. Daphne felt hip and trendy. Beth felt normal, as she was finally at the dog park with a real live dog. And she make Sloppy Joes from a recipe that someone gave her at a Bridal Shower that were- no joke- out of this world. Pretty sure I've never used that term to describe any food item with the name "sloppy" in it before.

The next morning I was on my way to Nevada or Utah (whichever I could make it to) via Reno. I crossed over the Sierra Nevada Mts with little in the way of ice or snow, but as soon as the coast was really clear and you could actually start driving again, I got a speeding ticket. I was speeding. And it was in Truckee, CA, so I guess I just have to accept it. But now I can say I was pulled over by a CHiPs officer. Would have been a whole lot more fun if it were Ponch and/or John though.

After Reno I had a decision to make: stay on the slightly longer more northern route on the major interstate (which was advised by mapquest), or go in a straight line to Denver, on a state highway through Nevada...

I probably should have chosen the interstate, even if it was a little longer, but I didn't.

About 100 miles into it, having seen absolutely NO signs of life other than the white steaks across the sky from airplanes that let's face it- Could have been on military training missions about ready to drop dummy bombs on me- I started to panic, as I only had a 1/4 tank of gas, and the cell phone reception was spotty (at best).

A few broken/panicked calls to J (as we will now call my live-in life partner, since he has a super secret job and can't be tracked online...) which had me explaining that I was probably going to run out of gas out in the middle of NO WHERE and would then proceed to shrivel up and DIE, also helped me to learn that there was a town with gas about 50 miles away. He even called them and confirmed that they were open...

But would I make it 50 miles... No.

So by the grace of god, after about 20 miles a tiny little middle-of-no-where motel with a gas pump appears in my line of vision... And it was real!

I practically had to pump the gas manually, but I was happy to oblige, and happy to pay the $3.60 a gallon that they were charging. It was there that I learned that Highway 50 is also nicknamed, "The Loneliest Highway in America" and rightly so. Needless to say, I nearly learned the hard way that when driving in unknown places, fill up at every opportunity.

The gal at the motel/gas pump (it really wasn't a gas station, it was just a pump) gave me a map and tried her best to tell me about each bend and turn in the road that was coming up until the Utah border. Which was actually quite helpful later on when things got dark and icy and really curvy.

Her last words were, "And keep an eye out for cattle, because they're really out there!". The entire area was open range land, which gave me a better appreciation for the Old West, and make me understand that the "cow catchers" on old trains were not in fact, just for show.

I made it to Ely, Nevada that night, which I assumed from its bold type on the map was going to be a thriving metropolis. When I got there, it seemed to me more like a Ronald, WA. Only not conveniently neighboring the bustling Rosyln and CleElum.

But there were a few hotels, a some places to get food, and the next town over in Utah was over 100 miles further, so that was my stop for the night. I stayed at a small but clean/comfortable Best Western, and it was so late when I checked in that the gal at the counter didn't even charge me for Daphne. Gold Star for Ely Nevada!

From there I made it all the way to Denver, which was a great drive until the very end, which had me dealing with the Rocky Mountains at night (I had to pay so much attention to driving, that I couldn't even get my John Denver CD's out!) and navigating unexpected exact-change-only toll roads after I got into town.

It is here that I met up with J, we stayed at his sister and her husband's house and I met a large portion of his family. This was largely a blur, as I was really tired from driving, and trying my best to keep track of everyone. Also by the time, Daphne was starting to give me the "Do we live here now?" eyes every time she got out of the car. We stayed two nights in Denver which was a great rejuvenator, and were back on the road again to Kansas City, KS for the next night.

I ate a lot of beef in Kansas City. On recommendation, it was steaks the night we got into town, and a copious amount of BBQ the next day for lunch. Very tasty, but way too much of everything.

The next day, we were likely still in a Beef-Induced haze, as I had the hair-brained idea that maybe we should drive to Chicago after all! Visit Jennifer, have deep dish.... I wasn't noticing however, that it was already 2PM.

So we both agreed it would be fun, and set out toward Chicago. About 3 hours in, we realized that it was going to be another 9 hours of driving, which wouldn't put us into town until well after midnight, and Jennifer had to work the next day. So with great sadness, we aborted the Chicago mission and pressed on to Indianapolis where we found another Super 8.

J and I both agreed that this had to be the worst hotel either one of us had ever stayed in. Period.

It was a non-smoking room that smelled like an ashtray, with cigarette burns in the sheets, pillow cases and curtains. The sheets were threadbare and yellowish, and the towels were just as bad. If it weren't already 2AM, we likely would have had more energy to get our money back and move on, but at the time, it just seemed like too much work. No Gold Star for Indianapolis.

From there we probably could have made it to DC, but we'd already thought about going to visit Lisa in State College, PA as part-two of the "let's drive to Chicago to see Jennifer and get deep dish!" plan, so we continued toward PA, arriving that night just in time to catch the end of the Golden Globes, and get some cheese steaks. We stayed at Lisa's (yes, Daphne stayed there too- unbelievable!) and had breakfast at the Corner Room the next morning before Lisa had to get to work. There we met Lisa's friends and fellow bloggers Josh and Emily (in real life!) and then got back on the road.

We arrived in DC on Tuesday afternoon, hauled my things up to our place and cleaned out my car. So now here I am... Still surrounded by boxes, but making some headway. We bought some hangers last night, so I'll be able to unpack clothes today and hopefully feel a bit more settled in.

Okay- Daphne is officially awake and giving me "let's please go outside.... now!" nudges. So I'm of to walk around the block with her and get some fresh air.


One of these days I'm going to have to actually get a job and go to work everyday. Until then, I'm going to enjoy these lazy mornings :)

Landed... Finally!

I made it! I'm all the way on the other side, in the "Other Washington." I thought I'd be sprightly and full of vigor, ready to take on the world, but after a week of driving and far too many mediocre audio books, I'm just tired and need an actual night's sleep (free of the ash trayesque odors of the Super 8 rooms that claim to be "non-smoking" though they certainly were, at some point, rooms that housed many, many puffs.)

I've got my first load of integrated laundry (AKA "our laundry") going now, and lots of bags/boxes that await the unpacking process that I hope to tee off tomorrow morning at some reasonable hour.

Daphne is tucked-in to bed, sleeping like she's lived here for years and I am going to follow in her foot steps shortly.

Good night from the east coast, I'll write more soon about my first experiences with co-habitation!

Alpen-G

That's from last weekend's quick trip to the Alps. Or Maybe it was Plain, WA? Regardless, the sledding was fantastic.

Just a little reminder that I'm still here, but I've been a little frazzled with packing/cleaning/trip planning in the last few weeks.

But I'm officially on the road now. Dialing in from the Ashland, OR Super 8 to be specific... They allow dogs, for a very fair price. What can I say, Daphne loves this chain.

Off to grab some take-out at an Applebees-like food establishment. My only obligation for the rest of the evening is to be back by 10PM for the premiere episode (and certainly the most dramatic premiere yet...) of this season's Bachelor....

Ta-dahhhhhh!

It's official: I'm moving! I know it, you know it, the American people know it. Even my employer finally knows it!

Moving to a little town called Washington DC, have you heard of it? I went there a few weeks ago to visit this guy I know. I kind of like him, so we found a really great place to live and I'm heading out on the open road with my dog in about two weeks.

