Greetings from CinCin

I'm here! It's BLEEPing hot. And by hot, I don't mean the sun shines and makes me hot. Walking out of the air-conditioned hotel into the Cincinnati air is like walking into a hot blanket that's been soaked in hot water and put in a hot dryer where hot air blows on you.
When I stepped out of the airport last night I immediately tried to think of metaphors for the humidity. "The air clenched the water in fists." No. "The air fisted the water." No. "The air held the water loosely, so that it might drench anyone who dared step from the manufactured environment into the cruel night air." Closer.

Today I went to the Rosenthal Center for Contemporary Art, called the CAC. (Good thing they didn't add another "A".) It was designed by Zaha Hadid, and I came to see the building so I could write about it for the DFL.
My favorite aspect of the building was the curved cement where the wall met the floor. It looks like a place to skateboard.
I was most precoccupied with the stairs. They are low and unnaturally long, which forces one to walk more slowly. Form dictating function, in a way.
Through the window I spied this painting on a building across the street. Clearly done for the benefit of CAC patrons. But the man looks exasperated. Also, like he's melting.
The Reds were playing today. The street next to the stadium is Pete Rose Street or Way or something. It should be Alley, right? Apparently they still love him here.

Let me just tell you my tale of woe: I got in last night and the hotel had no record of my reservation. I must have bad hotel karma. I found myself thinking, for the second time in less than a week, "Anyone can take a reservation, but can you hold a reservation?" It was the fault of Travelocity. So kind Scott at the Cincinnatian found me a room (a parlor, actually, but who am I to complain about the thin fold out bed?) and I called David in Bombay to work out all the kinks. I was on hold for the greater part of an hour. Luckily I found a magazine! If I had to listen to that recording of a couple talking about how to change reservations one more time I was going to gouge my eyes out with some of the sharp artwork in the room! Anyway, I got a refund and made my own, new reservations at the Westin. All hail the Westin. They let me check in this morning AND I have free wireless. Hurrah! And for lunch I hade a Big Salad in the lobby. It was delicious.

Overall, the Hadid building was disappointing. I know it's a museum and as such its main function is to display art. But seriously, the most exciting thing about the building is the facade. And the stairs. The display spaces are cool, but nothing astounding.
So my question is, can public space be feminist? I don't mean can the space or building challenge dominant ideas about public space, because I know they can. But what makes a space, or a building, feminist? Many of Hadid's buildings are curvy, but does this make them femininist? Many architects are using more organic shapes/lines in their buildings. I'd hate to think that curves are strictly feminine. I got a book that I read some of on the plane. It was interesting, in that many of the essays investigate the public/private, masculine/feminine split. And one (which I have not read yet) attempts to get outside that binary.
But in today's political culture are we bound by it, because so much public architecture is masculine and supports (literally and metaphorically) patriarchial institutions? One need only look at the downtown library to see curves and open space. Designed by a man.
I'm left only with questions.
My goal for the afternoon: write, find a shopping center, and see a movie. In that order? Maybe. I have found a place (across the street!) for dinner. JeanRo. Mussells marinare and pomme frite, here I come!!
I will pause now so that you may reflect.

School Dread

I'm back from the jungles of Idaho where we braved storms and too many margaritas to enjoy family time and reminiscing with high school buddies, former teachers, parents' colleagues, and family friends and neighbors.
Highlights:

1. Sitting in hot pool that belonged to hotel nestled in evergreens, as it got dark.
2. Spending lots of time with parents and siblings.
3. Hiking with siblings in Lava Hot Springs.
4. Making the incredibly delicious pomegranate mojitos (not as sweet as you'd fear!).
5. Walking Gus in Lava and meeting the locals.
6. Talking to hip teenage niece about friends from Austin, myspace and emo-screamo.
7. Shopping with sister for shorts and buying two shirts and new dress instead.
8. Buying shorts at Ace Hardware.
9. Swimming laps at Ross Park Pool with my new polarized goggles.
10. Eating at Pocatello taco truck two times.
11. Running into high school friend and jewelry making wife at Pocatello farmer's market.
12. Hiking with grad school friend and dog on Boundary Trail.
13. Riding my bike in Island Park and Inkom.
14. Meeting sister's friend from State College. Mostly when he said things like "Yep, she's your sister" and "Don't you think 'Mike's Hard Berry' sounds dirty?"
15. Talking to cool sociologist who studies vampire culture and prison gambling.
16. Finally reading A Fan's Notes. What took me so long?
17. Eating lots of eggs and bacon for breakfast.
18. Eating lots.
19. Drinking lots.
20. Finally coming home and getting back to running. And sleeping in my own bed.

But, because I'm crazy!, I leave for Cincinnati on Wednesday to do research for what heretofore shall be referred to as the DFL. I'll spend two days at the Arts Center, also eating at whatever cool restaurants I can find, maybe having a martini, if I feel brave.
I hope I see many of you soon. Wish me luck.

