"...but it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world."

Today did not necessarily begin as I would have hoped, but it has been a beautiful day.

I woke up feeling somewhat rested, which was wonderful, even if I did temporarily obliterate that healthy feeling by stubbornly refusing to not eat cereal for breakfast*, and I went to work for Mrs D organizing and whatever, and I was in such a good mood. Regardless of my morning or my stomach, how could anyone possibly be upset when the world has transformed into a red, yellow and orange pointillism painting, and the air is streaming with brightly colored leaves and filling with breathtaking flocks of starlings? How could anyone do anything but grin and sing into the wind when the air is seventy-five degrees in November, and the radio is playing The New Radicals and Alanis Morrisette and Miranda Lambert, with Eric Hutchinson in the cd player?

I came home from Mrs D's for a little while to check email and make more delicious fried eggs with tumeric and chili powder, thyme and garlic in coconut oil, then went to tutor Mary and help her prepare for her history test (why didn't I think this stuff was interesting when I was in school?). Afterward I made a deposit at the bank, dropped off my car at the service station for an oil change and inspection, and walked the  two or so miles home. It wasn't my favorite venue or time of day for walking--I was on a main road with no sidewalk, and I was walking between the sunset and the appearance of the stars, so the scenery wasn't particularly relaxing or pretty--but after a few minutes I started to tune in to the smells of the warm grass and crunchy fall leaves, and that was very nice. The evening breeze was delicious, and the stark contrast between the main road and my quiet, sleepy little street made it seem even more peaceful than usual. A cat wandered over from a driveway across the street, and after I scratched its ears it followed me halfway home, hoping for more love.














































*By the way, I keep forgetting to mention this, but I think I just became lactose intolerant. That would be funny if I were kidding, but I'm not. I am not kidding. And that means that I am upset, because I love milk and other milk-related products. I mean, cheese! Yogurt! Hot chocolate! Ice cream! And I eat cereal for breakfast every day! And do not even talk to me about soy or rice or almond milk. Don't even start. I am grieving right now. Just leave me alone.

On clarity, and waiting.

This is most excellent, and it needs to be shared. (Shared with me by Anna.)

Tone.

You know what's utterly delicious? Leftover Chinese food: beef with broccoli from that takeout place down the street. You know what's really not that delicious? Salad with no chicken in. Just saying.


ALSO COMPLETELY DELICIOUS AND WITH WHICH I AM UNREASONABLY OBSESSED:




Also omg fried rice is the best thing ever, ever, ever invented. Ever.



On another note, it totally sucks when people seem really awesome and then you realize that they don't actually, you know, like, understand the concept of boundaries. Or, for example, the idea that the world doesn't revolve around what they want. Or that their problems are not my problems. It's not the most endearing thing in the world.



On yet another note, Sunday was largely really awesome. Jack and our parents and I had 8:30 am "brunch" for mother's day, after which Jack and I each crashed for several hours. Generally I try to get to church on Sunday mornings, but we had been to the funeral for Kelly's grandmother on Saturday, which included a mass. It was (of course) very sad, but the service was beautiful. Being around so many people that I loved was beautiful. So anyway, no church on Sunday. When I woke up there was a distant* cousin stopping in at our house on his way out of town, so we talked and had lunch, and he's an interesting fellow. Possibly an electrical engineer? Or trained as such. I spent most of the rest of the day cleaning my room (relative success!), and at one point took a break to walk Miley. There were several separate points of awesomeness on said walk:

I smelled honeysuckle!
I also smelled cut grass!
I also smelled cigarette smoke, which would normally be not-awesome, except that it was coming from Gina, whom I have not seen in probably eight years. She lives in the Norfolk area, and her mother is a friend of my mom's and her maternal aunt--River's mom--lives behind us. She and her mom and grandmother AND HER DAUGHTER were in town for mother's day. Her daughter is six now! I had never seen her before, but she is so beautiful. It made my day to see them.


































*I actually have no idea how we are related, but "Armistead" is a family name, and I'm pretty sure someone referred to him as a cousin at some point. Actually, there are rather a lot of people to whom I am related, but related in some completely obscure (to me) way. So "distant" here really only means that he isn't a first cousin, or (as far as I know) a second.

Luckily, you'll probably read the more recent entry before reading this.