My true plan is to have him support me so I can pursue my true passion: making babies and scrapbooking. But alas, I think I should probably have a job- you know, something to fall back on...

Nope, don't have one lined up yet, which is strange for me. This is the first time I'm moving anywhere that isn't just because of a job. Feels kind of weird, kind of nice- but pretty freaky too. Come to think of it, since I graduated from college, I've never taken any actual time off... Just went straight to work and never really stopped. So maybe this will be a good thing.

The job I really wanted, and thought was a perfect fit is now having "funding issues" where the higher ups are apparently trying to rearrange things to avoid hiring on an additional person. Its in negotiation now, but things don't look good. These are the aspects of the public health world that I'd forgotten all about.... "funding issues."

So, rather than fret about it, I'm just going to enjoy my morning Bloody Mary at my desk at work this morning (yes, there actually are a few things that I will really miss about my current industry!), which will hopefully segue into some libations throughout the weekend that involve the words, "Nog," "toddy," and "rum."

Happy Holidays to all, or "Merry Christmas" if that suits you better. It's all the same to me.

And if you know of anyone who wants to hire a fabulous Registered Dietitian/Stock Broker in the DC Metro area, please be sure to drop my name!

Always Be Cobbling

Ahhhh... big sigh of relief. I have been frantically searching for an online clip of this SNL sketch for the past two weeks since it aired. If you've never seen Glengarry Glen Ross, then you probably won't find it to be comic genius. If you have, you'll likely agree that it is one of the best sketches of all time. ONE of the best- I'd be hard pressed to name a single best sketch. I can think of several that could compete for the spot of worst though...

Okay- on with the show: Enjoy!
http://youtube.com/watch.php?v=b1V3pb3hnRY&search=snl%20alec%20baldwin




(and if you want to watch a few clips of the original, you can see them piece by piece here.

The Dickens Caroler: Friend or Foe?

I’ve noticed lately that there are fewer and fewer things in this world on which I do not have an opinion. The Dickens Caroler concept is one of them. On one hand I love Christmas, Christmas music and all things Christmasy. Their musical quality is generally quite good, and a general admiration for performance art is called for in most social circles. But on the other hand, there’s just something about them that’s a little weird. I often feel as if they should turn the volume down on their stage-friendly facial expressions. And they generally remind me of the girls that used to walk down the halls of Evergreen Junior High singing “Wind Beneath My Wings” in an over-processed three part harmony.


And so my clever reader, I put the ball in your court. Discuss.

Don't worry darlings, mummy is here.

Oh dear, what a dreadful spot of strep throat I've had! Okay- I'm sorry- there was just some part of me that really needed to write in a bad, fake English accent. But yes, I've been sick. Sick to the degree where sitting in front of a computer and typing is just too much. But thanks to the power of antibiotics, and more Advil extra-strength than I've ever taken in my life, I made it through the trenches, and I'm back. I have very little time tonight, but just enough to make three quick comments: 1) Micro-Chenille: Who knew that socks of this persuasion could be so fabulous? 2) "Night sweats" blow. Having a fever in general is pretty hellish. 3) Clean, tired dogs bring me closer to my my own personal heaven. Okay then, off to bed for me. Lots of changes going on in my world. I look forward to the day where I might be able to tell you about them.

The Coffee Dialogs: Part Two

Picking up from where I left off… many moons ago, I’d like to get back to discussing coffee. Specifically I’d like to discuss three items:

Holiday themed paper cups and increased coffee beverage enjoyment: causal relationship, somatic response, or self-fulfilling prophecy? (thanks to Beth for the verbage)

Why I spend so damned much money at Starbucks, and my lame attempts to justify/validate this obscene behavior.

The latest (and possibly most oddly uncomfortable) addition to espresso beverage ordering lingo.

1) I enjoy the red holiday cups at Starbucks. In what some could consider a Pavlovian reaction, I can almost taste Peppermint Mochas with whip and red sprinkles (that while covered by the white plastic lid, do have immeasurable added-holiday-joy value) as soon as I catch a glimpse of a red paper cup. My body most certainly puts out lots of natural “downer” chemicals in attempts to combat the pending arrival of a caffeine stimulus. I remember learning about this in Psych 101 class. The human body (much like the human mind) hates change and likes to maintain homeostasis at all costs. Though a scientific explanation of this process is stored in the back of my brain under “F” for “fuzzy memories,” the general concept does make sense to me. What I can’t understand is why a red cup makes even a plain drip-coffee so much better than the coffee served during the rest of the year in their white cups with green logo. Certainly the red cup can’t cause a better tasting coffee beverage on its own- so what gives? Is it just that I happen to like the “Christmas Blend” coffee beans above all others? Am I just full of Holiday Spirit? I do love Christmas, but really- to the extent that it makes food and drink taste better? Perhaps this is some prehistoric/plane-wandering/get ready for a long, hard winter gene that is making things tastier and telling me to fatten up for the barren season? Or perhaps I’d found the real reason that in my opinion, Seattle’s Best Coffee produces a tastier drip-coffee year ‘round (they have a red logo and accordingly, serve in red cups all year long…)

2) Okay, I get it. Having an intricate coffee order makes people feel important. Clearly a “Grande Double Shot Soy No-Foam Macchiato” is ordered by someone with coffee prowess, while my occasional “Tall Latte” is just for amateurs. I feel pretty fluent in most of the lingo, but I generally stick with a “Tall Drip With Room,” or the above mentioned latte. On special occasions during red cup season, I’ll order a Tall Peppermint Mocha. With Whip. (ummm… candy for breakfast…) But since when did people start throwing in a defined quantity of “pumps” into their drink orders? More often than not, I’m hearing “Grande Two-Pump Sugar-Free Vanilla Non-Fat Latte” or “Tall Triple-Shot Two-Pump Almond Mocha.” Oddly enough, I have yet to hear anyone order anything with one pump. Or three pumps.

Call me old-fashioned, call me a prude (which would be a total misnomer) but can’t we, as a coffee drinking community, come up with a better phrase? One that doesn’t make me feel oddly uncomfortable? Can’t we say “light on the vanilla?” or “Extra almond”? In the universe of coffee vocabulary, I’ve accepted the term “Drip” (and that wasn’t easy), but I don’t think I’m the only human being on earth who wants nothing to do with anything labeled “two pump.” I want no part of it. I’m just glad that I can’t think of a context where anyone could used the term “Two Pump Drip.” That would just be too much.

3) The last think that is vexing me about coffee today is how much money I spend on it. Way too much. The bad part isn’t the actual amount of money I spend, but the lengths to which I have gone to justify this expense as perfectly reasonable, or even a positive aspect of my life. For example: I don’t smoke, so I don’t have to buy cigarettes, which cost much more than daily Starbucks. But sadly, I don’t even know if this is true. I’d have to smoke about a pack a day in order to outspend myself. Because I’ll be damned if I don’t find myself also purchasing sandwiches, scones etc at least once a week there, which sometimes puts me at $10 in a single day at Starbucks. Cripes.

What else… I don’t… play GOLF! So- think of all that money I would spend on green fees/clubs/sporty visors, that instead I can spend on Starbucks. Do you see my trail of ridiculousness? I’m like the dieter who gives him/her self credit for going a whole week with no ice cream: but they never liked ice cream to begin with.