Notes from Idaho

First, I think that could be a Hemingway title. Okay. Here's some things I've been thinking of.

Things not to talk about at wedding of high school friend:

1. God: How did this happen? To my credit, I did not bring it up. A friend from high school's husband began talking about how he wanted to take his kids to church. For some reason, I couldn't quite believe it. Maybe because he never struck me as the type. And, maybe it's just me, but I think when your oldest is 15, it may be too late to try to force them to go to church.
2. Pedagogy: I'm not sure how this came up, but I managed to throw it in. My friend, who also has a PhD, said something like "don't get all fancy on us" affecting an Idaho-hick mentality that he surely does not own. Oh sure, everyone else can talk about something where I'm excluded (fishing? world cup soccer? sword fighting?) but when I say a long word I'm accused of being elitist. The world isn't fair.
3. Friend's high school romance life: Who knew that relationships one had twenty years ago (and I use the term "relationship" loosely) should not be mentioned because husband's can get jealous? (I do have to mention, however, that friend threw herself down on the grass to imitate herself some twenty-plus years ago during an REO Speedwagon concert, bawling on the floor because of some guy who, even when mentioned by name, I couldn't remember). This was not the friend who was getting married, but a different friend.
4. Various drunken outings in Salt Lake City: I was telling friends about how bad I was two years ago, so bad that MB still mentions it as my "bad night." It was hilarious, only because they seemed so horrified about my behavior, behavior that, I might add, I no longer feel bad about. (which should be its own post, so rarely does it occur)

In general, my friend's wedding was lovely. Her parents were excellent hosts, the food was great, and I love me a backyard wedding. Another friend said, after the wedding, "well, that was a cute little wedding" and then proceeded to tell me how her own marriage was flailing (this was the friend whose husband gets jealous about high school boyfriends). I, however, felt that the wedding was perfect. I decided I love it when older people get married (and by older I mean my age or older). I love it because the couple is not naive, not starry eyed and are generally so grateful to have found each other. With this in mind, I have to say that my own favorite married couple are HighTouch and The Historian. I have never heard either say even something simply "nice" about the other. They always gush about how wonderful/amazing/superb/incredible the other is. I aspire to be like them. I, too often, say negative things about MB who, I might add, doesn't really even miss me. (sniff, sniff)

So for anything negative I've ever said about MB, I take it back. He's a prince of man, a genius, obviously, and if he can put up with me (the worst kind, high maintenance but I think I'm low maintenance), then he deserves an award. Or at least a week or so of pure batch.

I'm Home, Briefly, Before Returning to Idaho

First things first: PIE!I ate this delicious little rhubarb-berry concoction at the Almo Outpost in Almo, Idaho. First we had burgers, which were good, and then I ate this. It was yummy.
This is Son wearing goggles on the shores of Lake Alturas. He did get in the water, for the record, but he did not need the goggles.
My favorite recent pic of Son. Note the ice blue eyes. This was after he got in the water. The only reason he got in the water was that MB was out there holding a bag of M-n-M's. They were the disgusting white chocolate variety which no one else wanted, but MB was able to lure Son in to the water with the promise of the whole bag for himself, which he quickly consumed. MB accidentally bought them thinking they were the Almond kind. He still hasn't learned to read a label, but maybe someday he will.

We had a great time in Idaho, visiting with friends. My friend, who is married to the climbing ranger at City of Rocks, is a friend from junior high. She got out her yearbooks and reminded me of a prank we pulled on two (nerdy) girls who lockered next to us. We wrote them love notes from a supposed boy who liked them. (mean!) I had blocked this out of course. I remember all wrongs done to me, but have suppressed all the cruel things I did. I guess it's how we move on. But I also read what I had written in her yearbook, something like "we'll be friends long after all this is over" or something, which turns out to be true. Of all my childhood friends, I think she is one I have the most in common with now. She and hubby bought some land in Almo and they are going to build a straw bale house, which I've always wanted to do. I hope she calls me so I can come out and help!

Hailey was awesome. None of the icky grossness of Ketchum and Sun Valley, with all of the beautiful scenery and amazing food. We ate our weight in grilled meat (hamburgers from a ranch that Mark recently acquired as part of his job at the Nature Conservancy. Grass fed!), lamb chops (from local ranch, Lava Lake), and grilled veggies (heirloom potatoes that were sublime!). We also ate a ton of salsa from a local place, and went out for Thai food. Oh, and we drank real beer. I bought a pie at the farmer's market, which was great, but sorry, no photos. It was a mixed berry pie. We also ate wraps from a Ketchum place, Wrap City, which renewed my interest in the wrap as a food category.
The highlight was Lake Alturas, which we will definitely return to in the near future, hopefully to stay for a few days and camp and hang out at the lake to work on our tans and read fiction that's trashy, but only so trashy. It's not the ocean, after all.

