This is unimportant.

Things that remind me of Thanksgiving (other than turkey):
the sound of a football game playing on the radio or on TV. (the end)

Things that remind me of Christmas:
red
evergreens
the smell of evergreens
truffles
the smell of snow
cold noses
piano jazz
oranges/smell of oranges



Things I want/need:
one of those giant yoga/exercise balls. Like this:

Only not grey, because that's lame.

All the Twilight movies. Yeah, I like them. Whatchu gonna do about it?

A whole hellofalot of shelving for my books and shoes.

I can't remember what else at the moment.

What is love?*

I need to write, I think. I have not been writing.

Sara's home. She and Brian came over tonight to provide moral support while I did my taxes. It was great. It was so great.

Earlier today Kelly came over to talk, and I ended up providing moral support while she talked to her boss and ended up almost certainly quitting her job. She'd planned to do that in person, but it didn't work out that way. It was so great. We went to Carytown to celebrate, had frozen yogurt, walked around. I saw some shoes I've been wanting in a shop window and ran in to try them on--they're so new that there aren't any reviews anywhere online--and they fit pretty well. I may go back for them.

It was great.

Sunday Jack and I came home from Camp, I jumped in the shower, and I ran over to Sara's parents' house so we could all take the "limo" to meet Sara and Brian at the airport. The limo turned out to be more of a party bus, and Ami and I got tipsy on pink sparkling sake on the way to the airport (I essentially never drink, so this took...one soda-sized bottle of the stuff). We hid in the bus to surprise Sara, and when she saw us, she screamed. Group hug. Utterly unflattering pictures. Slightly drunken shopping at Whole Foods. Dinner of sushi and burgers and grilled zucchini back at the house. It was great.


And Camp...Camp was wonderful. It almost always is, when I let it be so. I had a hard time with that "let it be" issue over the weekend--I had a really weird, initially extremely unsettling and upsetting experience with some crazy guy from POF last week, and when I got to Camp it still had me in a heavy, black mood. I had to remind myself a lot to just drop it, but though I needed a lot of reminding, that reminding helped. I had had plans to corner Victoria and vent about this guy, and she was interested in the story, but she'd brought friends with her and felt the need to play hostess, and I didn't know what to say anyway. I was exhausted on several levels, and I guess I sulked for a while, but eventually I let go of my plans (always a good option) and hung out with Liz in the kitchen, talked to Jim on the swings, took a nap and saved this note to myself in my phone:

Here is where I am. Drop everything else. Here is where I am: alone and peaceful
in a warm, dry bed
in a safe place
surrounded by friends
and love
listening to the soft rain and distant thunder
retreating for a nap before supper.
Alone and warm and beautifully sleepy, in a wholly beautiful place. 
That is all that matters.

That morning a group of us had gone caving. I had nearly backed out, but went anyway because another driver was needed. Jack went. The new people loved it. It was a very short trip, but it was good. That night we had a staff meeting to talk about programmatic changes, mainly to the patch and CiT voting systems. It was a really good meeting. And afterward, Charity and I talked to Beth about our roles as lead counselors. We talked about tithing to Camp and using the money to create a lead counselor slush fund. I'm really looking forward to it.

A game of pictionary was pulled together, using prompter cards from the 80's. A game of double Jenga was loudly taking place a few tables away, and later, an even louder game of mangy cat, which I and a few other pictionary players joined after our game wrapped up. It was really, really great.




























*(Baby don't hurt me...)

I still love you, Rams.

VCU lost. I am disappointed, but it happens. I feel bad for them.


Today I woke up late (again) and took a shower and went shopping with Kelly and Maggie. This was all Kelly's idea ("Kelly, wasn't this your idea? Why are we shopping?" "There are sales."), but I'm pretty sure she didn't buy a thing. Maggie and I did the talk-through-the-dressing-room-wall thing--who designs this stuff? Why in the world would there be a zipper there? God, I love this shirt. Who would pay $25 for this? I hate money. This is the best dress ever--while Kelly wandered. I spent too much money today, but that was partially because I had to fill my tank, and that cost right about $70. Great.


An aside: this cat has been trying to muscle her way into my lap for about 45 minutes. I mean she really has been trying hard. She left a few minutes ago, I let my guard down, and BAM. Here she is smearing cat hair all over my new clothes. Thanks, Faith. Thanks. I love you too.


