Why oh Why, Sly? Friday, March 31, 2006

What I would like to know is how Sylvester Stallonebecame such a heartthrob. Doesn't anyone realize his name is Sylvester?! SYLVESTER! How can half of a 1970's America be in love with someone with that name?

Would Jude Law be who he is today if he was named Wilbur? Let's try some others on for size -- Elmer Ledger, Morty Gyllenhal, Herb Cruise. Ummm, yeah. Not so much.

She's Done It Again

Baloney Pony...HA...(snort). I must say I completely agree with her.

The Girl who cried DIET Thursday, March 30, 2006

Last night, on my way home from the bus stop, I had an epiphany of sorts. My lack of physical exercise habits is not motivation based at all. It's not an issue of self-discipline either. It's an issue of me being a lazy couch-loving, television loving, processed food loving, sack of medium-sized lazy bones.

Wedding season is fast approaching, and I REFUSE to be the girl on the dance floor with the jiggly chicken wing arms. This means that I actually have to do something about my body - something other than whine, that is. I wrote down some short-term goals on a notepad, took my measurements, and much like last summer/spring, I'm back on the wagon. (I hate that phrase) This isn't like the "diet" I was on about a month ago -- the one that allowed me to eat hash browns for breakfast, consume 64 fluid oz. of Diet Coke daily, and graze over the millions of sugary treats that sit in our office kitchen.

I love that diet. But I digress.

So I went to the damn gym - 20 minutes run/walk on the treadmill, 15 minutes on the Precor, and did situps/pushups at home. I ran, people - you have no idea what this means. I also took photos of myself as motivation. I would post them on this site, but that takes things into a territory that even I am not sure I'm comfortable with. Let's just say that I see my former teeny body in those photos, covered by a big old layer of unnecessary blubber.

Wish me luck!

The Warmth Wednesday, March 29, 2006

I can't seem to shake the chill from my bones today - especially my hands. Considering that it's not particularly cold out, I can only attribute this to one thing...spring fever. All fevers start with the chills, I suppose, except this one isn't likely to go away any time soon. As much as I hate hot weather, I always get antsy this time of year while waiting for warm weather.


I took the photo above on our 2005 summer vacation to the South Carolina Low-Country. Despite the horrendous sunburn I got while kayaking, the vacation was wonderful, and quiet, and warm. By posting this photo, I feel I am summoning the Gods to bring us some warmer weather. Please?

Friendship Is...

Friendship is when you get a phone call insisting that your friends accompany you on your nightly dog walk, because a person in your exact demographic has gotten attacked & raped less than 2 blocks away from your apartment.

Thanks, you guys. I promise I'll only use you as protection until the police get someone into custody. How often does someone get to say THAT?! You're the best.

Laughing Out Loud Tuesday, March 28, 2006

If I were ever put in this unfortunate situation, I really hope I'd have at least 25% of the sense of humor this chick does about it.

Click Here

PG-13 Monday, March 27, 2006

I rarely do entries like this, but here goes...

Confession: If there were a movie made of my life, the big love scene (where the boy and girl eventually get together) would be very specific. Not too mushy, very little PDA, and it would need to be partially in slow motion. Why, you ask? Because I said so, internet. Because it's a movie of MY life, not yours. There wouldn't be anything overtly sexual in the scene - only innuendo and vague motion, because let's be honest - for better or worse, I am not Paris Hilton.

Additionally, there would be no dialogue. The only sound would be the song "Secret World" by Peter Gabriel, playing throughout. A very specific recording of it, in fact, the one from a 2-CD set of live recordings - the name escapes me but the CDs are red and yellow. (Jonna's blog got me thinking about his music)

For those of you that know me well, you know that I have an unhappy history with Peter Gabriel songs, particularly "In Your Eyes" which I hate. But I'll gladly make an exception for "Secret World" - mostly because it makes me want to...[edited out of a sense of obligation to be discreet and also because my mother might be reading this]

The song is just so sexy, I can't explain why I'm drawn to it. Listening to it makes me think of that electric, tactile moment between two people - that instant when you feel like you're going to explode right out of your skin, like all of your nerve endings are raw and exposed. The bass line thumps like a quickened heartbeat, and the melody is sort of lush and mournful in tone. I can't get enough of it.