In my head, I came up with a win-win situation: Invest in Starbucks. Kind of a “if you can’t beat them, join them” concept. So I bought some shares. And I’m glad to report that after 8 months, a stock split and the hypothetical capital gains tax that I’d be liable for if/when I sell the stock, I’m just about at break even with how much I’ve spent at the store over the past 8 months. And all along, I’ve been telling myself that its really okay to spend so much at Starbucks, because I’m actually just reinvesting in my company and compunding my investement. Yeah… like reinvesting my dividends… yeah!
Just think where I’d be if I invested the money I would have spent at Starbucks, in Starbucks instead…

And even now, I’m justifying all of this (while taking the last sips my morning Tall Drip With Room) and thinking to myself, “Gina, at least you’re now totally aware of the problem. That’s the first step. One step at a time. Good work on that first step. You deserve a reward. Like a refill….”

Please tell me that I am not the only chronic over-justifier!

And finally, a bonus coffee item that was not part of my original 3: I love that the characters on Gray’s Anatomy are constantly drinking coffee from a paper cup with a cardboard insulator ring (and while I’m at it, I love just about everything about that show). They must have been filming an outdoor scene in the show and keenly noticed that everyone in Seattle drinks coffee from a paper cup. Constantly. It has become an institution. I know some have issues with this. I know it’s not as charming/Euro-coffee-house/environmentally-friendly as a ceramic mug, but it is very Seattle.

Yes, we ARE number 9! But moving on now...

‘Tis the day before Thanksgiving and all through the office, not a creature was working, well, not really working at least. There are shells of people in the office today, but I don’t think I’m alone in the fact that I’ve already mentally checked out for the holiday weekend. I simply cannot accommodate a full workload AND mentally debate about what non-jello/marshmallow/raisin/date containing side salad I will make to replace our traditional Waldorf Salad for tomorrow’s dinner. After much ado, it has been decided: we’ve vote Waldorf Salad off the island (or table as it were). We usually have it at Thanksgiving dinner, because every red-blooded American family needs to have some sort of fruit/raisin/nut-containing cold side dish at Thanksgiving. I’m speculating that this dish for most families contains either jello of some sort, marshmallows, cool-whip and or shredded coconut. There is also a high likelihood of canned fruit cocktail lurking within this beast. It might go by names such as “Heavenly Salad” or “Seafoam,” “Sunshine Salad” or “Raspberry Fluff.”

But does anyone actually enjoy these items for anything other than sentimental value?

I don’t. And I speak for my family in saying, “We don’t.” So we’ve always done Waldorf Salad instead. Similarly, we always do rutabagas in lieu of or in addition to sweet potatoes/yams. However, rutabagas will never be in danger of being expelled from the table. I’m sure Lisaopolis will expand on this at some point, so I’ll let her take the reins on explaining the virtues of this humble root vegetable.


But then the issue was brought up on Monday night at dinner: Do we even really like Waldorf Salad, or do we just make it because Nanny used to make it?

Crack of Whip! Roar of Thunder!! What is this?!? A family revelation!

No one really likes Waldorf Salad either. But we all agree that there needs to be something to replace its cold, crunchy slightly sweet sensations.

I’m thinking of a simple fresh fruit salad. And I’m thinking that a fresh fruit salad would be a good excuse to go down to Pike Place Market this afternoon for some pre-holiday shopping and pre-home-sickness release. I’m envisioning myself going down to the market and chatting with the produce vendors and pretending that I do this every week to buy my fresh produce. Which ideally I would. So what if all I ever do is go to Safeway to buy bags of pre-washed lettuce and the occasional bag of granny smith apples (purchased only for their delicious-to-dip-in-caramel qualities)??

Today I will be the kind of girl who strolls through the market and buys whatever is fresh and catches my eye. Maybe some delicious red seedless grapes are in order? Heck- I don’t even KNOW what kind of fruit-tastic delights are waiting for me….

Here’s what I’m envisioning…


But I’ll probably shop with a wicker basket, and maybe have some birds chirping on my shoulder in manner of Sleeping Beauty!

So in other news: Want to hear something kind of ironic? I need to come up with a writing sample. Details to follow. Something ideally related to child nutrition. Shucks. I’ve probably written more in the last year than I ever have in my life, and I love it. But I have no professional writing samples from the last two years, as the regulations on my current industry esentially prohibit any sort of original thought- especially in writing. We’re… strongly encouraged… to use existing written materials that have been approved my the corporate big brothers and associated legal big wigs. God forbid we put anything in writing that doesn’t have at least 400% of the original word count in associated disclaimers. I’ve essentially learned that whenever I make a statement or a point in writing, I have to spend twice the amount of time, effort and energy then disclaiming what I have just communicated. It’s super neat. No it’s not. Unless you want it to be. But I make no guarantees of its neatness or lack thereof said neatness.

See? I’m gooooood. But what translates well as a CYA method in one industry probably just translates into “Huh!?!” in any other.

So I have no writing to show. I know I’ve HAD writing samples of yesteryear. But when you change jobs, move across states and countries, spill glasses of water on your laptop and THEN have that same laptop stolen, these things have a tendency to vanish, as if they’ve never existed.

I’m in a pickle.



It is very cold and salty in this pickle.
.

The smell of Apples in the air...

This might be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a long, long time.

Other than you of course. Smile you gorgeous beast. Yeah, there it is. Perfection.

Okay, back to the other beautiful thing….



Um um ummmm…. Check THAT out. I love it. Yeah, we raised more money for Habitat for Humanity, which not only resulted in the Cougar Flag being flown over the space needle every day (except twice, when some rich husky dropped a few grand for the daily win) last week, but it got our logo and a "Go Gougs!" on the Space Needle. This is doubly rad becuase the Space Needle, being in downtown Seattle, is in in the heart of Husky-ville. So, this is a nice coming-together of two of my faviorite things about the great State of Washington: Seattle, and Washington State University. If I had a little smilie emoticon, I'd insert it here.

So its pre-game Friday and not a lot of work is being accomplished today because its Apple Cup Friday, a day that is historically reserved for jokes, pranks, tricks, team color-wearing and playing your fight song over PA system of office across the greater northwest.

I have already heard the Huskies, “Tequilla!” and "Bow Down to Washington" (AKA "Bend Over Washington!") played about 7 times over our loud speaker. I have only heard the Cougar Fight Song once, but I am okay with this, as everyone knows that Cougars are much more refined than Huskies, and we don't like to over-do things! So there's that... and I just found the cougar roar file online and plan to play it multiple times throughout the day. Specifically, I want to play it right after I do anything cool today (this could be soooo many different things). Now if only I could find the “And that’s another… COUGAR, FIRST, DOWN!!” file...

Most of you know what a dismal season this has been for our team. But through thick and thin, winning and losing seasons, I firmly believe that it is always great to be a Coug. And the fact that the Huskies have had (what some could consider) an even worse season, doesn’t hurt.

I found this quote on http://www.coug.com/ that summed up my hopes, which are firmly rooted in reality for this Saturday’s game:

“I want to be able to rush the field Saturday with all but one finger in the air shouting "We're number 9, we're number 9!" When you finish first in the Pac-10 they give you roses - what do you get when you finish 9th? I want to find out.”