What was that I was saying a while ago, about how whatever goes up must come down?

That's a depressing sentiment.

This past weekend was wonderful. It was really, indescribably great, in so many ways. Saturday night I went to bed so happy that I couldn't fall asleep. On the drive home I was just basking in the beauty of the weekend, and working so hard to hold onto it that I didn't take my phone off of airplane mode until Charlottesville.

I had gone in in a terrible mood. I had had an experience with a guy I didn't really know that left me feeling disillusioned and used. Saying that makes it sound much worse than it was--it's not like anything drastic happened. I just met someone who seemed cool until it became apparent that I was only interesting for my looks and for the possibilities I might present as an object. I have never felt so used, and looking back, I think it hurt me more deeply even than I've consciously realized. I am not even really sure that he realized what a jerk he was being (though, of course, he may have been completely aware), but throughout the weekend I needed to almost constantly remind myself to let it go; remind myself that I was in my favorite place in the world, that I was surrounded by friends and love, and that that was what mattered.

This is a song that I had heard, loved, and forgotten. I remembered it, found it, and bought it last night. Woodie Guthrie wrote the words and never put them to music, so after his death, Nora Guthrie (Woodie's daughter) asked Ellis Paul to put the lyrics to music. God's Promise.




(I didn't ever finish this entry--just wrote a bit and abandoned it. Don't remember what else I had in mind to say.)

Ok Go (reflections on college idiocy)

The night that I met Ok Go and didn't even realize how GDMFing awesome they were will forever live on in my memory in awesomeness and infamy. I had only heard one song, and only because Zach had put it on a mix cd for me, and I harassed him until he answered my "who the hell are these guys? So awesome!" questions. It was this one:



And then they came to play at our school. For free. And after some deliberation, and some assurance from my music source that they were good, I went. And they were awesome, I'm sure, but concerts are always better when you know more than one song. And at the end, when we cheered them back onstage for an encore, they said, "You know, bands always sound much better on cd than they do live, so we're just going to play a song from our new cd for you." And we thought,

Surely, they must be joking. Then a cd was placed into a boom box on the stage.


A joke, right?


They all lined up, pushed play, and stood still. We're almost on the verge of booing at this point. But then!

The A Million Ways dance. No one had seen this before. The video hadn't been released yet, as far as I know. And it was awesome.





And they came and hung out for a while afterward, and they were great. And so patient with an obnoxious freshman (sophomore?) like me who obviously knew nothing about them, didn't even know that they had a new member, bought the old cd and asked the new guy to sign it. Several of us took a picture with Damien Kulash with Megs' camera. I never even saw the picture. I could die. I spoke to Tim Norwind and had no idea that he was hilarious. I spoke to Dan Konopka and didn't know he was great. I made Andy Ross sign his name on Andy Duncan's album page. I'm an idiot. I guess these things happen, but it's a little painful to think about.


But anyway, I love them now, and that's the best I can do. Not in an "I know everything about every one of them and I dream about them at night" sort of way (actually, I had to get most of their names from Wikipedia just now), but in an "I think you guys are great. Your videos are great. Your music is great. I love the way you left your label so you could do what you wanted. If you ever decide to stop making music I am going to be quite sad" sort of way. And do you know what else I love about them? I love that they don't play into the "we're famous and sexy" BS that goes on in the world of music. I love that you get to see all of their faces in their videos. It's not "Damien and band"--it's Ok Go. And they're not demigods--they're guys from Chicago who make great songs and great videos.

For reference, the first video above, "Get Over It," is great in a pop rock, "our lead singer is hot" kind of way, and it does have a little bit of OkGo flair in the insertion of things like a random bale of hay and a few seconds of ping pong, but it's bland. I still like it, but it's really bland. By contrast, here is one of their more recent music videos:



Thoughts? They're so odd and so awesome, and I'm more in love with the music from "The Blue Color Of The Sky" all the time. It's in the mail right now, on its way into my very own loving hands and cd player. (And it's all because of you and your Best Buy Rewards Certificate, Sara. What would I do without you? I don't deserve your friendship, I'm pretty sure...)

From Today:

Anna is awesome. Duh.

I hung out with David for a short amount of time and didn't even get upset or anything. Win.