1 Gin & Tonic, and counting Sunday, March 26, 2006

Weekend update

Saw: V for Vendetta. On IMAX no less (Sean's clever idea). Despite the occasionally gratuitous violence, I loved it - I'm still thinking about the storyline and the characters. Worst part? Natalie Portman's british accent. Best part? Stephen Fry's portrayal of an enigmatic tv personality.

Read: Well, started reading a book by No Uncertain Terms by William Safire. It's so interesting and dense, I can only handle it in short bursts.

Ate: Afghan rice & chicken. Well, technically, Sally Field made it to complement our mother/daughter book club discussion on the Kite Runner...so is it traditional food if it's made by a farm girl from southeast Wisconsin? But it was surprisingly good, and I couldn't taste the cumin (which I hate) at all. Also: yummy make-your-own pizzas at J&J's place. Thanks, guys!

Heard: Found it under the trunk carpet flap that covers my spare tire - Matchbox 20's Mad Season. Sadly the entire CD reminds me of an ugly break-up in college, and yet, some of the songs remain my all time favorites. It also helps that Rob Thomas is so incredibly H.O.T. I'm just sayin'.

Planned: Release of new site - it's coming, I swear.

Realized: Bosses away at meeting in Russia this week - perfect week to debut new site and get absolutely nothing done. Also, cocktails are the ideal way to wrap up the weekend. But only two. I'm going to stop at two. This is my last one, I swear.

Tag, you're it! Friday, March 24, 2006

Jonna has tagged me for a "quirky" post. Like her, I feel that I have a laundry list of things about me that are slightly off-kilter, or a bit bizarre, but when it came to listing them, I drew a blank. It took me all day to come up with the following five things...

1. I never use the entire thing of deodorant/anti-perspirant. I switch because all the health magazines dictate it (something to do with the body's reaction to one combination of chemicals fading in effectiveness, I don't know - look it up)...but I also switch because I inevitably become bored with my current choice. Once I get down to about 1/2 inch left, I go out under the guise of buying a "replacement" stick - but who am I kidding? I start using the new one right away, of course.

2. My handwriting has been, and probably always will be, completely inconsistent. One day it's cursive, the next it's all caps, the next it's a hybrid, and so on. I'm very OCD about controlling it if I'm writing a letter, or note to someone. Even on a post-it...if the inconsistency crops up, I'll rewrite the entire thing until it looks uniform. It's labor intensive, I'll admit, but I do it anyway.

3. I. Hate. Paperclips. My work requires interaction with anywhere from a "little bit" to "a whopping, massive amount of" paperwork. In organizing this, I must admit that I will pick staples over paperclips in a heartbeat. I would rather have papers lined by the pock marks of staples past, instead of having them all f***ed up because this paper clip fell off, and that one grabbed papers it shouldn't have - it's a house of cards. I ban paperclips.

4. I have a somewhat bipolar social personality. Right off, I can be brash, direct, and sarcastic - sometimes (but not often) to a fault. I have no qualms about dropping the f-bomb in front of people I've never met before (provided they're not friends of my parents, or relatives). I've danced on bars, sung karaoke, and done my time as the "life of the party." On the flip side, I'm very anal about etiquette, manners, and proper behavior. I always always ALWAYS write prompt thank you notes, I'm a freak about bad grammar and spelling in writing, and people with bad speech skills drive me insane. I think that Emily Post had a point about a lot of issues, but that doesn't keep me from entertaining the idea of a flip cup marathon with some friends this weekend. This dichotomy can be one of the most frustrating things about me. My friends are special, special people for dealing with this.

5. Excepting the very first one, all of my boyfriends have been children of divorced families. In contrast, Sally Field and Dick Cheney will celebrate 35 years of wedded bliss this June. I infer nothing from this - it's simply an observation that I made one day. I don't think much about the psychology of it all, mostly because I don't think a divorced family dictates a person's worth, personality, or behaviors. But it is a little unusual, so there you have it.

I hereby tag Jen and AM.

If I Had a Hammer

I got downtown quickly this morning, and took the opportunity of the clear, crisp morning to wander around. I schlepped over to my favorite hidden, never-busy Dunkin Donuts and took the long way back to the office. This route took me sideways, sort of, past the construction site of the Trump Tower.