Eventually I kept my promise to my friend Joe to visit him and bring iced cream. I assumed he'd want the iced cream because he's just gotten his wisdom teeth out, but he's actually feeling pretty okay. So that's good. He lives about 40 minutes away, which was a little intimidating (aka "which sounded like a lot of work"), but it was a nice drive. I was evidently feeling a little pensive on the way home, and I made up a song. I have never, ever, ever done this before. It's not like there are a lot of lyrics, but I made up a song. I sang it into my camera so I wouldn't forget it, and I thought about posting it here, but what with my fatigue, and my focusing on driving more than singing, and the road noise and so on, the sound isn't all that great. Maybe another time. This type of thing embarrasses me. And I'm aware that it isn't particularly awesome or original, but I was just driving home and suddenly decided to sing it. And that felt sort of cool. So it goes,

You
You are there.
You are always there when I call your name,
You are always there when I call.
You are always there when I call your name
You are always there when I fall.

And when I run,
and when I'm run down,
and when I run around,
you are there.

Heat

I mentioned extraordinarily early spring flowers the other day, yes? Well today the temperature (on my car thermometer, anyway) hit 91. On March 18th. It was odd to drive with the windows down and not feel any lessening of the temperature inside the car. It was odder still to be doing so with a winter coat on the floorboard of the passenger seat, and to know that I'd probably be wearing the coat again within a week.

Chloe and I went back to Carytown--

Oh yes, I never posted that did I? Thursday Chloe and my mom and I used our massage-and-manicure vouchers from Christmas. Now my nails are red and awesome. While waiting for our turns to be rubbed down and painted, Chloe and I went to Ten Thousand Villages and commenced drooling over scarves and such. So today we went back with (on my part, at least) scarf purchases in mind. I dissuaded myself though, and bought a messenger bag and a change purse/wallet that looks like an owl. It is rather adorable.

My mother sang in a concert performance tonight of John Rutter's "Requiem," so we all (except my brother, who was working) went. Relatedly, I have made a mental addition to Dream House Extraordinaire: a singing room. Or a music room, whatever. This doesn't necessarily mean a room to play musical instruments in so much as it means a room with COMPLETELY AWESOME acoustics. I'm such a sucker for them. When I was exploring ruins alone in Scotland I found myself in a domed stone room and I couldn't help but sing. And then (tonight) I remembered the acoustic "echo spots" at Mary Wash and decided that maybe, in addition to the singing room, there should be sweet acoustics hidden all over the house. Yes. Yes, there should.

I have forgotten what else I meant to write, as usual, and also as usual I don't really feel like uploading pictures. (Don't be too disappointed, dearies--just cell phone pictures of things I bought and considered buying at the store.)

It's nearly 1 am again, so goodnight.

An addendum

I mentioned earlier that today was a rock music kind of day. So true. There was a bit of a dip in the middle for me--I'm guessing this happened because I went to Marshalls looking for several things that I didn't end up buying--but you know what? $10 and $7 dresses fix everything. I came home having bought five dresses for $44, or right about what I got payed for babysitting the other night. That's pretty awesome, since the babysitting was sort of on-the-side money, and now it feels like I just didn't babysit and I got five free dresses. My mom thinks they're all scandalous, but whatever. "You're wearing those with pants, right?" Leggings, yes. Pants, no.


The air feels so soft and wonderful tonight. Watch out--you might be in for another gushy post after I walk Miley.


Lastly: CUTEST THING EVER.

There just isn't enough trashy in my life.

It has come to my attention that there is nothing in my wardrobe that sparkles. Not one thing. Where can I find cheap crap with glitter and sprinkles*?

This appalling lack of trashy came to my attention on New Year's Eve, when Eva and I went to get dressed and while she was putting on a sparkly tank top, I was dejectedly pawing through my piles of cotton blends. It was a sad moment.


One thing I am happy about, though, [disclaimer here: I am so terrible at drawing a line when it comes to TMI and noonegivesashit and "that girl is so crazy (in a bad way)." I am aware of this. You should be aware that this is maybe one of those times where my inability to properly screen my subject matter is more apparent] is my colorful undergarments. I got some new ones via mail order while I was in Scotland, and I noticed this afternoon that the under layers I was wearing were (are) colored as follows: blue and white polka dot, plum-colored, bright yellow, and bright blue. And in the dirty clothes pile on the floor were (are) pink silk long johns with a matching shirt, and some more pink and blue and bright green and purple and "with stars" stuff. So maybe most of my normal clothes are boring and I have too strong an attachment to blue jeans and zip hoodies, but it's okay, because I'm like a mullet. Business in the front, yes?


I bought new chapstick (I use the term loosely in that I never buy Chapstick, only sticks of wax-based stuff to keep my lips from bleeding when it gets too dry out) tonight, and I didn't like it at all. This is at least the second time in a row that this has happened. Not cool. I gave it to Chloe. I've been using Burt's Bees for a while, but have been looking (out of boredom and curiosity more than dissatisfaction) for an alternative. I haven't been particularly successful, obviously.