And you know, I’m almost glad that the Huskies beat Arizona last weekend, because to be honest, it just wasn’t as fun to beat them in the Apple Cup last year when they were winless. I almost felt like we were beating up on the fat kid. It almost made me feel bad. But then I felt like they were intentially robbing me of my post-win gratification. Which would just be so typical.


Go ahead, click it. You know you want to.

Its Monday, and I have nothing to offer for a snappy title. Please accept an IOU.

So I have been MIA for a while. Seems like blogging and jogging are things that are easy to continue not doing once you skip a day or two… Are there any other “ogging” verbs that are easy to skip? Flogging? Nah, who can skip out on a good flogging? Logging? I don’t know, I’ve never logged. But I did know a logger once. Hey, don’t judge, I lived in Longview. Anyway, I apologize to all who have had to wade through these last several days with only useful and pragmatic reading available to them (or “Him/Her” as the case may be. I don’t want to assume that I have plural readership, but a girl can dream…).

I suppose that one dilemma of blogging is the temptation to write all the details of life, while being mindful of the constraints of professional discretion. AKA: I try not to write about work and/or things that affect work. And those things have been renting rooms in my cerebral hotel for the last couple of weeks. I think they might be staying for a few more days, or even weeks, but soon I’ll have to send them eviction notices, as I’d like to get back to focusing on fluff as soon as feasibly possible.

For instance, Starbucks is now serving delicious coffee beverages in their holiday red paper cups. And we all know that the red cup makes all the difference. Starbucks tastes approximately 110% better in a holiday cup than a regular cup. I can’t prove this, but I’m fairly certain of it. AND they’ve come out with a new delicious mint chocolate brownie-like concoction, which expertly balances out the Cranberry Bliss bar, a favorite holiday baked good made famous circa 1999.

I actually have no idea when the Cranberry Bliss bar came out. But wouldn’t it be fascinating of I were able to research this in depth? No? Ah, I see. No really, that’s fine.

Sadly, I have only had metal capacity/vacancy for Big Girl (like “grown-up”, not “plus size”) issues lately. Nothing too heavy, and its all good stuff, not bad, just stuff that zaps a lot of my surplus energy and creativity. And since I’m fairly confident that my laugh lines aren’t going to kill me (contrary to my initial thoughts of doom toward the pending Wrinklegate 2005 Scandal), I think I’ll just allow myself to run with it.

But have faith, I have a feeling that things will settle into some sort of operating mode quite soon, and that the upcoming season of eating, drinking, shopping and Christmas-music-listening will supply me with writing ideas a’plenty.


But one quick little item that I forgot to mention: Anyone know of a cure for a dipping addiction? I seems lately that I’ve found myself in a bit of a food jag, and a new one. As a background item, sometimes I get stuck in food jags- eating the same thing for weeks on end. Potstickers, Subway Cold-Cut Combo Sandwiches, Pickles, Oreo cookies, BBQ Ribs (that one was weird, it only happened twice, but each time I pretty much ordered take-out BBQ ribs every night for a week) and English Cucumbers have been repeat offenders in the past. But this time: Anything that I can dip into something else. I’ve gone through about 3 acres worth of raw carrots/celery with ranch dressing in the last couple of weeks, and now I’m hitting green apples and caramel dip pretty hard. Lord help me if I get close to a chicken nugget before this thing passes. I worry that with Satsuma Mandarin season nipping at my nose that I might have to juggle TWO food jags at a time, and I just don’t know if I’ll be able to manage. Pray for me.

Dangit! I forgot the Blog!

Well, I didn't forget about it so much as...got out of the loop. But really, there isn't to much to tell about about my life in times. I would like to comment that I am loving the "sometimes all you need after a vacation, is another vacation" commercials for travelocity. Or maybe its expedia? Hum. So while they are entertaining commercials, perhaps not so good at branding. But my brain is all tapped out of anything else to say this week. Hum...

Boo!

Happy Halloween to all! It just dawned on me the other day how much I love Halloween. I think I used to like it for the candy, and the being able to stay up a little later than normal on a school night aspects. But recently I’ve discovered just how much I enjoy dressing up. It’s the only time of year where an fully-functioning and responsible adult can dress up like a complete freak and go to work like usual. Come to think of it, I think we need more excuses to dress up throughout the year- maybe just make President’s Day a costume-optional holiday? Or perhaps something in summer? The elite group of Cabin Creekers in Easton Washington take dressing up for the 4th of July “parade” quite seriously, yet how many hundreds of thousands of Americans don’t have this luxury?

Please, write your senators today.


So…. Comments heard today so far:

“I see. Yes. Well what we’d need to address first is your overall asset allocation, specifically how you are positioning your fixed-income in this rising interest rate environment…” Spoken by a woman in a full-on witch costume complete with very scary make-up.

-and-

"Right, while that may be true, I’m concerned that you’re not taking a global perspective on the current energy crisis. There’s a lot more to consider than just the price you’re paying at the pump…” from the fake-beard covered mouth of a man dressed as one of the 7 dwarves.

Excellent. I love this day. I love that while many in the office don’t dress up at all, the ones who do go all the way.

Today, I am Bird Flu. I’m wearing pajamas, a robe with Kleenex in the pockets and I’m sporting a Parrot Hat. The parrot is wearing a face mask (made popular across Asia by 2004’s SARS virus). I’ve had to put a few “Quarantine” stickers on my robe to help people “get it.”

And the best part about Halloween is that it usually entails a party, which means yet another occasion to dress up in another costume (especially if you subscribe to the "just add 'slutty' to any character and make it a costume" theory, like "Slutty Girl Scout, Slutty Cop, Slutty Nurse, etc. Can't very well wear those ones to work). Saturday at Eric’s 2nd annual Halloween Bash, I followed last years theme of dressing as a famous red head. Last year I was Lindsey Lohan. This year I took it back a few years, threw in one Cuban-American love interest and was Lucy.

Lucy and Ricky. It worked. Though I admit, I did use a temporary hair dye to turn the red up a few notches. It was almost glowing. I was concerned while I was teasing my hair and gluing on my fake eyelashes that I was starting to look more like a drag queen than a screw-ball redhead, but I think I kept it under control.

So here are the pictures:


Why is it that “Lucy, you’ve got some ‘splaining to dooooo” never stops being funny?

So, where is Little Ricky after all?


A full body shot so you can see Ricky’s suit and my shoes that I got at Payless for $7.00, that I fully intend to wear in “real life”


A close up of the hair, that was more of an abyss. Someone asked me if it was a wig. Nope, just really teased. Lindsey was Little Red Riding Hood.


The Real Thing

Several years ago I was Daphne at a costume party, so now I’m starting to wonder if I might run out of red heads to dress as in the future. Perhaps I’ll have to recycle a few ideas… God willing, I’ll never have to resort to Annie. And God willing, I’ll be able to control myself around copious amounts of candy in the office today to prevent all of my teeth from rotting out spurring an premature need for dentures.

Photo’s of Bird Flu to follow.

Gaysploitation

LOS ANGELES -
George Takei, who as helmsman Sulu steered the Starship Enterprise through three television seasons and six movies, has come out as a homosexual in the current issue of Frontiers, a biweekly Los Angeles magazine covering the gay and lesbian community.