Do you know what I saw? A man, standing on the edge of an enormous concrete post, hammering away at two steel beams. I don't have an extensive knowledge of construction, but I'm fairly certain that when connecting two steel I-beams, a hammer isn't necessary. An industrial grade blowtorch, maybe, but not a hammer. But let's assume he knew what he was doing, and wasn't just an imposter or a teamster working his 3 hours for the day.

Oh my God, tangential thinking will be the death of me. Spit it out, Jamie.

The point I'm trying to make: Doesn't it seem weird that hammers are still being used on major construction jobs? Hasn't some MIT mechanical engineer figured out a way to just make skyscrapers that snap together like legos? The Trump Tower still needs individuals hammering away?! Can one person really make a difference on a project of that scale? Do you think that person feels proud upon the completion of a building of that magnitude, knowing that he/she was one of thousands that made it happen?

Train Spotting Thursday, March 23, 2006

Took a detour after work yesterday to Printer's Row, to put down the remainder of the earnest money on the new condo...I don't close for awhile, so that's all I can do until this summer. Walked around the neighborhood and was pleasantly surprised by the development in the area, and I don't mean condos. I'm talking restaurants, bars, bookstores, movie theatres, it really is shaping up to be one of the best decisions I've made in quite some time. Yay!

Then I got on the red line to get back up north, and the freak show began. I love the eL. I sat down next to a man who was the African-American equivalent of Krusty the Klown - completely bald on top, and wild dreads on the sides and back, growing like ivy over his scalp. They were short enough to stick straight out, and I had to physically control myself to keep from laughing.

At Fullerton, a nervous-looking young man got on the train and sat down across from me. Fairly non-descript, really, I probably wouldn't have even noticed him if not for the ENORMOUS stack of Readers he was carrying. We're talking in the double digits, folks. What could he be doing with a frillion free newspapers, I ask you? Decoupaging a coffee table, perhaps? Collage art with preschoolers?

Life is a mystery.

WYSIWYG Wednesday, March 22, 2006

As a result of my efforts to prepare my new website, I've been thinking a lot about exactly where I fit in the blogosphere. I'm not a mommy blogger, sports blogger, gay blogger, or even one of those ultra-hip-i-wear-lots-of-black-and-listen-to-the-dead-milkmen-and-go-to-live-poetry-readings bloggers. I'm just me, take it or leave it.

That being said, I've also spent some time evaluating my photography as it relates to this site. My interest in photography popped up long before I ever knew what a blog was, and I have this beautiful camera, and sometimes I'm not even sure if my photos are good. I have this awful tendency to overanalyze, and criticize myself.

Take, for instance, this photo of my niece's hand, taken while she was asleep in her car seat:

At first glance, I like the image itself, and then I start wondering, "Maybe it looks like she has half-fingers because her fist is curled. Will people think she lost all her fingertips in a freak daycare accident?"

It's weird, this blogging, and after almost 2 years of it I'm still not sure whether it's the right fit. As far as creative outlets go, it gets the job done...but is it worth the time I spend? I guess, like many things in life, I just need to stop critiquing and acknowledge it for what it is. A very public diary. And if people don't like my photos, it's not like I'm trying to impress anyone - go ahead with your hate-orade. Bring it on, I'm ready.

Celebrity Sighting Tuesday, March 21, 2006

On my way through security in our building lobby, I ran into John Mahoney! He is really teeny in person, and was wearing jeans and gym shoes. He was chatting it up with the security guards and seemed genuinely nice.

He is most notable for his role as Martin Crane on the television show "Frasier," but is reknowned, especially here in Chicago, for his work on stage.

Weird!

This makes me feel sort of dirty

And yet, it's entertaining.

Your Stripper Song Is

Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard "Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on Livin' like a lover with a radar phone Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp Demolition woman, can I be your man?" Break out the baby oil, you rock it old school.

What Song Should You Strip To?

Wuh? Monday, March 20, 2006

Coming back from lunch today, I rode the elevator with a tall, thin man (resembling Timothy Hutton somewhat, actually) who was combing his hair. In the elevator. In front of me. It was just us in there.