We're throwing an engagement party for my cousin this weekend, and as trying to get me to cook or bake is generally a pretty painful experience for all involved (not that I can't; just that trying to get me to is a huge pain), my main job in all this is to paint the bathroom and not eat the freshly baked biscotti or cheese pennies or ham biscuits with pimento cheese, or whatever other delicious things get made this week, all from scratch. I'm sure that second part of the job, the not-eating-stuff part, will get harder as the week progresses, but at the moment I am feeling the irritation that is trying to scrape a bathroom that, for some unfathomably asinine reason, was painted ten years ago with flat paint. Except for the closet door frame, and one stretch of wall below the medicine cabinet, which were sensibly painted with semigloss. Whose idea was that? Flat paint, by the way, does not hold up to moisture. Like, at all. Don't f-ing paint your bathroom (or kitchen, for God's sake) with flat paint.


On the plus side, and on an entirely different note, we lost power the other day. I think some drunken idiot ran into a power pole or something, because a huge section of the neighborhood lost power on a fairly clear, non-windy evening. Obviously that isn't super great. It's "on the plus side" because I texted Jack to tell him the power was out and ask him if he needed a flashlight or extra blankets or anything, and then he came home with five snuggies. I have way too much stubborn pride to actually buy a snuggie, but damned if I'm going to let one go to waste. Also, as it turns out, a snuggie is (or seems to be) the perfect thing for my father, who is nearly always cold but doesn't like using blankets or adding lots of layers. Cozy light blanket with arms? It's the perfect compromise! I can't imagine why we didn't think of this before.
































*Halfway meant to type "sparkles," but had intended to type "metallic sequins" before I stopped paying attention to what I was typing. I think I'll leave sprinkles though.

**Homeless footnote: in the interest of using this like a diary and giving myself some actual record of what's going on even when I don't feel like typing/talking about it, I should admit that I have been super emo about David lately. "Super emo" is probably far too strong a phrase, but whatever. And anyway, it's hard to be so completely single when kissing is so much fun, and when there are piles of colorful awesomeness lying around. I mean really.

I am exhausted,

but I am waiting up for the eclipse to hit its stride. It's looking like a crescent moon at the moment. This is one of those things that I always feel like I should get really excited for, but don't actually get all that excited for. I mean, I'd kind of like to see it, but the super slow motion and the dull red light generally end up feeling pretty anticlimactic to me. That, and the fact that I still don't have a camera that can get decent shots of it. One of these days I'm going to have to give in and get a DSR.


I have really been doing a lot of snow boot shopping lately, and I am really getting sick of it. The Sorel Tivoli boots came in the mail today, and they are narrow. And I have wide feet. The situation has been improved by the wearing of stockings and the replacement of the (quite thick) Sorel inserts with thinner ones, but I'm still not 100% decided about keeping them. So I've been looking for emergency backups. Here's a possibility, though I'm not sure about wedge heels in snow boots, or in general. Who the crap makes snow boots with heels?



I spent some time this morning/afternoon working with one of my aunts. She shared with me two excerpts from books that she has read. The first is by Melody Beattie, and I didn't catch the originator of the second, though it is often mistakenly attributed to Nelson Mandela. Bold font obviously mine.

"Say thank you until you mean it.
Thank God, life, and the universe for everyone and everything sent your way.
Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. It turns problems into gifts, failures into successes, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. It can turn an existence into a real life, and disconnected situations into important and beneficial lessons. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.
Gratitude makes things right.
Gratitude turns negative energy into positive energy. There is no situation or circumstance so small or large that it is not susceptible to gratitude's power. We can start with who we are and what we have today, apply gratitude, then let it work its magic.
Say thank you until you mean it. If you say it long enough, you will believe it."

(Disclaimer: I can't say that I completely agree that one should be thankful for everything, but I do think that in every situation, there is something to be thankful for. And while I don't necessarily think that gratitude will instantly fix every problem, I do believe that it saved my life.)

[Going to check on the eclipse*.]

[It now looks like a very fuzzy crescent with a very faint, greyish-red tinge. This might be due to some thin clouds in the way, but it's hard to tell for sure. It isn't a very clear night out here though.]

Second, not-Nelson-Mandela quote:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us--it is in everyone. And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."



Another note: Chloe parked the car in a somewhat unwise spot this evening, and got sideswiped. The car? My car. This is the second time in just over a week that someone has hit my car while it wasn't moving. PSA, everybody: don't buy a gd navy blue car. Surprisingly enough, it tends to blend in with the navy blue nighttime. Crazy, right?