Volunteer work never sounds good to me at all, but I love helping out at the RBA, often even if I'm helping with things I don't even like to do. Today I spent several hours trying to get in touch with campers who came last year but haven't sent in their registration forms this year. Some had moved. A lot had disconnected numbers. A lot of the numbers I called had answering machines that didn't give their name. It was pretty awesome though, every time I could get somebody on the phone. And I had a good time.


I tutored Jacob tonight, probably for the last time, and afterward taught him to make origami frogs (and taught his mom and sister to make 3D paper stars) as a going-away gift. He's a good kid. They're a nice family.


I went to Kelly's after work and we watched Wipeout, which is along the same lines as, or is sort of a cross between, MXC and that one gladiator (?) show with the super hardcore obstacle courses. What's it called again? Anyway, Wipeout was awesome. All those shows are awesome.


Rock music: I love it. And I need to fix my OkGo cd. I've tried to be nice to it, but six years is a long lifespan for a disc. I sometimes have a hard time understanding why everyone doesn't love OkGo, or Everclear, or Ambulance LTD. I just don't get it.







Thanks to my friend Zach Bowman for accidentally introducing me to Ambulance LTD by raising the idea of going to see The Killers at the NorVa in...2006? There are quite a few things I owe to Zach Bowman, actually: for one, he introduced me to OkGo as well. THANK YOU ZACH.

I'm having a moment.

I'm having a "this is me! This is what I love!" sort of moment. I have these periodically--where I want to be around people who are great, where I feel like I am pretty great and I want people to know who I am. Not in an "I want to be famous" sort of way, but more that I want the people I meet to know what makes me "me," and what unique gifts I have to offer. Everyone has their own gifts. I want mine to be known to you. And I want yours to be known to me. Possibly this has to do with the fact that I spent a lot of time with my good and wonderful friend Anna yesterday evening, and possibly it also has to do with the fact that I have been watching the "Jessica's Daily Affirmations" video today.

My whole house is great. I can do anything good. I like my school, I like anything, I like my dad, I like my cousins, I like my aunts, I like my Allisons, I like my mom, I like my sister, I like my dads, I like my hair, I like my haircuts, I like my pajamas, I like my stuff! I like my room! I LIKE MY WHOLE HOUSE! My whole house is great, I can do anything good, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, *dance, dance* I can do anything good, better than anyone..."

It's pretty much the best. It's the best. It's the best ever. I'm going to go watch it again now.

501

First, I ought not to complain about cold weather. It was a nice good-bye walk with my winter walk gear--pea coat, soft wool scarf, red leather gloves and blue knitted cap--before I put it all away for the season. The last frost. The last night of misted breath beneath a perfectly clear, moonless sky.

Sara sent me a video of a band singing to a live, outdoor audience in a language I can neither identify nor understand. It was a sweet video though, which was why she shared it. There was a section in which people were hugging each other goodbye, and I thought, "I love hugs." In the Chrome search bar I typed "youtube.com: hug" and hit enter before taking Miley for a walk. Here is what I watched, and what I think I was semi-subconsciously looking for:



I love the whole "free hugs" movement. Is it a movement? If not, it should be. When we were sixteen, Kelly and I went to World Youth Day in Toronto, Canada, with a church group from somewhere in Virginia or Maryland. It was actually more like a week, and one afternoon we saw some Aussies cheerfully walking around with "free hugs" signs*, and soon decided to make our own. We loudly advertised our hugs to the passing crowd. I started keeping track, and I think we hugged something like 1400 people in an hour. Now I have the idea that I'd like to make another "FREE HUGS" sign and take it to the mall or the park, and either walk around with it or set it next to me on a bench while I read, and see what happens. Maybe I could make a free hugs t-shirt. There should be more hugging in the world.


EDIT:
Free Hugs Homepage. Hugs are good for your health, people!
















*And thus began my love affair with all things Australian. Technically this is untrue, as I first heard of and wanted to visit the Australian continent whenI attended first grade in a "down under" themed classroom as a child. But WYD 2002 helped.

I am Alice.