Is it wrong that I find his hygiene timing a bit odd? Doesn't it seem strange that he would comb his hair in front of a complete stranger? Productive vanity, at least to me, seemed like something you'd want to take care of prior to leaving your house in the morning. (shrugs)

Then he put his comb away in his front lapel pocket, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to keep a comb in your front pocket. Men, can one of you please explain this to me?

On the Mend

The most annoying thing about being sick (at least for O/C freaks like me) is sitting still. By the time I started feeling better, I'd already had a long mental list of things that needed to be taken care of and QUICK. Hopped up on sugar and caffeine, I did 99% of these things on Saturday. It was like I'd put on my superhero cape (apron?) of productivity and blown the proverbial evil list to smithereens.

In my next life, I want to be the lead singer of a band called "The Smithereens." But I digress.

Highlights of the big weekend include de-doghairing and disinfecting every surface in my apartment (including baseboards), FINALLY taking the damn christmas tree downstairs to storage, and reorganizing all my hanging files. I did everything short of alphabetizing the condiments in the fridge. I have also discovered the joys of "Oust" spray. It's not just for the bathroom, folks. Anyone with a pet should own a can, or two.

For me, this is a big weekend. Sad, but true.

Erin go Memegh Friday, March 17, 2006

As usual, Paige has done something and made it sound significant and interesting, whereas mine will probably just make me sound like a bored sorority girl.

3 things you wish for (just for you)

1. a strong metabolism to make up for the fact that i never exercise
2. happy, healthy children (someday)
3. a sense of humor

3 things you would do to/for yourself if there was no one to judge you (or if you had the guts to do it!)

1. rhinoplasty
2. open my own dance studio
3. get braces...again. (LESSON TO ALL: WEAR YOUR RETAINERS)

3 bad habits you have

1. a bit too sarcastic sometimes
2. i pick at my feet
3. my intolerance of dumb people (or smart people that ask dumb questions)

3 insecurities you feel

1. ummm, cellulite?
2. never having my finances settled like i should
3. lack of self-discipline

3 talents/skills you wish you had

1. i need to learn to stick up for myself, be more assertive
2. vision
3. spatial reasoning/ability

3 things that you would do if you had more time

1. take ice skating lessons
2. get my laundry done on a timely basis
3. write more letters to my grandmother

3 things that bring you peace/relaxation

1. walking the dog
2. reading
3. talking with my best friends

3 things that spark your creativity

1. dancing
2. painting
3. listening to music

Shamrockin'...or not

It's St. Patrick's Day. Ho-hum. I am almost ashamed of how indifferent I am to the whole shebang this year. I've had my share of hilarious, amazing, great times in St. Paddy's Days past, but this year is different. Maybe it's because I've been sick recently, and I'm just tired...I don't know. I don't feel like going out and pretending to be Irish to score free beer (my favorite 3/17 pasttime), I don't feel like wearing green, HELL - I don't even feel like drinking.


I'm the Grinch that stole St. Patrick's Day.

Am I taking crazy pills?! Thursday, March 16, 2006

I saw this in this morning's RedEye - the tabloid version of the Chicago Tribune Metro section. Is it just me, or is this Ozzie Guillen? Moreover, if it is, why on EARTH would he be posing as a waiter for a local churrascarria? Wouldn't someone have convinced him to get SOME sort of PR out of this? Maybe don a team jersey, or at least a logo'ed polo?


This is Ozzie, isn't it?

Reheated, Refused

I ban leftovers. This is for two reasons, mostly.

1. They never taste as good the second time around.
2. The shelf life is short, so I typically find myself eating them for the next available meal. Which means that I have just eaten the same thing twice in a row.

I know it's wasteful, but it's just one of those things.

Did you grow up in a "clean your plate, or no dessert!" family?

Cough...Cough...Hoooooccccckkkkk

Had to take an impromptu hiatus for the past couple days to tend to myself, as I was stricken with a whopping case of strep throat. On Tuesday afternoon, I left work early to get to the doctor...fell asleep in the waiting room, then when the nurse woke me up to get me into an exam room, I stood up too quickly, walked through the doorway into the 'back', and promptly began to faint on the other side.

Turns out fainting can get you into the doctor's "top priority list" pretty darn quick.