Lastly, I really want these boots. I want them so bad. They come in navy blue! How often does that happen? I think possibly I should be banned from looking up boots online for a while.






















*I am ashamed and a little bit horrified to admit that when I say the word "eclipse**," I think of the Twilight series.

**Oh God, I capitalized it.

Notes

I went to a beautiful international lessons and carols concert tonight with Anna, and... well, as I said, it was beautiful. The chorus was amazing. I liked almost all of the arrangements, and most of the carols were new to me. The orchestra was excellent. Each reading was in a different language, with the English translation projected on the wall. During each song, works of art related to the nativity (and often to the culture of the song and/or previous reading) were projected on the wall. I teared up a few times.

(Faith, our cat, is sleeping curled up on top of a sheet-covered milk crate. Her head just tipped off the edge and woke her up. Adorable.)

As we were leaving the concert, I was giving Anna a ride to her car, and someone backed straight into me. I have the worst reactions in these sorts of situations. I just sort of watch, dumbfounded, and maybe say something like "stop!" Eventually Anna said "your horn! Honk!" And then I had to find my horn, which broke a while back and has been relocated. Anyway, there's a small dent in my door, and I have the woman's name/number/insurance information. I haven't told my parents yet--I forgot at first.

I remembered when Anna called me around 10:30 to tell me that as she was leaving the birthday party she attended after the concert,

wait for it,

someone backed straight into her car, and hit her in the exact same spot as the woman at the show hit me.

What are the odds?



Speaking of odds, I spent the bulk of my evening after I came home shopping for snow boots. Originally I was shopping for thin wool socks for Scotland, and I was looking on planetshoes.com because they'd sent me a coupon. I searched "wool" on their site, and ran straight into these:

I want them. I want them so bad. But I have been able to semi-successfully convince myself that they wouldn't look good with jeans. Do not dissuade me. I can't even afford them at all. The best price I found was $122, and that took a lot of doing, and was a temporary sale. No one else had them on sale (reg price $160); hardly anyone had them in my size. It was slightly hellish.

I ended up with these, from footwise.com, with which I am pretty well pleased:

As a ridiculously fabulous added bonus, they were on sale because footwise only had them left in one size--my size. NO ONE else had these in my size except maybe Nordstrom's. Nordstrom's was charging $100. The footwise sale was $49. God loves me, I think. Now let's just keep our fingers crossed and hope they fit and all that.











On an unrelated note, I walked Miley tonight. She insists upon strangling herself. I constantly find myself thinking, "Buy a semi-choke collar! Strangulation theoretically optional."

I just have not even remotely felt like posting lately.

But on Monday David and I went to the pageant, and it was okay. That is, he said the pageant was awesome, and he didn't stay for dinner. I thought the pageant was not-that-awesome, but ok. I get self-conscious when I take people to things that I have seen before; also it was strange for me to watch the thing without knowing any of the students who were in it.

Buying a gilt-framed mirror off craigslist tomorrow for $10. I know I need to stop buying myself things, but it's $10! And I have a thing about pretty mirrors. It's an issue.

I have an interview for an $11/hr swim teaching job tomorrow, either for adults or for kids--not sure which they'll want me to do if I'm hired. I'd have to work through at least part of the summer, but I feel like I can live with that. Let's keep our fingers crossed, shall we?

I am reading Neverwhere, by Neil Gaiman. Have I ever mentioned that he is a genius amazing writer? Because he is. I love him. Pity he's too old for me.

Tonight Kelly and Maggie and Junior are coming over to make chocolate things. Truffles, thin mints maybe, perhaps some chocolate-dipped citrus peels. Who knows. Should be a good time, especially if we get anything done.

I need to stop buying myself stuff. REALLY. (Help.)

I have a sexy new candy-cane-stripe dress. (And by new, I mean vintage.) I'm definitely not a habitual vintage shopper, but a friend of ours was having a party/open house for her eyeglass shop in the space she's currently sharing with a woman who owns a coffee and tea shop, and we were there, and there were vintage clothes there as well. And jewelry. And chocolate-dipped strawberries.

Possibly that didn't make sense. These people that live behind us? River (daughter, Chloe's age), her brothers, Cynthia (mom) and Bruce (dad)? They are our friends. Cynthia owns an eyeglass store. It caught on fire. The coffee/tea shop next to hers also caught fire. Now they are sharing space a few doors down. They had a party. It was pretty great, because now I have a new dress. I'm having a little trouble figuring out what to wear with it though, as winter tends to be a little chilly for mid-thigh-length sleeveless dresses, and I don't know how to match things.