1. I learned to use a chainsaw yesterday. I used said chainsaw again today. My back aches.

2. I am moody this past weekend, through today.

3. I dislike having disagreements with the woman who processes my tutoring invoices. I got an email back saying that $29 had been removed from my total invoiced, because "the last payment processed included a session...on 12/7 that had already been paid." This is despite the fact that I "showed my work" (as it were) as requested, and made a note on my invoice that there were a few dates from December on the scans (with "x"s next to them!) that had already been invoiced, and that those should be ignored. I listed the dates I was invoicing. I added up the hours. I multiplied the hours times the rate and showed the total. Even so, $29 was subtracted from my invoice. I feel like she thinks I'm trying to cheat the company or something. I'm sure she has a lot of invoices to go through, but it's still irritating. Hopefully she will read my [more politely worded than this] "um no, I did not invoice you for that date, here is an excerpt from my invoice which shows you the dates for which I invoiced you" email and give me back my money, and then I can stop being annoyed.


4. The chainsaw thing was pretty cool. I'm pretty excited about that. While I have opened up to other power tools, I have been holding off on chainsaws because they are, in my estimation, about the least safe power tool ever. But whatever. I helped cut down and cut up a tree. It's because I'm a badass. (Ha.) It's been nice to work outside for the past few days though, even if the unseasonably warm weather is kind of weird. The crocuses have been up for at least a week now, and I heard frogs tonight when I walked Miley. As I said the other day, I really hope they don't freeze. The low again the night after tomorrow is projected to be 31 degrees.


It rained today, though it was supposed to thunderstorm. While I was working this afternoon, painting and clearing brush in the yard, I could feel the air thicken with the coming rain. The first fat drops splattered onto my windshield just after I got into the car. I have been waiting for a sky-splitting, tree-cracking thunderstorm all night. Come on, weather!

I thought I had more to say, but I guess not--or not at this moment. There have been some things about David floating around in my head though, lately. Sunday it will have been a year since we broke up. I considered writing him an extremely dramatic letter, and I guess I'll probably consider it again. Something along these fairly predictable lines:

I think I'll always love you, though I've put out the flames. The embers are banked in my pocket. I'm not asking for anything, because I know that the ways in which we fit together are broken ways. The broken pieces of me fit alongside the broken pieces of you and that keeps us each broken. Then maybe something else about how I never ("never") find other people attractive anymore* unless I convince myself to. And then about how, (hand to brow,) this will be the last letter I ever send to you. Goodbye [and have a nice life].

As though I could ever send or stick to or even consistently fit the description of such a thing. It only seems like a good idea when I'm feeling emotional and then "How's It Gonna Be" comes on the radio, or "Two Coins" gets stuck in my head.

In my defense, I've loved Third Eye Blind (the 3EB album, anyway) since sometime in middle school, and Dispatch since 2004, which was before I even knew David. So me loving those songs far predates me being stupidly-broken-up-emo.

Excuse me. Apparently it's "How's It Going To Be," and he simply mispronounces his own lyrics throughout the song:




On another note, my brother Jack has a Netflix subscription on the tv downstairs, and I watched Alice In Wonderland tonight. I had low expectations, which is, in my opinion, the best way to approach movies. (High expectations are nearly always dashed, even by good movies. This is possibly because I set my standards extremely high or extremely low--I'm not good at middle ground.)

I loved it. I loved it. I loved that it made sense of a story I've never understood; not that I gave it much effort or even read all the way through, but it had always been a bit of a puzzle. So much nonsense. Seeing the story gave it shape for me. And then, even more, I loved the idea of Alice becoming Alice. "You've lost your muchness," the Mad Hatter said. And she found it again. She grew back into herself. "I sometimes believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast," said Alice. "Count them, Alice. One: there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two: and a  cake that can make you grow. Three: animals can talk. Four, Alice! Cats can disappear. Five: there's a place called Wonderland. Six: I can slay the Jabberwocky."




















*I seriously have had this thought lately. A lot. The part I failed to remember every time though was that I tend to have long periods of singleness between relationships. This is not because no one ever wants to date me. This is because I never want to date anyone. Or, more accurately, I nearly always want to date someone, but hardly ever want to date anyone in particular. And I'm a big believer in not latching on to just any old person and starting a relationship. Partly this is because I'm kind of a closet misanthropist. But! I can slay the Jabberwocky. FTW.

There it is.

The laundry is in the dryer, the week-old clean laundry is piled in a basket and overflowing at the top of the stairs, and I am trying to squeeze another single-friends engagement into tomorrow. I sincerely hope that I can.