Until yesterday, I had no idea HOW AWFUL midday television is. I basically spent the entire day changing my clothes - once I'd feverishly sweated through one set of pajamas, I'd change into other, and so on. I also became irrationally angry at the fact that "Ellen" was a re-run. The one day I'm stuck at home, and my favorite talk show is a RE-RUN?! Inconceivable!

Fortunately, the dog loved having me around. He invented new (and seemingly uncomfortable) ways to lay directly on top of me. In fact, I think his body temperature helped me to eventually break my fever...at one point, he was in a dead sleep (as in legs akimbo, eyes shut, the works) directly on top of my ribcage.

Back at work today, trying to mete out my ibuprofen accordingly so that I don't do drastic damage to my precious liver. It worked so hard just to survive college...

Too Sick to Write Anything of Substance Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Seriously - I'm at work today, but only running on one engine. Something is very wrong with me, and I don't mean mentally. Being the lazy blogger that I am, I'm just going to post some photos.

These are from last weekend - our final weekend, as a family, in what was supposed to be my parent's retirement home (they have now decided that they don't want to be quite that far away).

Sally Field decided to keep Brianna busy by giving her cupcake liners to play with. Someone decided they would make an excellent hat, and we spent the rest of that day lounging around, Shriner-style.


Both babies were fast asleep during our Italian dinner on Saturday night. Thank goodness we got some pasta and meatballs to-go, because Bri woke up when we got home and was a hungry, hungry toddler.



Grant basically spent the weekend being adorable, and throwing up formula. Good times, good times.

An Open Letter Monday, March 13, 2006

Dearest Darling-est Doc-sicle,

With each day we spend together, my love for you grows, as does my confusion regarding some of your behavior. When I picked you up from the kennel last night, you did everything short of jumping four feet up and into my arms...yet when we went to bed, you refused to sleep in your bed, preferring to nestle amongst a big pile of dirty towels and blankets. At 4 am, you were sound asleep on top of an old beach towel that was pulled half out of a plastic, Whole Foods shopping bag. And to that I say, "WTF?!"

You behaved so well during your bath last night, simply standing still and waiting for it to end quickly...only to escape post-drying session and roll in circles all over the couch. No amount of Febreze can undo what you've done to that cushion.


Sometimes I look at you and think about what would have happened to you if I hadn't come along and adopted you from those nice people in Michigan. I wonder if you'd still be running around that enormous farm with the great danes, huskies, and boxers, thinking you were as big as they. My heart swells with love for you, and I just want to hug you forever like that annoying blond, pigtailed girl in the newer WB cartoons that squeezes people to death with too much emotion.

Then you do something stupid, like poop on the living room rug, and once again the universe is in balance.

Giddy Up, Cowgirl Friday, March 10, 2006

Yesterday, I went for my annual exam at the doctor. If the photo below doesn't give you enough information about which doctor it was, then I can't help you.

Either way, does anyone notice something odd about this photo? Women out there - something look suspicious or "off" to you?

What will the pharmaceutical companies think of next, huh?! Covers for the stirrups? Is this really necessary? Moreover, do the companies want the patients to associate being poked and prodded in unholy places (and the resulting discomfort) with their drug?

I'm both disturbed and, oddly enough, amused by this sales tactic. Talk about using every alternative "billboard" space you can! I must admit that my feet were more comfortable, in a creepy "you should never be comfortable in this situation" way.

Quick & Dirty Update Thursday, March 09, 2006

Condo Update
Good news earlier today, an identical unit opened up in a different part of the building. Here's hoping that I won't get the royal screw AGAIN and be forced to sue for breach of contract. Keep all fingers and toes crossed until you hear otherwise.

Dog Update
Only got up once last night - around 4am, I think. Up again at 5:50 to beg about getting in bed with me, and of course I let him up, where he slept like an angel on top of my right arm until it fell asleep at 7 am, waking me up.

Reading Update
The Kite Runner was good, but not earth-shatteringly-life-changingly good. I was shocked at some of the more vivid descriptions of the destruction of Kabul -- I can't believe that 40 years ago, my mother and my aunt were backpacking across that region ALONE and stayed safe and sound. Pakistan, India, Turkey, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq - two young women by themselves in another world and now it's a war torn, death zone. Strange and chilling.

Weight Update
Haven't lost much - maybe 2 or 3 lbs. Since I'm not really doing a good job of sticking to the diet, this is not surprising to me.