Christmas list update: I really want buckyballs (from thinkgeek.com). I also really want grey tights, white tights, and jeggings (don't judge me). I also REALLY want Spill & Spell (they still sell it! At Barnes and Noble!) and Set (also sold at B&N!). Really though I mostly only want Set because the last and only time I played it, I got beat repeatedly by a six year old, and that isn't really okay with me. I need to practice. To be fair, she beat everyone else too, and every single time (except her older sister--this is a genius family), and she'd start picking up sets before all the cards were even down, but still. She was SIX.

Also, the BAm Nonrequired Reading this year (2010, in case that was unclear: Best American Nonrequired Reading 2010) is edited by Dave Eggers. Want. Also wouldn't mind having the BAm short stories, essays, science writing. Or Bill Bryson's new book, At Home: A Short History of Private Life, because I love him. A lot. Or pretty much any Oliver Sacks book other than The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat, as I believe I've mentioned before.

OR THE NEW WHEEL OF TIME BOOK. Please forgive me for yelling. It's difficult to contain myself. I mean, I know I should wait for the paperback, I know I don't want to own the hardback, but I want to read it NOW. It's called Towers of Midnight, if anyone was wondering. It's written by Brandon (?) (I always get his first name wrong) Sanderson.

Also: Anything by Neil Gaiman that isn't Coraline. Also, 1,000 Things To See Before You Die.

My mother is a genius.

I have had a cold, and she has been in New York City. When she came back I asked whether she knew of any way to temporarily remove the left side of my head (earlier I had been thinking front left quadrant, but I realized that that was too conservative an estimate), just until the swelling went down in my sinus cavities. She said no, but she asked what I had been eating and informed me that all of my responses were mucus-producing and/or acidic, and when we got home she brought me a little peppermint oil on a tissue and told me to breathe it in and spread a little under my nose. She explained that peppermint is anti-inflammatory. I know this of course, but my brain doesn't connect the "I have a cold" > "my sinus cavities are inflamed" > "I need an anti-inflammatory" > "peppermint is an anti-inflammatory" dots. So anyway, now I feel a little like someone is holding a chunk of dry ice under my nose, but the stabbing sensation inside my sinuses has subsided, so that's nice. On the plus side, I can now move air through the left side of my head. On the downside, it is becoming increasingly difficult to move air through the right side of my head.


On another unrelated note, I bought a new camera for Scotland*. My old one is still functioning, but seems to be on its last legs--and if it died during or just before the Scotland trip, I think I might kill someone. So really this is all** in the interest of homicide prevention.


With my mother in NYC, I had to get up earlyish this morning to help my dad get ready for work. This worked out well, as I began waking up as a side effect of the cold around 7:30. My point though is that I tend to forget how much I love mornings. How gorgeous they are. How delicious they smell, even through my current haze. It was lovely. I also always, always utterly forget how amazing the morning light looks in the fall, when the sun shines in through the trees and fills my bedroom with a deep red light. That was closer to six, when I wasn't quite as conscious as I now wish I had been. It was really beautiful.






















*For my trip to Scotland, I mean. Not "for Scotland," exactly.

**I put hours of research into this decision. Do you see what a good civil servant I am? Completely selfless, even if I do say so myself.

Mostly about money

I had this referral link to today's Groupon deal (which is great, by the way), but I lost it through sheer idiocy and an unforgivable lack of familiarity with the workings of Blogger's "link" button. This would have allowed you to get $20 worth of food at Sprout for $10. You can still do that, but I won't get any credit for you having done so. Even if you don't live in my town, Groupon is awesome.

Actually, I found it, or found one that will direct you to the main website if not the specific deal of today. Go save money!

Sprout is a part of the really great locavore movement. The idea (fact, actually) is that though we talk about gasoline consumption as being strictly related to our driving habits, far more of it is used in the (often wholly unnecessary) transportation of food*. At the grocery store recently I saw two bags of onions sitting next to each other. They seemed pretty identical and cost roughly the same amount, but one was filled with onions grown in the US (unfortunately, the state was not specified), and the other with onions grown in Chile. Chile isn't actually very close to Virginia, and I don't even want to know what tiny percentage of the price of those onions was going to the poor Chilean grower. After thousands of miles of transportation and multiple middle men, I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that it wasn't much. And even transporting a lot of onions, it takes a lot of gasoline--and money--to travel that far. If I had been able to buy Virginia-grown onions, the ratio of gas money to farmer profit would have been far, far higher, and I would have been supporting my own, local economy. You know, the one that's suffering from a lack of jobs and money. So basically what I'm saying is that you should eat at Sprout.




I found this article somewhere the other day about IHOP (prayer, not pancakes). I had heard of them before I guess, but that was about it. I am now interested.



Also, I am having issues with David. Not the kind where he did anything bad, but the other kind where he still matters a lot to me.