Friday ErinAlice flies in with family in tow to begin the two week family festivities. We will go to Inkom, then to Island Park with side trips to Yellowstone. Then back to Inkom, where we will be joined by Sister 2, then Sister 1. We have a night of margaritas, guacamole and whatever else planned. Then to Lava for a few days before the big birthday bash for Sister 2. Then a big retirement party for Dad. Then we return to life as we know it, which is basically a long, screeching downhill slide into SCHOOL. (but I'm going to block that out for now)

I-da-Ho

We're off for some slightly cooler weather in Idaho. We'll be visiting a friend who lives at City of Rocks, then off to the Hailey/SunValley/Ketchum area for a few days to see some grad school friends. We hope to do a lot of hiking, and maybe some activities involving water. I also hope to have a good, old fashioned breakfast involving biscuits, and maybe eat some pie. You know how I love pie.
We'll check in next week. Stay cool!

Melancholiday

I love most holidays, I do, especially ones that primarily focus on food. This is why, in some ways, I prefer Thanksgiving to Christmas. Except for the fact that I usually see my family at Christmas and only sometimes see my Dad at Thanksgiving, but not always. But this year, I didn't see my family for any of the winter holidays. I did see my Mom and ErinAlice at Spring Break. And we went to Idaho to see my Dad for Memorial Day.
In spite of all that, I find myself somewhat melancholy this 4th. I'm not a big lover of the fourth, and I don't love the fireworks (especially this year, as I anticipate a Gus freak out), but I find myself a little sad. Maybe it's because last year we got to spend it with Otterbutt and ThirtyOne Flavors and children. (Son was talking about all the fireworks he did last year with "Camme"). Maybe it's because we weren't invited to any barbecues. Maybe it's because I didn't get it together enough to make either potato salad OR any kind of pie.
But really I think it's because I think of the fourth as a holiday that most people spend with their families. And we spent most of it inside trying to stay cool. I did watch some Wimbledon (a family tradition), and we did make some hamburgers with corn and potatoes (everything cooked on the grill, of course).
Maybe it's because I feel somewhat isolated and like a shut-in. I'm not trying to feel sorry for myself, but we don't really have a "group" of friends that we hang out with all the time and would, naturally, spend the Fourth with. We do have friends, but they are all from different groups (cliques?), not really forming a coherent whole. We don't really have people over (except sometimes we do). We don't really go out for drinks with certain people or go to bars (much) or etc, etc, etc.
I guess our social isolation is partly an effect of being a parent (babysitter? What babysitter? Ours is in France). And it's partly an effect of being writers who are trying to write this summer. We haven't been on the phone inviting people over. But partly, I think, it's an effect of the environment where we live. Lots of people here have lived here for a long time and have lots of friends that they have had forever. OR they spend holidays with their families.
I felt this way when I lived in Seattle too. But there, perhaps because I was single and very social, I made friends with other people who had recently moved to Seattle. Once, at a party, I made friends with a whole group of people from Ohio because they were in the kitchen talking and I thought they said "Idaho." I sat on the lap of one of these people, a man named Wheat (not kidding!), in a van on the way home. But that's a story for another post.
I also made friends with a woman who was a customer of mine at Starbucks because she went to College of Idaho. And she was good friends with the only person I knew who went there.
Maybe I just need to start an "I'm from Idaho or a state that sounds like Idaho" club. Or a "we used to have friends but then we had a kid" club. Or "My family's not here, want to have a barbecue?" club. Or "I like to drink pre-made margaritas" club.
I could go on like this for hours.

It's All About Food

It's all about food, and it's not just about the grill, though it is about that too.
Today, because it was supposed to be 100, I took Son to see a movie, "Ratatouille." We recently saw "Happy Feet" which I liked, but I have to say I was a little annoyed about the constant pop culture references, disco/Prince songs sung by penguins. It was cute, but maybe a little too cute.
But I loved "Ratatouille." It may be my favorite kid movie. It had all the trappings of cute kid movies, with extra jokes for the parents, but it seemed just a little smarter,and just a little, I don't know, better. Of course it had a bad guy, and a father, and a happy ending. But it was actually good.
And as far as the grill is concerned. I'll let pictures speak a thousand words.

MB: The Grill Master

The First Grilled Meal: Tuna!
Tonight's Meal: Chicken Kabobs and grilled corn

As MB said, the grill opens up a whole new food group that we used to be excluded from: grilled foods. As in, grilled corn, kabobs, grilled mushrooms which are the best things ever, and grilled vegetables, also the best things ever.