New Site Update
Basic design is complete. I need to resize the banner, and toy around a little with the stylesheet, but for the most part, it's up and running. I enlisted the advice of a couple, trustworthy blogging colleagues and I'm pretty confident with it thus far. Lord knows I'll probably redesign the entire thing again in 6 months. Tentative rollout is scheduled for Monday the 20th.

Family Update
Sally Field and Dick Cheney are undergoing renovations in their city pad, and about to sell their beloved house in Galena. Which means that, for the first time in their entire lives, they will be city folk through and through. EMPTY NESTERS MY EYE. We are all headed out to the boondocks to celebrate our last weekend there, as a family. I plan on returning with many photos of small, adorable children, and a guilt complex surrounding the weekend kenneling of my dog.

You must see this immediately Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Oh. My. God.

Click Here

Reading

"Mind you," Rufus Cade rumbled to himself, leaning back in the armchair as the door closed, "you're an arsehole too, Ashley Bastard-Garland. Let's face it, we're all arseholes. Ow!" He had burnt his bottom lip on the last thin quarter-inch of joint. "All arseholes, except Ned fucking Maddstone. Which makes him," he reasoned to himself, "the biggest arsehole of all."

It's Hard Out Here for a College-Bound Student

Oops

Sad Tidings Tuesday, March 07, 2006

I just found out that both Dana Reeve and Kirby Puckett died yesterday. She was an otherwise healthy, non-smoker stricken with advanced lung cancer, and he was one of my favorite MLB players growing up - a big hitter for Minnesota, felled by an unexpected stroke. They were 44 and 45, respectively.

Sort of puts losing my condo into perspective, doesn't it?

In the Middle of the Night

I'm having some trouble with the dog's sleeping patterns of late. For the past several months, Doc has taken to waking up (and I mean REALLY waking up) in the night and scratching at the bed, and sometimes even barking. He gets out of his bed, puts his front paws on mine, then scratches the shit out of my bed frame and linens.

Because I am one of THOSE people who requires a little more sleep than most, I've been getting up to get a treat for him to SHUT HIM THE HELL UP and that usually does the trick. I know, I know, I'm just rewarding him for waking up and bothering me. But when I'm 99% asleep, that's the only surefire tactic I know of to get him quieted down.


It's genuinely weird. For instance, last night he was up at 2:43am, 3:49am, and again at 4:55am. Barking. For all my sleepy (and now pissed off) neighbors to hear. Sometimes I'm standing at the bus stop in the mornings, and can't remember whether I fed him breakfast -- usually breakfast is the last shut-up method, but I try not to feed him until at least 5:30 or 6am.

Somebody please tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do. I've tried barking collars, misting water in his face (as a negative association), muzzling, the works. Do you think that if I paid to have him walked during the day, that he would sleep more soundly at night? Any dog owners out there with advice?

Please? Help the sleepy, crabby, blogger?

*sigh* Monday, March 06, 2006

Guess that'll teach me to count my chickens before they hatch. On the last hour of the last day of the legal review period on my condo contract, things fell apart and I am now back in the market. That's right - lost the damn studio. Basically, it was a contractual issue on the part of the developer, a "double sell" according to my lawyer. Oh, and I had better get my damn earnest money back and RIGHT QUICK ABOUT IT.

I'm more disappointed than anything, but I will strive to keep my optimism about me because (at this point) it's about all I have going for me. Wish me luck.

Requisite Oscar Synopsis

You know what I love most of all about having a blog, and being an avid blog reader? Whenever something major happens in Hollywood or Washington D.C., every blog attempts to post something witty or erudite about the event, as if they were there. I am not one of these people, in fact, my post about the Oscars last year was one of my worst posts. Ever. That being said, I feel compelled by the blogiverse to write a couple things down about last night's festivities.

Best Song - LOVED that the Academy is finally acknowledging the influence of Hip Hop on the entertainment business (and the world). HATED the rap trio's acceptance blurt. I'm not calling it a speech - it lacked basic grammatical structure. That's not refreshing, that's rude.

Terence Howard - LOVED him for bringing his adorable son as his date. HATED the boutonniere combined with that ugly diamond pin on his lapel. Hey T - my grandma wants her brooch back.