Lastly, this song is very pretty. It seems to be a combination of Greensleeves and Streets of Laredo, or possibly I am missing something.























*There are of course other factors, such as plastic, but let's not get into that at the moment.

Hmm.

I went to the store to buy Milk Duds. I also went to buy peanut butter and milk and Silk and ice cream (plus Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia  fro-yo, YUM) and orange juice and two bottles of seltzer water for my addict of a mother. (To be fair, Chloe drinks almost as much of the stuff when she's home, and my aunts are fans as well. So she comes by the carbonated-water addiction very honestly.) Anyway, I didn't get Milk Duds. There was no post-Halloween candy sale at Martin's, which was probably just as well. Unfortunately, there's a CVS on my way home and they had two-for-$3 sale on bags of Riesens. So now we're almost down to one bag of Riesens. One might think I'd learn that trying to satisfy a candy craving is an exercise in misery, but that assumption would be characteristic of huge underestimation of my stubbornness and idiocy.

Sherlock was rather good tonight. It'll be on again on Sunday on PBS at 9pm EST, or rather, the next (and final, for the time being) episode will be. Don't miss it!

I was listening to the radio the other day and heard this new song, "Come Back Song," on the radio. At first I thought that it must be the guy from Hootie and the Blowfish, because not only did he have a voice that sounded similar to the H&tB lead singer, but he also had all of the same vocal habits with regards to, uh, note patterns and improvisation and such. Then the song ended, and the DJ said that the singer had been Darius Rucker, and I was dumbfounded. Never mind that I had no idea what the H&tB lead singer was named, and that I knew that they weren't a country band. Hey, guess what. D Rucker sang (sings?) for Hootie. Duh.

Anyway, it's a good song, even if the video is shot in that "hey, look at me, I'm cute" style usually reserved for young, fresh-faced new pop artists.




Another song I have been loving lately (I've been on a minor country kick, ok?), by Sugarland:



Yes, there is an official video, and it's ok, but it's ridiculous and I don't want it to influence anyone's first impression of the song. You can watch that on your own time.

Consumerism

Did I mention that I want to buy Badger Balm stuff? I want to buy everything they have on sale at their website, plus a few other things for good measure I'm sure. And a large percentage of the Burt's Bees catalog. Also I just finally ordered that one pair of boots, now that I've finally printed out the return shipping label for the ones that didn't fit. Sort of like a reward program for good behavior. Also I paid the balance on the phone bill last night, which felt nice. The only trick here, of course, is making sure that there is money remaining in my account. I am keeping an eye on it and trying to keep my hands off anything by Badger Balm.

Did I mention that a tree limb fell through our roof last night? Luckily it missed the a.c. vent and failed to come through the ceiling of my parents' room. The claims adjuster (adjustor?) was here this morning, and we're hoping to have it fixed before the next rain, courtesy of my mother's roofer friend Ann.

Camp staff retreat is this weekend, and I have been trying to figure out when I am supposed to meet Laura so that we can ride up together. I am bringing Miley with me because there would otherwise be no one around to walk her except Jack, and possibly also because I am soft in the head. So we'll see how that goes.


I am feeling really jittery at the moment. Possibly due to a lack of sleep? We were all up until 2 am or so, for some reason.

If I weren't so anti-causing conflict,

then that one about Mordor would be really, really tempting. Also the rocket launcher. Okay, maybe most of them.

Also, and more importantly, watch this:






So much love to you, Jeremy Irons. So much love.

I have no idea why this font is extra small. It says it's normal-sized.

A little chaser to follow that bitterness from yesterday, the other day, whenever.

First: I applied (via Craigslist, as almost always) for a before/after school teaching position at the Goddard school, and almost immediately was called for an interview. Here's hoping that goes well.

Second: Thanks to the splendid motivation provided by the heavenly smell of Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day soap, I mopped and scrubbed pretty much the entire upstairs (aka main floor), including walls and doors, mostly excluding the bedrooms. Everything smells like geraniums. It is quite lovely.

Also, having worked for about three days, I can now say that my room is mostly clean. And my shoes are organized! This is truly cause for a celebration. 


Unfortunately, the 75% off* stool I wanted to buy was sold today. Such a shame. Maybe I'll have to go for those boots, after all. If I get some money.










































*Speaking of which, here is what I think every time I look at or think about that gorgeous, more-than-I-should-have-spent-on-a-scarf scarf I bought (75% off!) the other day:
"And it shall be an heirloom of my kingdom. All those who follow in my bloodline shall be bound to its fate, for I shall risk no hurt** to the [scarf]. It is precious to me, though I buy it with a great pain."