What I'm Doing Or Gus's Epic Journey

Just to get it out of the way: I'm not writing. The word whore has not been whoring. She has been shoe shopping and music swapping (thanks High Touch!), and she has been making rhubarb crisp, and she has been running with the dog.
To wit: This morning I made plans to trail run with a friend to Dog Lake. How can you go to Dog Lake and not take the dog? You can't. So I loaded up the dog in the small car and off we went.
Once on the trail, we encountered some other trail runners. We ended up running in front of and behind them most of the way to Dog Lake. Just before Dog Lake I called Gus back to me, gave him a treat and held his collar so he wouldn't get too far away. When we got to Dog Lake, he jumped in like a good dog and ran around a bit. Then the runners passed by the lake and I saw him chase after them. I walked in that general direction and after a few minutes I began to call him. No luck.
I ended up going about another mile in the direction of the runners calling Gus and whistling. I encountered some hikers who had come from Big Cottonwood and they had seen Gus "leading the pack" of runners. Eventually I realized I couldn't catch up with the runners and turned around. My friend and I agreed to go back down to the parking lot and wait for the runners. She thought maybe they were running a loop which would be 10-12 miles.
We waited in the parking lot for about ten minutes when a mountain biker came dashing down the trail. She rode directly up to us and asked "Did you lose a dog?" She had taken the dog from a group of hikers who had taken him from the runners who, it turns out, were not doing a loop but were running over to the next canyon, probably at least a 15 mile run. Her friend had Gus on a leash and was riding him down to the next parking lot. After I got in the car, I let myself cry a little, but just a little.
We met up with Gus at the parking lot. We had probably been separated for about 2 hours. He was glad to see us and seemed to just want to get into the car, though I made him drink some water first.
He's been sacked out on the dog bed since we got home. I think he'll be tired for at least two days.
So today my plan is to eat chips, drink water and iced tea, maybe some wine later, grill some salmon and not leave the house. It's too damn hot out! And I'm still a bit shaky from the adrenaline of running around looking for Gus and not finding him.
But then I did find him, so it's a happy ending. Thanks to lots of nice people who like dogs. The biking woman even said if she hadn't found us, she would have taken him. So the world is full of good people who love dogs.
Let's hear it for nice people who just want to reunite dogs and their owners.
In other news: I made the Lone Star iced tea and it's delicious.

If it swims, grill it!

When I worked at a summer camp the year after I finished college, I became good friends with the lifeguard. She and I would take nightly trips into the closest grocery store for ice cream and double dipped chocolate peanuts.
Once, we wandered back to the seafood department where we found and stole a sign that proclaimed, "If It Swims, Grill It!" She kept this sign inside the pool shed. I like to think it was a warning to wayward campers.
It seems appropriate this week, as MB and I have finally become the proud owners of our first grill. It was no easy process, acquiring this grill. We had to go to no less than three stores. We waited at the second for them to tell us that they didn't actually have the grill we wanted in stock. Off to store three, where we obtained the grill in no time flat.
Then the real fun began. I should have taken pictures of what I like to call "Assembly for Humanities Majors." Every instance of confusion was seized upon by MB as both an example for him to share with his classes AND as the epitome of bad technical writing. For us, what the box proclaimed was a grill that "assembles in minutes!" became a one hour plus extravaganza of trying to figure out the difference between a 20 1/4 X something screw and some other screw that looked exactly like it only was thicker and shorter. Whatever. Luckily we had plenty of beer and hard lemonade on hand to assist us.
To christen our grill, we had tuna.
Tonight we had friends who moved away (to Nebraska) and who are back for a short visit over. I took the opportunity to make something new. Lamb burgers with apricot salsa using a recipe from Bon Appetit. I've never made anything from that magazine before, because it usually looks too complicated or has tons of cream or cheese. But I highly recommend this. I made the salsa using apricots from our beloved Farmer's Market. I ate one this morning. It was delicious. The salsa also had red onion, roasted red peppers, pistachios and mint. It was a hit!
Our friends brought over their son who is Son's age. They also have twins who are about 17 months. They are incredibly adorable and surprisingly low maintainence. They just kind of hung out and walked around. Even Gus was good. Big fun all around.
I might post pictures of MB manning the grill eventually. But we expect to eat a good portion of our meals outdoor and straight from the grill.
*As a side note, while looking for a grill we found a stylish outdoor bar complete with bar stools and umbrella. That's going on the wish list.