I was just watching the Mumford and Sons "Little Lion Man" video, and thinking how great it was that they were evidently a part of the Grammy's, though they're a bluegrassy sort of band, and bluegrass doesn't tend to hit the mainstream. And then I thought back to the episode of 60 Minutes I watched with my dad earlier, where they were discussing the revolution in Egypt and the rescuing of the 33 Chilean miners this past fall, both of which I followed in the news. And I thought to myself, you know? These are exciting times to live in. Things are really happening these days. I remembered a conversation I had with a few of my uncles a summer or two back, when they gave me a shot of vodka from a pewter shot glass that had a silver dollar as the bottom, and gave me a lesson on all the best music of the sixties--Ry Cooder and Little Feat, in particular--and I remarked that "all the good stuff happened before I was born." My uncle laughed, was flattered, and said it wasn't true. And maybe he was right. Maybe there's been excitement going on this whole time, and I've been utterly blind to it. I feel like I've been searching for a pulse in the world, and my fingers are finally finding it. Finding this generation's pulse. Finding my pulse, too.



Little Lion Man:

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.

I'm doing all right.

I want a rainbow raincoat, with the colors bleeding down into one another in rings until, at the bottom, purple. I want a white umbrella that I can paint with raindrops and sunshine. I want bare feet and warm puddles and distant thunder and, after nightfall, a crescendo of fireflies glittering across the fields and up into the full, luscious trees under a royal blue-black sky.

I guess I can wait, though. Afternoons of grey skies and chill wind and freezing rain have their place. And I felt so much joy, driving home after tutoring tonight, that I laughed aloud and nearly wept.




I don't love any of the videos of it, but despite my strong issues with smoking, I do love this song. Can't help it.





A quote posted by a facebook friend: "He that but looketh on a plate of ham and eggs to lust after it hath already committed breakfast with it in his heart." -C.S. Lewis. I have no idea whether Lewis actually said/wrote this, but I hope so.



Song I was listening to when suddenly smitten with a wave of nearly overwhelming joy:



I've been on a little bit of a country kick lately. Don't judge me.

Delicioso

We discovered and became quickly addicted to these whilst in Scotland. Thank you, Fisher's In The City (best seafood in Scotland) restaurant. From the bottom of my minty heart.



They, along with scone mix and clotted cream (foods of the gods, I am telling you), can be had here.

Christmas excellence.

Tonight I came home from tutoring, ate some baked mac-and-cheese with my dad, and went Christmas caroling with Mom, Chloe, Hartley, Lael, Celeste (H&L's daughter), and Bill and Lynn-Ellen, who are the pastor and pastor's wife, respectively, of the church in which I grew up. We all live within a couple of blocks of one another, and when Mom and Chloe and I caroled with Hartley and Lael (and possibly Celeste?) last year, Bill and Lynn-Ellen opened their door and asked why we hadn't asked them. We love them, so they came with us this time. It was fun, and it's nice that people in real life tend to be more excited about carolers than people in movies. After about two blocks (and we were only really hitting one side of the street) everyone went home, and Chloe and I went tot Hartley and Lael's house to hang out and have hot chocolate. I ended up sitting in front of these:

which Hartley has made as Christmas presents for various family and friends. They are (with the exception of the hook, upper right) steel oyster knives. (He's a freelance carpenter and blacksmith.) You can't tell very well on the cell phone picture, but the tempering colors on the blades are beautiful. I think I'd like to commission a cutlery set someday. Hartley said, "that would be fun."


Lastly, this.

Laws of nature:

They're more like guidelines than actual rules.






On another note, the bright red, orange, red-orange and red-yellow and orange-yellow and yellow jewel tones on our street have begun fading to pink. I am reminded of the way an incandescent bulb glows after the power is switched off, or the way embers glow when the fire dies. Shockingly bright for a time, and then dull and low, and then black. Cary Street, which I drive to work, is redder than ours, and the way across the river is more yellow. Something in the soil, perhaps.

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.

Tonight!

First, an excerpt from my Blogger stats page:

Pageviews all time history

2,222

Pretty cool, huh? Now, on to business.