Ten hugs to anyone who correctly identifies that quote.


Don't judge me.




**Yeah, it may or may not be sealed up in a gallon ziplock bag with some lavender oil on a tissue. It's alpaca wool, okay?

Were I a toddler, this would be true love. The truest.

We (myself, my sister, my mother and two of her sisters, so elegant) had our lunches together at Can-Can today--a really quite lovely French restaurant in Carytown. I had never been in, as it seemed expensive and I am generally cheap, but it was, as I said, really quite lovely. It was full of exquisite little touches of elegance and Europe and class. It seemed (to, admittedly, one who has never spent an instant in France) to feel very European. The ceiling is high, gold and intricate, with circles of fleurs-des-lis around the hanging lamps. The floor is real marble mosaic. The bread is real, good bread, cut right there on a marble countertop before being brought to the table. French herb bread, baguettes, apple bread with raisins. The walls are decorated in places with antique mirrors. The bar was imported from France in three parts. In the bathrooms, there are European-style toilets with silver chains, and beautiful porcelain sinks with arched, swanlike spigots.

I would like to go back.



Ten Thousand Villages is having its (evidently yearly?) 75% off sale, and I spent more money than I should have on a really beautiful hand-woven black alpaca scarf with black embroidery and lace weaving and tassels at the ends made of black ribbon. It is from Bolivia. It was originally $125. How in good conscience could I turn that down? This is the sort of scarf--shawl really, I suppose--that I might pass on to my grandchildren. It is truly a treasure.

My brain doesn't feel organized enough right now to write anything, but I've been wanting to or feeling like I should, so hereIgo.

It's funny how songs that have always seemed pretty meaningless can turn true sometimes. This past weekend it was that BSB song (and in case anyone besides Sara was wondering and didn't want to listen, there are lyrics available online. I didn't listen to it either), and this morning it was "Goodbye To You" by Michelle Branch. Not that I'm anywhere near so ready to say goodbye to anything as she seems to be, but I think I could say that most of the rest of it lines up pretty well with, uh, me. Tonight I saw "Glee" for the first time, and it was interesting how relevant "Hello Goodbye" seemed. I don't really know where I was going with that. I'm just interested in the way different things stand out to us when we're at different points in our lives. Different things seem meaningful or important depending on what we have experienced or are experiencing.

In other news, Kelly and I went shopping today (as she was so nice as to give up her shopping trip yesterday to help me leave Chloe a car), and I finally got Ian a Bible. Unfortunately it seems to cost $10 less on the website than it did in the store. Somebody remind me not to shop at the Christian bookstore in the mall. Good thing I have a member card now. I tried on a sweet dress at Charlotte Russe (I had never been into the store and was curious) and then didn't buy it, and now am having second thoughts. But on the plus side, Kelly and I each got jackets in packets from Old Navy on sale! For $4! Hers is gray and mine is superawesomegreen.

By the way, Glee is awesome.
"What do you guys say when you answer the phone?"
"Sup"
"Who dis is?"
"No, she's dead. This is her son."
Enough said.


Daniel, if you are reading, I hope Korea is awesome. I am waiting for blog or buzz posts about being in Korea. Everyone, Daniel is in Korea! It's like I have a spy over there to see what it would be like to go. Or at least it would be, if he'd hurry up and post more stuff. So far I know that if you fly over there, the admins of your school or whatever will book you in a sex motel (featuring erotic murals) the night before you move into your apartment. Awesome.

And Chris, I'm sorry I couldn't pick up the phone! I was buying my future godson a Bible. Talk tomorrow? Evidently tonight I am too tired/lazy to send actual emails to people.

Love to all. Goodnight.

The Holiday

The days leading up to Christmas were pretty rough (read: mostly terrible) and Christmas started out that way, but ended up being alright. I worked 8:30-5 on the 23rd, then came home and had a bath in an attempt to improve my ankle and my mood, and then Chloe and I went to Jay's (Farley and Jen's younger son's) birthday party. That was nice. I sat with Jack for a little while (honestly, a gift in itself) and mostly watched people.

Christmas eve I felt better while I could keep myself distracted, and I worked 7:45-4:30, and then went to help Uncle Bud make eggnog. Last year I helped with the whole process, but this year we had dinner at my Uncle Tommy's/Aunt Krystyna's house, so I only had time to separate 3 dozen eggs*, and then I had to leave. Dinner was nice though, even though I still have a hard time downing traditional Polish Christmas food. Tommy's children from his first marriage were both there with their fantastic kids, and I never get to see little kids anymore, so I spent most of the evening keeping them out of everyone's way and out of trouble, rather than talking to my cousins. There were five of them and one of me, so it was a little hectic, but fun. Tom jr's second son, Sam, was there and awake, and oh my goodness he is a peach. He is 17 months I think and he doesn't talk, but he understands everything you're saying to him, and he is so beautiful and sweet. Also Lily, Holly's youngest (who is four), just loves him. She would follow him around and show him things. The four older kids spent most of the night taking turns making noise and borrowing my camera, so there are a lot of interesting pictures on there. It was really interesting actually to see things from their perspective. You forget what it's like to be so small, you know?