It's Too Damn Hot Update

First, there have been questions about what, exactly, happened to Gus. We took him to a dog park and he got bit by a dog. It was partly our fault, as we let him play rough, etc. But the other dog got him good: punctured his ear. He seems to be okay, though we are constantly worried that it is infected. We did take him back to the dog park and he played with a nice dog, Baxter.
Currently he is sleeping on his doggy bed in front of the air con.
Oh yes, have I mentioned that it's too damn hot? I know, it's not yet July. Summer just offically started. How can I already be complaining? It's because complaining is an art form I have perfected.
Last night I had to restort to fruity drinks. But I was too hot to make my own delicious fruity drinks (which also might have required a drive to the liquor store in the too hot car), so I bought the bottled kind of fruity drinks that one can purchase in grocery stores here. Yes. A new low. But not quite as low, I might point out, as the time last summer that I purchased Bartles and James margaritas. Did they taste like margaritas? No they did not. Were they fruity? Yes they were.
Last night was spent on the couch with said fruity drinks watching "The Office" marathon which was just a sad excuse to promote "Evan Almighty" (which I will go see, btw). And then I had to watch "Studio 60" imploding on itself. I love this show. I adore it. But even I am beginning to hate it. Gone is the snappy, witty dialogue. Gone the romantic comedy element that we love so well. Gone the brief views of the writers' room with the deadpan headwriter and the witty British Lucy. It's devolved into melodrama. But even so. I love to see Matthew Perry and Bradley Whitford and that Harriet. I will cherish the few, final, terrible episodes. I will. Because it's all I have left.
Except for "Entourage." Ari Gold has to be the best character. Ever. I can't even dislike him, because I love him so much. He has the best lines. His wife has some good lines too. As do his assistants. We're on season 2, so don't ruin it for me, those of you who are in the know.
Writing? What writing?

Word Whore Update

Well. Son is in Bug Camp this week, so I'm back to the Word Whoring. I passed the 40,000 word mark (I'm at 41,195) But that's not quite halfway to the 90,000 word goal that I may have to revise, just for my sanity.
But I want some kind of draft by the end of summer. I realize that I will have to do revising, in that I have some ideas about earlier chapters, etc. But it will be nice to finish a draft of something!!
I am here at the downtown library where they are setting up for the summer festival already. It's a bit crazy outside, with the tents and whatnot. MB and I saw a dog swimming in the fountain.
Dog update: Gus is okay. His bite seems to be healing and he hasn't been complaining, so I assume that means he is alright. We're keeping him away from the dog park for the time being. He almost yanked my arm off last night. Geez!

5K Update

Well, my 5K was okay. It was hotter than I expected at 8:25 when I began the uphill finish. (Uphill finish? Whose idea was that?) On the plus side I passed some people who looked younger than me. On the minus side, many, many, many Masters runners beat me by 10 minutes. And a 79-year-old woman finished right behind me.
Another plus was the pancake breakfast, which MB, Son and Son's Friend also got to indulge in. It was very good. I was also chatted up by a man in the 50-59 age division at the starting line. This made me feel better (wouldn't I make a great second trophy wife?) and worse (so this is my fate, I'm now only attractive to men over 50? And my husband).
We had Son's Friend for a sleepover last night. They went to bed at 10:30 and got up at 5:45. Yes, that's right, 5:45. I had to get up at 6:30 anyway for the race, but still. There will be enforced napping today.
Alright. So here are my stats.
I finished in 28:08, making my pace approximately 9 minutes/mile. Or, as I like to think of it, only slightly faster than an octogenarian. My goal was an 8:30 mile, but I didn't reach that. Maybe next time. I think my first mile was under that, but, as they say, I started too fast.
There was an award ceremony after. I liked watching the young girls get their medals. They were cute. I think I liked to run when I was younger, and then I had my love of running killed by a terrible track coach in junior high, Mr. Bodily. I'm not joking.
I'm getting the love back.
But I still think the running should get easier, shouldn't it?
Today I'm shopping for a swimming suit. I will triumph. I will!!

Nothing + Nothing = Nothing

Here's an update on what I've been doing: nothing. Well not strictly nothing, but nothing productive. Son was supposed to be in a language camp this week, but there were not enough people signed up, so it was canceled. Which means that we've been holed up, plus MB's computer troubles, so you can probably imagine for yourselves the domestic drama that we've been embroiled in.
What have I been obsessing over this week? Thanks for asking. My current obsessions are

1. Entourage
2. The Sopranos
3. The Office, and all that entails: John Krasinski, Evan Almighty, Toby, etc.
4. Studio 60: Why does it have to end, sob, sob, etc.
5. New Music: I need some, I'm getting bored, etc.
6. I'm not writing
7. Maybe writing doesn't matter, after all, when I'm dead, I'll be dead, not looking down from above saying "Look how much everyone enjoys my writing!"
8. Swimming
9. Running (I'm doing a 5K on Saturday)
10. Reading shallow things
11. Disliking successful writers whom I won't name, but who might have some talent, but also get things published in magazines, like The New Yorker, for example, not because they are good, but because of who they are.

So now you're up to date. I hate everyone who's not blogging, by the way. Please blog and save me from my shallow reading and self-loathing.

ErinAlice + HighTouch = Dr. Write

Borrowing from the inventive genius of ErinAlice and HighTouchMegaStore, I have found inspiration for a new post: A combination of Conversations with Son, and Some of Us.

Son: Bacon comes from pigs.
Son's Friend: Animals are made from meat. Like cows are meat. And we are meat.
Son: No. We're made of water. You're mostly water.
SF: And meat.
Son: Mom, are we meat?
SF: We are meat.