It must be love - When I was thinking to myself about how Tom Hanks must have grown his hair to film The DaVinci Code, Sean said, "Has he always had that much hair?" Immediately following the "jinx!" moment was a short conversation on the logistics of hair plugs.

Opening video montage - Clever idea, oddly executed. Billy Crystal looked fat.

Best Dresses - Salma Hayek, Rachel Weisz, Sandra Bullock, Michelle Williams, Felicity Huffman

Worst Dresses - Paul Haggis' wife, Reese Witherspoon, Keira Knightley, Judi Dench

Best Suits - George Clooney, Jon Stewart, Philip Seymour Hoffman, that guy who directed Tsotsi (won for Best Foreign Language Film)

Worst Suits - The one director from Crash with the blindingly white tie, Will Smith, Heath Ledger (tapered pants!), Ben Stiller

So there you have it. Even if you don't give a rat's ass about the outcome, one must admit that they are pretty entertaining to watch. OH, and huge huge HUGE props to Jon Stewart for being the most interesting host since the Steve Martin era.

Reading Friday, March 03, 2006

Baba was impossible to ignore, even in his sleep. I used to bury cotton wisps in my ears, pull the blanket over my head, and still the sounds of Baba's snoring-- so much like a growling truck engine-- penetrated the walls. And my room was across the hall from Baba's bedroom. How my mother ever managed to sleep in the same room as him is a mystery to me. It's on the long list of things I would have asked my mother if I had ever met her.

I prefer to find unpublicized, non-Oprah-endorsed gems to read, but this one was for book club and everybody has been talking about it, so I figured, "What the hell?"

Dreams Thursday, March 02, 2006

Thanks to Heather Armstrong, nobody really talks about their jobs on their blogs. Tequila flirts with it at times, but very anonymously. Deep down, I shy away from it out of sheer guilt which I can't explain to you here, because that would require telling many specific details about my company and the nature of my work.

But, I digress. Blogs are funny like that.

Instead of talking about real work, I'm going to talk about fantasy work. I always wanted to open my own dance academy. I still do. (sigh) Someday...

What did you dream about doing for a living when you were younger?

Home Sweet Studio

I know you were all waiting on pins and needles to find out, but I ended up choosing the updated, studio apartment. The rest of the downpayment is due today, and after that, I just have to deal with the renovations being made over the next several months.

I won't close on it until sometime in July, but until then, will be very busy making all sorts of matrices, charts, and lists of the things I need to accomplish before moving, things that need to be done immediately upon move-in, and things that I meant to do by the time I turned 26. The lists, they control my life sometimes - I tend to spend my time documenting instead of doing. It's a problem, I admit.

I guess I'll be much more excited as the closing date draws near. Or I'll be too busy looking at paint swatches, and rearranging my drawn-to-scale-furniture-layout yet again.

Spring Cleaning Wednesday, March 01, 2006

And by cleaning, I mean detox.

Thanks to the THREE weddings I have coming up this year (one of which I am happy to be in - rocking the wedding party, aww yeah), I thought that it might be time to get my ass in gear. Literally.

Allow me to temper this post with a quick statement. I don't think that I am fat. I do, however, know for a fact that I'm larger now than I have been in YEARS and I don't have beer and pokey sticks on which to squarely place the blame. I also need to work on my tone - possibly by visiting the gym which I pay for and never use.

As is, I don't think that anyone wants to see me shaking my stuff to Kool & The Gang. Not in a dress, not in pants, not in a burlap sack. So it's time to reign it in, so that I can feel more comfortable and confident about certain parts of my body. In short, I am back on South Beach. Not religiously, but there is certainly something to be said of my success last time I was on it.

Be prepared for periodic updates of my success (knock on wood) and if I really get big results, before and after photos! This will NOT become a diet blog...it doesn't deserve that much attention, really. Until then, wish me luck!

Overheard on the CTA this morning

While slowly coming out from under a cloud of residual NyQuil, I heard the following conversation.

Girl #1 - Oh my God, look at the bus thingie above the driver [blinking info bar]!
Girl #2 - Huh?
Girl #1 - It says that it's March 1st! It's March 1st?!
Girl #2 - Dude, where did February go?!
Girl #1 - Seriously. It was like...the shortest month ever!

Ummmm......wuuhhhh?