How do you know that your career is beyond past-tense? Hum… I’m guessing its when you decide to out yourself and reap the benefits of once again being embraced by a community of followers and getting fan mail. I mean really, if I were this guys partner of 18 years, I might find myself asking:

“Darling, so where was I when you were in your Starship Enterprise hay-day? I guess you didn’t need us then…”

which might even lead into accusatory:

“Okay, great. I see how it is. I only exist in your life when it’s convenient for your career!?! Is that the way its going to be??”

Which would naturally be followed with:

“What about MY career George? Did you ever think about how difficult it was for ME to always have to go solo to my engineering firm’s holiday parties??”

And end with a passive-aggressive:

“Were you even going to discuss this with me first? I thought we were a team! By the way, your weird voice has creeped me out for 18 years!!”

-end scene-

Anyway…. I’m going to call it gaysploitation. I’m so flippin’ proud of myself for making up a new word. I hope it becomes trendy and “it” and “now” –and I hope I can somehow capitalize on it…

Defined: The exploitation of ones homosexuality to renew interest in a celebrity career that has by all accounts, jumped the shark many, many moons ago. Examples include: Anne Heche and the more recent George Takei, AKA Sulu of TV’s Star Trek.

Do you want a ticket...

To the GUN SHOW?!???

Ah, that joke just never stops being funny… to me at least.

I’m glad my teaser photo yesterday had the desired effect to illicit comments like “What?!? I thought you were a tree hugger??” I always like to keep you all guessing!

So it all started with a hypothetical discussion about gun ownership:

J: I want to have a gun in my house.

G: Are you insane? Why ever would you do such a thing? I don’t like guns. In fact, that might even be a deal-breaker for me.

J: What is this crazy-talk woman? Have you ever even seen a real gun before?

G: Do I LOOK like a shooter?

J: Gosh!

G: Fine!

Both: Okay, want to go for a bike ride? Yay!

Enter the neighbor; a retired Marine helicopter gunner/retired sheriff’s department guy (are they called deputies? Officers? Cops??). This is the guy who has every power tool known to man, (including a totally sweet miter saw, which I have to admit, made installing laminate flooring both a pleasure and an honor.) He’s just the nicest most helpful person in the world. Always offering to lend a helping hand (or miter saw, as it were) AND his wife makes really good cookies that are offered in abundance.

This guy teaches gun safety classes now (when he’s not organizing his garage or going on walks around the neighborhood with said cookie-making wife) and he offered to share some of his know-how with me. (True to form with his super helpful nature).

I just ran a google images search for “grandfather and gun” to see if I could find a graphic depiction of someone who was both grandfatherly and a sporting a weapon, to give you a visual idea of who I was talking about, but this was all I could find. Not really on the right track at all, but who doesn’t love a top hat?



Okay- So we went over to his garage for a tutorial on guns and amo. And safety. Lots to learn. I did a lot of smiling and nodding. Lots of caliber, millimeter, trigger, hammer, dual action, automatic v. semiautomatic talk. Lots of “Uh huh’s” from me.

Onward to the North Whidbey Sportsmen's Association shooting range (which today at least, would have to be a “sportsperson’s” shooting range).

There were two other groups there, they were shooting clay pigeons with riffles. Not us, we brought the hand guns only. I mean really, how am I going to learn how to “bust a 9” unless I well, bust a 9.?

As we were getting started, after the first few shots, I looked out beyond our targets (which were not very far away- actually, they were pretty damned close: I’d like to consider myself a natural sharp-shooter, but really, even I needed some “Ladies tees”). About 50 yards out from where we were standing, at ground level (the range is dug down about 5+ feet so your bullets doing just going flying willy-nilly into the open woods…) was a young deer. Just eating some grass, looking at us, and enjoying the sound of bullets cracking through the air. He was a boy-deer. Of course. If he were a human boy, I bet he’d be the kind of boy who lit of fire crackers in his hand and threw them at people. Dumb-ass.

You can kind of see him, but his coat is on the cutting edge of camouflage technology.


So we shot guns. And I learned about how they work and how to use them. I remember the basics, but still wouldn’t chose the have one on my own. But I feel somewhat okay with the idea of having one in my domicile. Because truth be told, when it comes to protection, Daphne isn’t nearly as vicious as she looks.

Y'all are just too nice

Thanks for the supportive comments about Lefty, my left eye which is taunting me with fine lines and signs of aging. I'm trying to drink more water (mint tea actually, as its the only thing that keeps me from coughing all day lately- have a bit of a cold) and I got a tiny bottle of somethingorother from Clinique this weekend that had the word "eye" in the product name, and it has SPF, so I figure it can't hurt. Unless I get it IN my eye. In that case actually, it would hurt quite a bit...

Anyway- I need to post about my weekend fun, frolic and political platforms (specifically, my new, "I'll try it before I judge it" policy) but can't seem to find a quiet moment in which to compartmentalize my thoughts for you all. So for now, I'll just leave you with a teaser photo:



Story coming soon...

Look into my eyes... deeper...you are getting sleepy...

Okay, I have to start by saying: I’m not objected to getting older. As I’ve mentioned before, I think I’m getting better and better with each passing year. BUT- I couldn’t help but notice, that when I look through recent pictures, I seem to be on the advanced track for signs of aging. Specifically, wrinkles around my eyes. On their own merits, I don’t really mind the fine lines. But when I realize how quickly they are becoming less and less “fine,” I get a bit concerned and start thinking that maybe spending $50 on a half-ounce jar of wonder serum sold by someone the a lap coat and a GED at the mall might not be such a bad idea after all.

I’ve always had dry skin, which seemed to be a good thing as a teen and early adolescent, because I never had to deal with a big acne problem. However: dry skin comes back to bite you in the butt because apparently you really need to take care of it as soon as you hit, oh, 25 or so. But I haven’t been doing such a good job of this I guess.

Behold! Yet another photographic essay; this time of "Lefty," my left eye!

Here’s Lefty in college:

This is just a cropped, close-up of the picture of the one I took of the composite photo (featured in my WSU Homecoming post). It’s not the clearest photo, so perhaps this isn’t a good baseline for comparing apples to apples, but it’s the best I can do under the “I didn’t have a digital camera back then” circumstances.

While it’s a bit fuzzy, there are no visible signs of fine lines/wrinkles.


Jump forward about 9 years to May 2005: This was taken at Lindsey’s birthday Party. Not bad, but I think I had more fine lines than the average 26 year old:



Hop ahead again 4 months to this past September. This is Lefty after enjoying some cake at a wedding in Oak Harbor: It now officially looks like I have a bear claw in the corner of my eye:



Here’s one shot from last weekend on Friday evening in Pullman, the night we got into town: The bear claw has grown and blended into a nice flowing wave. I AM a water sign, and I have been swimming more lately, but I’m not a fan of these waves:


Now, here’s the one that made me freak out in the first place. This is Lefty the morning of the football game in Pullman last weekend:


Yes, that really is MY eye, not my grandmother’s.


I couldn’t help but think, ‘Do my eyes really look like that?!?” and “Hum, maybe I shouldn’t smile so much,” and “I wonder if I would have nicer looking eyes if I weren’t laughing 98% of the time?” So I figured I could cut back on laughing AT other people, but laughing WITH other people was not something I wanted to eliminate, or even cut back. So to be fair to myself, I looked closer at the last picture, and blew it up to the size that you’re now seeing. And then I remembered how I went out and had (more than) a couple of beers the night before. And how I left my eye make-up remover at home and had the previous day’s remnants of mascara still lingering around my eyes… And that made me feel a little better. I love excuses…

And after all, when I’m not smiling, I’m more or less okay. Here’s a picture of me at Beth’s wedding last month. It was a rare shot where I had a neutral expression on my face, so I wasn’t in my normal squinty smile:


I can still see the fine lines, but they’re not bad. I can live with them. I might even learn to love them.