Recent accomplishments from the domestic sphere of Dr. Write and Middlebrow:

• Some of us have finished the final chapter of our dissertation
• Some of us have learned how to swim (back float and arm part of crawl)
• Some of us are still reading Cloudsplitter (9 months and counting)
• Some of us stayed up late every night watching at least 3 episodes (per evening) of "The Office" Season 2
• Some of us spent all morning trying to figure out how we could watch Season 3
• Some of us can't sleep at night because we are secretly worrying that Pam and Jim will/will not get together (if they get together, the show will fall apart/be cancelled)
• Some of us have started and abandoned several novels we were reading this week
• Some of us have lost confidence in our ability to finish any writing project longer than 25 pages
• Some of us need a schedule to get any work done
• Some of us run because it makes us feel like we have accomplished something, anything, please god, I just want the feeling of having finished something
• Some of us need some friends to distract us (hint, hint)
  

My Five Seconds

Here's my five seconds of local fame: a book review column in City Weekly. Just two things to note: MB helped me with the clever "best read" part. And since writing it (two weeks ago) I have finished Devotion by Howard Norman. Even though he is one of my favorite writers, I did choose not to stalk him at AWP (I saw him at the Starbucks in Atlanta). But having finished the book, I can no longer recommend it. It was thin, like an over-stretched short story. The sad thing is, the characters and set up were good. But he didn't deliver. No delivery! So, skip that one. I stand behind the rest, however.

Also please note Scorpion's Tail has an article on running in the same publication. We're co-published. It's a first!

New Strip

New Story

As I was writing on the novel, which often feels like slogging through mud, I received inspiration for a new story, which I began working on.
So, I wrote very little today on The Novel, but I wrote 10 pages (4,150 words) on the new story, "Domestic Drama."
I will post a bit, the inspiration for the story, here. I feel like the inspiration was just in time, as I was beginning to feel, because of the slogging, that I am not much of a writer. But the new story was fun. Which leads me to question why the novel isn't. But I've always loved brevity, so there's that. And doing something new always has its appeal too, doesn't it?
I hope to get back to the novel later tonight, or tomorrow. And to finish this story for my writing group at the end of the month.
So here's the first paragraph, which came to me in a burst of inspiration. Thank you, to wherever it came from.

He found me in the bedroom. I had the butcher knife and I was holding it in my right hand and with my left I was looking through a pile of clean laundry I had left on the bed. I was looking for a red handkerchief which I had given him for his last birthday and which would make a good tool for wiping up blood, but that was not why I was looking for it. I was looking for it because it had just sprung to my mind as I was deboning the chops for dinner. I hadn’t seen it in months and I thought that maybe it was missing or, I thought, maybe it was in the pile of clean clothes on the bed. That was the only place it could be.

Back at It

Last week was a wash, all the way around. Monday was a holiday, Wednesday was my last day of co-oping at Son's school, and Thursday was Son's Graduation extravaganza, complete with caps and gowns, The Magic Treehouse plays (in which Son played a guard, a juggler, and, his favorite, a monkey), food madness, and awards (Son got the Future Author award, proving conclusively that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree).
So I wrote a little on Tuesday and Wednesday, but nothing on Thursday or Friday. This weekend was full of madness (doing what? who knows! oh, we did plant two plants and I took Son swimming and I did run for two hours on Sunday).
But now I'm back at it. Never fear. I got up "early" (by my standards), and drank coffee and wrote a bit. I might try to split my writing days between production on the novel and revision of the collection. I'm trying to get it ready to send out in the fall.
But I also want to take Son for a hike, possibly with Dog, and I should be on my summer running schedule, but I'm tired. Oh so tired.
And I'm trying to plan a short vacation for July. Plus Middlebrow had several illness/injuries last week and I had to nurse him back to health (with Excedrin and fudgesicles). And, as I'm sure he'll point out, buying him generic Pepto-Bismol and then going out with the girls.

Word Count total: 27, 958

Son's Comic

My Turn with the Comic

The Whore Returns to Whoring

I'm back. For photos of the Long, Lazy (and Inebriated) Weekend, see Middlebrow's latest post. Of course, I had to readjust to home life (drink green tea and check my email) before I could begin writing this morning.
But still, I managed to write about 2,000 words. My mind is also consumed with silly tasks to be done. Plus Son's last day of school is Thursday, and there is the portfolio to finish and photographs to be picked up.
And a trip to Costco, for healthy food, now that Middlebrow and I are (once again) on the eat heathy spend less money trip. (We seem to take this trip periodically, and then return to our insane eating and spending ways.)
Middlebrow tried to convince me over the weekend that we should buy a Honda Element. I think this was brought on by trying to pack all of us and our stuff plus the dog into the little Saturn. But on a hike, I managed to talk him into buying a used vehicle for camping, meaning no car payment and no worrying about mileage, since we will only use it for trips. I think it could work.