TONIGHT ZOMG I SAW THE COOLEST THING EVER. You are just going to have to suck it up and forgive me for typing in all caps, because it really, really was that cool. I made Miley wait until nearly 9pm for a walk, and I am so glad I did. I also let her lead me down a cul-de-sac that we don't usuall walk, and I am so glad I did. Halfway down the street I happened to glance up into the sky and saw the most enormous, spectacular shooting star that I have ever witnessed. It was incredibly bright and slightly orange, and had this ridiculously long tail streaming out behind it. It had already begun when I looked up, and I saw it fly for a couple of seconds, at which point it broke into two pieces and fell a little farther behind the trees. If a normal shooting star is this big (.), this one was about this big (*). And with the tail, it looked about like this, only far more starlike and linear: *.................

It was really amazing.



As a side note, I highly recommend an extendable leash for single-dog walks. Miley is about 60-70% more obedient and less infuriating when she's on one, though it's probable that her socialization this weekend helped a lot. For instance, after being walked at a few gas stations next to the road, she shows significantly less excitement and thus less noise when a car passes us in the neighborhood. Fantastic.


Next, I want to announce that I actually cooked myself dinner tonight. People who know me well, particularly Chris I'd think, will be properly impressed by this. I turned on the stove. I made a two-egg omelette* in olive oil with green pepper, red onion, garlic, and grated parmesan. Really good, and I wasn't even forced. It's just that there's no one home and no non-frozen leftovers and I didn't want Raisin Bran.


Next, this is super cool:




And lastly, this is super true (as corroborated by virtually everything I've ever read that wasn't written by an employee of one of these companies) and not cool:
















*This is code for "scrambled eggs with stuff"

Sometimes, I have a bit of a one-track mind.

I really want to learn to dance to zydeco. Have I mentioned this before? I really do. I must admit that it started when I heard the Paul Simon song "That Was Your Mother," and then it hugely intensified when I saw a few people really do it well. There are plenty of videos of it on youtube, but although I've seen people dance it well in real life several times, I have only found one video of the dance being done justice. Unfortunately, it's pretty much the worst quality video imaginable. I have a feeling I've posted it before, but whatever. Friends, I give you "Harold & Mandy dancing Zydeco":



There are a couple of others that are good, but not quite magical...

Here's Harold and... some other chick I don't have the name of,

And here is a clip of a guy and woman dancing zydeco, though their frame is really weird here,

And HERE is a video of some footwork. Really, aside from the general fabulousness, it's the spins that are my favorite, and it's the floating-across-the-floor heel-knee-toe-turn-slide stuff that I can't wrap my head around. Good gracious.

Lastly, this was one of my favorite songs long, long before I ever even heard the word zydeco. I had never seen the music video before just now:






PS: if you go rifling through the zydeco dancing videos on Youtube, you may notice (as I did) that there are lots and lots of videos, posted by different people, of the same couple dancing at random festivals throughout Louisiana. They don't always show up at the beginning of the video, but they usually dress to match each other, they always wear cowboy boots, and they always have enormous belt buckles. It's pretty awesome.

I meant to post this at least a week ago.

Okay, five days ago. Whatever. But remember that book I quoted from? The "eat local" book that talked about asparagus? Sara read my post and sent this email:

Oh Marie - my comment that would be on your blog if blogspot had a
place for me in its heart:

HI MARIE ITS YOUR GOOD FRIEND SARA, I told you to read that book a
million times the second I finished it and you refused. You could have
had this joy a year ago!

Love, Me.

I have this thing where I don't like to read books that people recommend to me. I don't know why. I've probably missed out on a lot of good books that way, particularly considering the number of books that I've finally given in and read and then completely fallen in love with. Oh well.

In other news, it's Tuesday. I had forgotten until Maggie sent me a text message at 7:36 pm saying "Im at your house Glee starts at eight," to which I responded, "omg I completely forgot it was tuesday*."

Other:

Three "words" (did I come up with a better name for these? If so I can't remember, and I can't remember how to spell capcha/captcha/whatever) by Blogger I ran across today:

merversp, datis, and coysec. Ta-da.


Lastly, a message from somebody who gives a crap.

Recent confirmations of humanity: words and a video

Recent Bogger "prove that you're human" words*:

inemness

poleasew

innico


It gets better project:


(Shared via Emma)


















*For lack of a better term