Krystyna's younger daughter Victoria was there too of course, and I talked with her a little. She has a new dog named Oscar, a dachshund puppy, and I want him. There aren't really words to describe how great he is.

After dinner we stopped at home for a little while and then went to midnight mass, where I barely held it together. That pretty much sucked.


Christmas morning I woke up and discovered a few things: First, Ed and Uncle Bud were not coming to brunch after all; we were going to Holly and Brian's instead to see Tom and Sara before they left again for San Francisco. Second, I wasn't the only one who hadn't been able to get presents this year--actually, Chloe and my dad were the only ones who were even remotely on top of things. So we had breakfast and each opened one gift, and then went to see the cousins. It was nice to be there, though it was a little hard to have my ideas about the day so thoroughly shifted as soon as I woke up. Christmas later in the afternoon on Church Hill was also nice, but overall the whole day just felt a little off to me. The food was delicious though, and Mom made me and Chloe sing with her several times. (Come Thou, Long Expected Jesus.)

The day after Christmas I don't remember well at the moment. Oh! Ed came for brunch, and my Uncle Tommy came bearing gifts and a Russian documentary about water that was really awesome, actually. I'd like to research it more. We had vegetables and grits and more of the rockfish I'd brought home from work on Christmas eve, and Ed brought some scones from Joe's Market that were pretty fantastic.
Later, around 3 I think, Kelly and Susannah came over to find us/my mom watching episodes from Faerie Tale Theater (she got the whole series from her secret santa--good thing I didn't buy them like I had planned). We watched some and ate chili and played a very short and ridiculous game of apples to apples (you can't really play with three people, so we discarded the "7 cards per person" and "one entry per hand" rules and just threw in as many cards each time as we felt like), and then after a brief search for the "charging rino" card (mentioned in the directions but never seen) we went to see Avatar. We'd planned on the 7 pm show but were a little late, so we got ice cream and then went to the 8 pm show instead. It was AMAZING.

Sunday Chloe and I went to St Edward's for church and met Kelly there, and she came over after church for a little while, as she didn't have time to get home and back before she had to pick up her mentee for their outing. We went to Wal-Mart, so I finally got some Christmas shopping done, though I am still not by any means finished. Soon after we got back and she left my family congregated in the living room (even Jack!) to open our stockings at last. Mom gave me two beautiful necklaces--one a double-strand of black freshwater pearls, and the other a coin silver (?) Navajo necklace that belonged to Mrs. Erickson before she died. She also gave each of us a small bottle of essential oils**, and mine is a mix called "Joy." 
Sunday night... Mom and Dad and Chloe and I went to see Avatar. Still amazing.

Today I worked 1:30 to 7, and then finally went and got the supplies I need to make David's Christmas present. So hopefully I'll be getting that done shortly. And for dinner tonight, delicious chili made by mom!

Shower time.










*A tip for eggnog makers: I find that the easiest way to separate eggs is with my hands; however, if you are doing this, you should A) heat your house and B) warm the eggs a little. My fingers felt like blocks of wood after each dozen, so I had to keep stopping and warming them.

**Evidently most essential oils bought from health food stores and whatnot are not nearly as useful as they could be, because the makers of said oils don't actually know what they're doing--what they're going for. It would seem that humans have (or each human has) a particular electric signature. Plants do as well, as do all living things. Certain plant signatures support ours--but the ways in which most manufacturers usually produce essential oils can actually destroy or weaken the plant signatures so much as to render them nearly useless.

Today:

Subway for lunch.

Driving in the rain, being cold.

Waking up at 6:30 am.

Shoe shopping via the Cole Haan 40% off sale--the salespeople in the store were so nice/cool! As in, so nice/cool that I for real want to be friends with them, and wish it wouldn't have been socially super weird, awkward, and generally unacceptable to look them up on facebook or something.

Driving 70 miles around town.

Wearing some of the supercute new clothes purchased yesterday with Lucy at Target (and being complimented on them at the shoe store).

Starting my new job! Zomg! Not that I get paid till I finish training (I think?) but whatever.

And the real kicker,

Two and a half years dating David Vinson: awesome boyfriend extraordinaire.

Just a refresher:

Goodness. What a day.