But am I still going to spend WAY too much money this weekend at the Clinique counter on some little bottle(s) of wonder serum? Unfortunately, all signs point to yes.

Welcome to the world inside my head. It's quite fluffy these days.

My premeditated fun activity of the day today was going to be looking for a "Stay Golden" T-shirt online to see if I could find the same one the girl at The Coug was wearing in Pullman. I did find one, but it was at a site called bust.com, in their "Boobtique", which is essentially a collection of trendy silly t-shirts in women’s cuts (what, are they all tight? Best be sure to get one size bigger than normal...). Made me wonder why companies don’t court more business from people who are online shopping while at work. I mean really, who’s going to feel comfortable with their network administrator looking over a purchase at bust.com’s boobtique??? I think a better idea would be to have say, an e-bay or amazon.com type or retailer, but call its website "2005/2006 biannual cash-flow statement of Omnec Inc." They might get a fair amount of business from cubicle dwellers. Just an idea.

But anyway- I bought the t-shirt (in a size L instead of an M), and it should be arriving in a few days. Very excited, but I am dealing with feeling slightly ashamed for making a purchase at a "Boobtique."

I’m not sure why I have a fascination with the Golden Girls, other than the fact that it has one of the best theme songs of all time, and it was on Saturday Nights when I was growing up, which was one of the few nights that I was allowed to watch TV. I also really liked Empty Nest which followed the show, but mostly because of the dog. I think his name was Bacchus. No, that was my 3rd grade teacher’s dog’s name. The dog on the show was named Dreyfuss. (God I love the internet!) The show also starred Christy McNichol, though at the time, I really didn’t realize how cool she had been in her teen/child-star years. I liked her character, and I always thought she would be a cool older sister. Even though I have two real-life older sisters who are, by all accounts, cool enough on their own merits.
Wait… now I remember, Empty Nest was a spin-off of Golden Girls. That’s right… I think Blanche, in all of her lasciviousness, wanted to date the main character- what was his name anyway? Richard? Harry? He was a pediatrician though, I am certain of that.

Flash bulb moment: Here’s a great use of "Jump the shark:"

The TV show Empty Nest jumped the shark when the original Dr’s office closed and they started working out of a neighborhood clinic. Just took the show in too much of a public health direction. Sheesh. No one wants to see doctors treating kids on Medicaid, we just want to sit at home on Saturday nights and watch lovable doctors treat upper-middle class kids who are covered by their financially secure parents’ insurance plans. Duh…

Dangit. My mind is now racing with late-80’s, early 90’s nonsense. I was going to write today’s post about the new trend off silly logo t-shirts. I was going to pose the question of:

Are printed T’s of ’05 what flannel button-downs were to ’95?

Well, okay, I was originally going to write about libraries and how great they are. How much I love them, and how much I’m reminded of this every time I step into one- which always makes me think, "I should come here more often!" but then I never seem to…

I promise, it was going to be very thoughtful and well-worded. Honest, I swear! It was going to counter last nights post about going back to Pullman for homecoming where I essentially did nothing to rekindle, or even maintain normal brain-cell activity. Dangit! And now here I am itching to talk more about Golden Girls. And its spin-off, Empty Nest. And you know what’s worse? Are you sure you want to know? After that, I want to talk about the spin-off of the spin-off. Yeah, I want to talk about "Nurses." I might even want to do a whole post on Park Overall. Where is she now anyway?

Have there been any successful spin-offs since Frasier? Though "Joey" is in its second season, should we really count it/consider it "successful"?

Can you imagine how successful I would be if I didn’t have these questions running through my head all day? But I guess this brings me back full-circle, because at this point I need to say: Thank God for libraries, where I can come on my lunch break and use the internet to release these thoughts from my mind. Is that actually healthy? Or does releasing the thoughts just make room for new ones?

Is blogging like milking your mental cow? If you keep milking/blogging does your cow/mind keep producing milk/(what most reasonable people would consider) random and inconsequential thoughts? Is there a way to wean myself off of blogging so that these thoughts will gradually dwindle as my mind reduces supply in reaction to a reduced demand?

If I quit blogging cold-turkey will I experience mental engorgement and possible mental infections?

Should I make a t-shirt that reads: "Milk Your Mental Cow: Blog" ??

Cripes. I think I need to go to grad school or something, as this is what happens when you are not mentally exhausted on a routine basis. Such unguided thought pollution can’t be good for the environment.

For Better Or Worse, We Coug'd It

For a definition of what it is to, “Coug it” please see Erik’s blog at http://gus008.blogspot.com/2005/08/cougn-it.html . So, when all was glorious and right with the world, and we were up by 3+ touchdowns against UCLA, I took a photo of the score board as proof that we really were winning.
I’m glad I took the photo, because of course we blew this lead entirely and went into overtime, where we promptly lost the damned game. Damnit!

But we still had a “moderate to high” amount of fun, so all was certainly not lost.

But before I recap MY weekend, I want to spend some time talking about my friend Jennifer, who is by all accounts, the paradigm example of an “All-American Girl.” Some might even venture to call her, “America’s Sweetheart.” Imagine a little blue-eyed, blonde girl who looks sporty and chic in a baseball cap, and who can verbally throw-down when it comes to just about any recognized sport in the whole wide world. Well, maybe not the whole wide world, but if it’s a sport sanctioned by the NCAA, chances are quite good that she can hold her own. It should be noted that she is also an astute horsewoman.

I believe Miss Jennifer grew up in Issaquah, WA. I’m positive that she went to high school with me in Sammamish WA, college at Washington State, and her parents now live in Daphne Alabama. (No, no relation to my coonhound, but I’m pretty sure they moved there because of the pretty name). After a brief stint in Bellevue, WA she now lives in Chicago. With parents near the gulf coast, roots in the ‘burbs of Seattle, and a primary residence in the Heartland, Miss Jennifer mentioned to me the other day that she didn’t really know where her “home” was. And to that I say: Jennifer, where ever a ball is thrown, hit, caught or dunked, wherever there are bases stolen or yards rushed; THAT is your home. You are at home in another dimension – the dimension of sports. Own it. Love it. Share your gift with the world! Or at least develop a Euro-pop line of clothing for pre-teens called “SportLife Jenni Vohn” (and say that with a thick German accent). And dot the “i” with a star!!

So: Why the long intro about Jennifer? Why not just jump to the good times and shenanigans about this weekend?!? Well if you must know, Jennifer was a member of an elite secret-squirrel team who flew the WSU flag over the air-waves in the background of ESPN’s College Game Day programming this weekend, during coverage of the USC/Notre Dame game. That’s right friends, you are that much closer to fame JUST by association.

For those not in the know, the Cougar flag (Ole’ Crimson) has been making appearances at College Game Day broadcasts since the beginning of last year. It seriously travels to every single broadcast, no matter the game, conference location etc. While it is not flown by the same person, it IS the same flag. Talk about your grassroots marketing efforts! From what I can tell, this all started because some fans wanted ESPN to cover Cougar games, and is in no way officially sanctioned by the university.