Word Whore

As I was telling someone last night, I'm just a word whore. I don't care if it's good, I'm just getting it down. I am taking to heart Anne Lamott's advice about Shitty First Drafts. It's shitty alright!
Yesterday started rough. I wrote 900 or so words and then Middlebrow (aka The Devil) said we should go out for lunch. We went to Lone Star (best fish tacos ever!!) and then to Target (we bought a lamp) and then to DSW (I got nothing; MB got thongs). Needless to say I despaired of ever meeting my word count.
But, on Mondays, Son goes over to a friend's house after school and gets home around 5. Somehow, in spite of leaping up every five minutes to quiet the dog, I managed to write 3,000 words.
Today was much the same. I ran, then stretched, then found various things to eat in the kitchen, etc. I wrote about 1,000 words, then ate some soup.
But, again, as the time for Son to return home neared, I managed to exceed my word count. I think I need the pressure of limited time.

Stats
Today's word count: 3,585
Summer word count: 20,736

(in other news, I think Jordin will win American Idol. I'll be watching!)

Camping Trip update: Not bad. I almost had a nervous breakdown trying to pack, but once there it was okay. I was happy to see someone else brought box wine, there were smores for everyone, and lots of good food. It was fun to socialize with the parents in a relaxing environment, even if there were four trains a night to wake us up. Oh well, it couldn't be absolutely perfect, could it?

Numbers

I know my blog is mind-numbingly boring. But it keeps me honest. Thanks for indulging me.
Tuesday's numbers: 1,772
I also wrote 274 words last night. Just a minute of inspiration.
I'm including last night's in today's total of: 2,046
bringing my grand total to: 10,648

Scorpion's Tail and I are going to exchange manuscripts in August. I want to have at least 60,000 words by then. I'm going to include the first chapter, which is a story I wrote last summer, and the chapters I've already started that I'm going to finish this summer. So I should have the 60,000 words by the end of June. I hope.
Thanks for keeping me honest.

Writing Stats

First I want to thank you all for your encouragement. I feel like I have made some sort of contract with all of you, so I want to thank you (in advance) for nagging me if I seem to flag in the production department.
So here's my update:
I didn't write on Friday because it was graduation. I thought I would catch up on Saturday, but we took Gus for a walk in the canyon and then went to a retirement BBQ. Sunday was Mothers' Day of course, so I didn't write because of many things.
But today I finished my chapter for last week. Today I wrote 598 words to finish the "Linda" chapter. Final stats on Linda: 7,653 words, 25 pages!
Then I wrote 949 words on the "Patrick" chapter. I had started this chapter before, so I already had 6-ish pages. I got onto page 10 today.
So for today: 1,547 words.
Now I have to go help out at the Bookfair at Son's school.
(I also ran for 38 minutes and 45 seconds this morning.)
I think if I started writing earlier (i.e. before 11 a.m.) I might get more done. So I'll work on that. I'm thinking of using the word count for NaNoWriMo, but counting only weekdays as writing days. I may start that tomorrow. I'll let you know.
I have to up my word count every day this week, because this weekend I am taking Son and Friend on the class camping trip. Should be fun and/or insane. Or both.
Thanks again, readers. I count on you for encouragement and pressure.

Day Four

Word count: 1,871
Must now go swim. Need exercise. Feel crazy.
I think everything I am writing/have written this week is pure crap. But I'm doing it. I hope that as I go along, the writing gets better.
At least it's not pure gibberish. I think.

Day Three: Redemption!

You have to love a summer writing plan that delivers damnation, but swiftly followed by redemption. And at such a low price!
I managed to redeem myself by escaping to the neighborhood public library and putting in my requiste words, before dashing home to pick up Son and Friend, then pick up Friend 2 and drive them all to school and put in my 3 hours of co-oping.
Then I dashed home, gave son a snack, drove him to soccer practice, watched as he practiced, dashed home, showered and attended the "Evening of Honor." It wasn't as bad as it sounds. There was an open bar. Unheard of! I attended the EOH because I'm giving a faculty lecture next year. I got to stand up for about five seconds while everyone applauded and smiled at me. I smiled back. It seemed okay.

(As a brief aside: I mentioned in my list of addictions "saying I will do things that I'm not sure I can actually do." Since we have passed the 27th, my deadline, I will tell you now that I did actually do it. And "it" was write a magazine article about an urban horseshoer. It was quite short, 1,500 words, but it was fun. I got to go talk to a horseshoer, and watch him shoe, and talk to some young girls. Quite entertaining. And I actually met the deadline and wrote the article. So I'm happy about that. And, barring any unforeseen circumstances, it will be published in a glossy magazine sold in airports. So. I'll let you know when that will happen. The most money I've made on one piece of writing. Or will make.)