So this weekend ESPN College Game Day was in South Bend Indiana at Notre Dame, and Jennifer et al received the flag and made the trek out to wave the flag with pride. What an honor! What a Coug! What a gal!

Okay, so onward we go:

I woke up Friday morning with an little extra lilt in my step, not only because my super-fly boyfriend was coming to town, but also because we were going to leave for Pullman that afternoon, where everything is magical and covered in gold. Okay, where everything is fun and covered in sticky beer.

The ride over was characterized by about 6 hours of intensive singing and karaoke-style dramatic presentation. Added to the mix were some nice air instrument moves. Highlight: learning that J is quite possibly the best air drummer in the world. Even a little better that ME (which few can say). And he can twirl his sticks. Throw a couple of red checkers on the soul-mate scale.

But add a black checker on the soul-mate scale for a scary devil eyebrow…

Spooky!

Friday night highlights were checking into the Palouse Inn in Moscow, ID which is one of the few remaining hotels that has actual keys. The hotel kind of reminded me of the hotels where the drug busts would go down in the TV show Hunter. I think the doors were made of balsa wood. It’s a good think I didn’t lose the keys, but if I did, I surely would have been able to kick down the door with ease. But the rooms were clean, and, well, they had vacancies.

Went to the Coug on Friday evening and it was packed as ever. Our friend Bob now OWNS the place, which is fabulous, and it was great to see that some key names are still on the walls:

Here’s Erik AKA “Gus”

And here’s a little shout out to your favorite sisters (can one make a shout out to one’s self?)

Sharpie Marker on varnished bathroom stall wall. This work was compiled between the years 1993 and 2000. Artist of origin are believed to be not one, but two Hund-o-matic sisters. Original base work of “HundlXX” is believed to have been created upon the eve of graduation of a Miss Lisaopolis circa 1993, while the later addition of “Gina and Lisa -à ‘93 and ‘00” is believed to have been added to the work in the summer of Y2K when the younger matriculate experienced a Greek-letter sorority function referred to as, “Open to Close.”

My mission of the night: find a young, unsuspecting KD and acquire the house door code. Mission accomplished. Door codes for your old sorority houses are KEY if you really want to be known as the obnoxious alumnae who break into the house, make a lot of noise, let their boyfriends/husbands eat bagels, and run around the house looking at old composite pictures while sighing, “oh my gawd…. I can’t believe we’re in the basement now!!”

So we did that for a while, which was fun. And here’s a little composite picture joy for you all. This was from my sophomore year, when I was still fairly uptight and thought many things like grades, rules, and policies were very, very important.

(FYI, this picture was in the TV room; we’re not the basement… yet)

And no, we didn’t really “break in,” as there were some girls up hanging out in the foyer and living room. I was delighted to find them both lovely and hospitable. Very nice, upstanding young ladies. But really- who would expect anything less?

The next morning we set out for Pullman, sporting our crimson for all to see. I am very pleased with my purchase of a “WSU Girls Rock” t-shirt from the University Book Store here in Bellevue. Very pleased indeed. I was also quite pleased to see Jose in a Cougar Tee. Nearly brought tears to these eyes.

The game was fabulous at first, it felt like the stock market in 2000. We could do no wrong. It was so easy to be winning big! And I ran into this guy in the end zone and had to snap a shot of his fabulous couture hat! Bravo to the craftsmanship!

We decided to make a smart move by leaving in the third quarter with the hopes of still being able to get a table at a restaurant that wasn’t Beta Dogs. We got into the Sella’s with out much of a line, but I’ll be damned if we didn’t loose the game after all. Ah well. They sold Erik and J 64-ounce beers, so I had bigger things to worry about. Like my potential life-partner who was rapidly becoming an adult-sized toddler who badly needed Ritalin. And who felt it necessary to bite my arm. And draw on his own face with crayon…

But my calzone was good, so made things a little better.

Then for the sake of creativity, we went back to the Coug for a while (I know- weird!), before heading out and about on the greater campus/Greek row neighborhood. There was a girl wearing quite possibly the best T-shirt I’d ever seen: I don’t know if you’ll be able to see it very well on here, but it says, “Stay Golden.” I hope you can make out the graphic.

Finished up the night by taking another stroll around the Kappa Delta house, and heading to a “live-out” party down the street. It was somewhat fun, but reminded me that maybe I wouldn’t pay any amount of money to go back to college after all. Seeing all of the kids who so obviously haven’t figured out much of life yet made me feel…kind of happy. I’d forgotten what it feels like to not be comfortable in your own skin. I miss college, I miss those crazy, seemingly consequence-free days where the BIG issues where keeping your house off of social probation, getting a “good house” to do homecoming with, figuring out which coupons to use for pizza that night, avoiding MIP’s etc… The kicker is, at the time, one can never realize how superficial those “big deals” really are. I still don’t know very much about the big issues, but I’m figuring out more and more each day. If I could only get the years to slow down a bit…

But speaking of Big Deals, Laguna Beach is on, and I just heard a preview that LC and Jason are going to hook up??!!? I’ve gotta go, I can’t miss THIS!!

I promise I'll edit this for typos etc tomorrow when I can focus.

My day with Wy....

That's what I call her now. A lot of people know her as "Wynonna Judd" but to me, she's just Wy. Because now we're best friends forever. That's what getting an autograph and making small talk with someone makes you right?!?

But first- some housekeeping issues in response to some recent comments:

1) I think this was answered already, but "Jumping the Shark" mean- going past your peak, specifically in the entertainment industry. It's all down hill from that point on. In my last entry, I had a link on the phrase, click on it. It will take you to its definition in the urban dictionary. Now I will use Jump the Shark in a sentence: Growing Pains was a great show, but it really jumped the shark when Leonardo DiCaprio joined the cast.

2) Dude, I totally remember the Peanuts character glasses that you could collect from McDonalds (or was it Dairy Queen??) They ruled.

3) No, Al Gore didn't REALLY invent the internet. I was being a smart-ass. Look into "Al Gore" and "Information Super Highway". I'm all about mid '90's pop culture. Why aren't you?

Oh that's right, because you're too busy pooping.

Okay- and now... ON WITH THE GOOD STUFF...

I went to see Wynonna sing with the Seattle Symphony last night and it was actually my first time to Benaroya, or to a performance by the Seattle Symphony at all for that matter. SO- if they agreed to play with her as an outreach to the no-orchestra crowd, it certainly worked on me. I tried to take some pictures, but pictures weren't allowed (I learned this after taking a picture of Erin in our 3rd deck seats before the show started and getting scolded by an usher...oops).

The show started promptly at 7:30, when the conductor came out and struck up the band. He was whiley and conducted music not so much with a wand, but with his whole body. He reminded me of the guy in The Phantom Toll-Booth who conducts the sunrise. He made me want to be a conductor in my next life.

It was Wynonna's first time playing with an orchestra, and it was enough to make even a 20 year veteran stage performer nervous. But it was kind of nice to see her a little nervous, and a little unchoreographed. It was more spontaneous that way. There were a few instances when she turned to the conductor and said something to the effect of, "Okay, you can start now." Which reminded me that she is normal. She sang I'd say...oh, about 50% of her own songs, or The Judds songs, and the other half were old standards, jazz or rock classics. There was one gospel song at the end which really showcased her two back-up singers and gave them a chance to stretch their legs- or vocal chords as it were.

I'd have to say my favorite moments of the show were when she sang "Is It Over Yet" (which is really a very emotionally draining song when you see it performed live), and when she sang, "At Last." She did a great job with this song, but when it was almost over, she just stopped, turned around and said to the conductor, "Wait- wait... I'm sorry, can we start over? Its just not quite right. This is Seattle, this is big time. I can do better." And they started all over again. And MAN, I thought it was fine the first time, but she put every thing into round two and it made me all melty inside.

My least favorite part of the evening was when she really showed that she'd never sang with a symphony before by leaving the stage at the end of the night without acknowledging the musicians OR the conductor. Faux Pas, Wy. Give them a nod next time. They kicked ass and deserved some serious credit. But even pro's make rookie mistakes when trying new things I suppose.

She was a gracious hostess for the evening, but not to be confused with humble. She was very proud, and very aware of her presence, which is good. Modesty isn't always the best policy, and if you're a Judd, why bother with it? When shouts of "We love you Wynonna!!!" were heard from the crowd, her response was, "I know you do. That's why I'm here."

So needless to say, I was hooked on the flava' and by about 10AM today, I knew that there was no way I wasn't going to go see her sign books at the Costco downtown. So I excused myself from work for a couple of hours. I really should have asked her if she needed to open an IRA, then I would have felt a little less guilty about leaving work in the middle of the day. After waiting in line for about an hour and a half, (all the while making nice new friends with my line mates) I finally got to see her up close and personal. The book signing was very efficient and organized to the extent that we were all probably being herded like cattle, but I don't think anyone felt processed or rushed at all. In fact, I not only got to have a picture taken with her, but also had plenty of time for small talk while she signed my items. Here's the transcript:

Line organizer guy, after asking my name: This is Gina

Wy: Ginaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!! (in her low, velvety voice)

Me: Hi! (as she starts signing) Wow- your ring is beautiful!! (it was eye-catchingly fabulous- hadn't seen a celebrity wedding ring up close and personal before and WOW)

Wy: Well thanks! I figured I plan to wear it for the rest of my life, so I might as well have something that I really like.

Me: Yeah, That's a pretty good theory.

Wy: (Laughs politely) yeah, well, I didn't used to have all of this.

Me: Right. Well, I always say, Go Big or Go Home. (not being able to think of anything else witty)

Wy: (Pausing from her signing to look up at me) Go Big or Go Home? I've never heard that. I like it. I might have to use that.

Me: Well, I sure hope you do. I'd have to tell all my friends that you got it from me (now I'm blushing... she's continuing to sign, moves on to the DVD). Oh, that ones for my sister, she's going to love it.

Wy: Well, you tell your sister that we really missed having her here today.

Me: I will. And I've got to ask you... How much did it ROCK to play with Anne and Nancy Wilson?

Wy: (eyes widen) Oh, totally! Anne was supposed to be at the show last night, but she couldn't make it at the last minute.

Me: Whoa! That would have been awesome!

Wy: I probably would have pee'd my pants!

Me: Well thanks so much, and great show last night!

And that my friends, is how it all went down. How someone could be so calm cool and collected after signing and small-talking with 200+ fans, who all want deep down to tell you their life story and become your best friend (like me!!) is beyond me. If it were me, I'd probably have been crank-pot central by fan number 25. But she is a real pro. And not that I ever thought otherwise, but I'm a fan for life.

When DID Tom Cruise Jump the Shark?

I sure don't know, but I have a sneaking suspicion that is was not too long after this scene was shot.

Gosh, remember him back in the day? Back when the world didn't know how short he really was, or that he was a couch-jumping lunatic?

So I guess I'll answer my own question in saying, I don't know or care when Tom Cruise jumped the shark, but Maverick (Lt. Pete Mitchell) will have a special place in my heart forever.


And just to make you feel old, kids in college today were born after Top Gun was released. Yeah.

Hyperactive hunter/getherer instincts, or a true love of crap (bric-a-brac, knickknacks, knickknackery, and whatnot)??

Three words: Hard Rock Café.


What do those words remind you of? If you’re like me, (and for your sake, I hope you’re not) they remind you of super cool T-shirts that could be worn with pride while telling the world, “Yeah, I went to London, and I spent my time in an overpriced burger franchise that defines commercialism and all that is wrong with American culture. Sweet!”

So thought it would be fun to make a “Top 10 List Of Things I Am Ashamed To Admit I Collected Back In The Day”

But all I could thing of were Hard Rock café shot glasses, and Beanie Babies.


I also collected rocks, My Little Ponies, and pictures of baby animals, but I’m not ashamed nor am I embarrassed by that. Because rocks, and little animals (ponies or otherwise) are still cool. In my opinion at least.

Thought bubble: Come to think of it- is Hard Rock Café even in business anymore? If so, I wonder how they’re denim jacket sales are doing now that Planet Hollywood is gonzo??


In Summary…


Good: Ummmm...pretty....


Oooooo... I want to brush they're sheeny manes…

So nice!!! I want to hug the baby tiger! (before it turns in to a potentially man-eating carnivore)


Bad…

Boooooo.... hissssssss.



A hex on you little bear! You and and all of your bean-bag friends who ate up all of my time and money!!!


I can’t be the only one who collected stupid things can I? Friends, please tell me that I’m not alone. And if you know anyone who wants to buy about 50 Ty Beanie Babies (all in mint condition of course…) let me know. AND if you can use the words "knicknackery" and "bric-a-brac" and "whatnot" in the same sentence, then you get extra double letter, tripple words score points!!

THANK YOU AL GORE, FOR INVENTING THE INTERNET!

If I just came out and said, “You need to check out this terribly cheesy web site ASAP!” You might start to wonder how I ever came across it.

Someone at work today was saying that he had Barry Manilo’s “Mandy” stuck in his head. Which of course got it stuck in MY head. But I only knew the first few lines of the chorus, and when all you have is “Oh Mandy, you came and you… did…somethingorother…” it is MOST unsatisfying.

So I ran a Google search for “Mandy” and “Barry” and got this site. I was delighted to see that I’d found a site that didn’t just have the lyrics, but actually played the song as the site’s background music!

Vow! I love the pansies in the background! Lyrics, floral background, angelic photos of some sort of woodland-dwelling fairy? Bravo! So of course I had to check on the “Back” button… Where I found a whole GARDEN of tender love songs. All played in AM-radio-quality on via my internet browser!

So I hope you enjoy this site as much as I have. Some of the must-see/hear songs, in my opinion, are Lay Lady Lay, Hero, Leather and Lace, Do ‘Ya, In My Room, and The Rose. Please note that I chose these primarily based on the photo/color scheme that was used to visually support each song.

I have a feeling that I might be exploring more of what Lady Jaye has to offer throughout the weekend. Hummm…. But suddenly I just feel like breaking out the lavender essential oils, bathing in bees wax soaps, maybe burning some herbal candles, and curling up with a green tea, a wool blanket, and a self-help book…

(If anyone out there knows how I can pipe these songs over the web on MY site, please, please, PLEASE let me know! I'd love to share some love songs with all of you. It would be my own little way of saying, "Thanks for stopping by my site!")