Weekly word count: 4,508
today's word count: 1,916

Day Two: The Devil and Dr. Write

Day Two was less of a success. We took Son and Friend to get comic books. We stopped for coffee. Then we did go to the lovely library to "work" (word count: 927). We went out to lunch. We browsed at the bookstore (and ran into Signifying Nothing).
The Devil (aka Middlebrow) decided to buy wine. I will admit that I was the one who insisted on watching "American Idol." (It was Barry Gibb night. Come on!). But then the whole evening was a downhill slide into debauchery and media stimulation.
On the up side, we finished season five of "The Sopranos," so we are out from under that addiction, if only temporarily.
We also watched "Children of Men," which was intriguing and disappointing at the same time. And depressing. If that's the future, then we are going to start planning for our Quietus packs right now. Plus what film so under uses Julianne Moore? I mean really.
But now it's day three. Time to play catch up.

Let the Summer Writing Begin

Today was offically the first day of Summer Writing, wherein Dr. Write gets the mornings (until noon, I suppose) and Middlebrow the afternoons (when do they end? Unknown). The bonus is that Son is still in school until the end of the month. So Monday through Thursday we both get afternoons.
I have signed Son up for an ungodly amount of camps: language camp, swimming lessons, bug camp and weather camp. And that's just June!
I am hoping that I can finish a draft of my second novel. (the first, of course, remains fragmentary and incomplete)
In July we will travel to Washington state for some vacation. But we have vowed not to let some ideal of a "balanced life" interfere with writing. Meaning: no good intentions in regards to camping, gardening, socializing. Maybe some hiking. That's as far as we'll go.
So, my goal is a chapter (25 pages) a week. That means five pages a day, with weekends to catch up if I fall behind. I hope I can keep it up!!
Today: word count 1,665. So far, so good.

Cupcake Convergence

In a weird convergence of space, time, and hunger, cupcakes have over taken a larger than expected portion of my brain.
See, when I was on the dreaded elimination diet, I went to see my mom for Spring Break. While there, we had a dinner with her friend, who brought over a crazy assortment of cupcakes I couldn't eat. There were Oreo cupcakes, German Chocolate cupcakes, Ding-Dong cupcakes, cherry filled cupcakes, carrot cupcakes, etc. Anyway, the whole experience left me with an insatiable desire for cupcakes.
Yesterday, when Assertively Unhip was over we began to discuss cupcakes, and she informed of where in town I could get the best cupcake ever.
Today, I went there with Son. We got one of each kind they had, to wit:

1. New York: Valrhona Chocolate (cupcake and icing)
2. Madagascar: Vanilla cupcake with vanilla cream cheese icing, dipped in white chocolate sprinkles
3. Paris: Chocolate cupcake with raspberry butter cream frosting
4. Vienna: Chocolate cupcake with apricot butter cream frosting

Also, I had the best decaf americano I've had in years. Years! I ate the Madagascar (a mini) while I was waiting for my coffee. Middlebrow had a New York when I returned home and he confirmed AU's assessment of "best cupcake." I'm saving my New York for tomorrow. We have to pace ourselves people.

To confirm the cupcake convergence, two pieces of evidence: this blog post by Suzi Q. And I remembered the video "Lazy Sunday" which shows the Magnolia Bakery, also shown in Suzi's photo. So I'm not the only one who is cupcake crazy!!

Memo from Course Assessment

As some of you know, I (and some of you!) was lucky enough to participate in a course assessment in the past few days. Yes, it stretched out longer than expected with some of us bringing papers home to finish up. (But not until we'd self-medicated with vodka, watched some TV, slept a little, etc).
Here are some highlights from student prose that remind me of why teaching is often an (unintentionally) funny business.

• "Throughout time, students have always brought guns to school"
• "As I was in a situation where a drunken man holding a butterfly knife began to be irritated and angry"
• "all of which makes a paper sound like a symphony"
• "somewhat glib goes by many different names"
• "I would like to end here so that you may reflect"

I also learned that I should keep my big mouth shut and just nod and agree (I've learned this several times, but it hasn't taken yet!).

Also: I don't like reading student papers. Also: the smell of magic marker lingers on the papers and gives me a huge f*ing headache. I would like to convey more lessons I gleaned from this experience, but that may take some more vodka.

I will end here, so that you may reflect.

Not Funny

Am I the only person on the planet who didn't find Borat funny?
We started watching it last night. I didn't find anything about the opening village scene funny. The only funny thing in the first fifteen minutes was the chicken getting out of his suitcase on the subway. And the fact that most Americans threatened him with violence. That seemed like an insight into Ameircan culture.
But the rest of it was just stupid. "Let's make fun of retarded people! And Jews! And women!" Haven't heard that since, when, seventh grade?
I appreciate complex humor. Even simplistic humor done well. But this wasn't any of that.
So we turned it off (and returned it, promptly, to Netflix), and watched some TV. It's depressing. The success of "Borat" and the general stupidity of the evening news does not give me hope for the future of the American people.

We're Almost There....Where?

We can now see the light at the end of the tunnel. Is it an on-coming train? The happy light of the ever after?
It might, possibly, be the sun. Or maybe a funnel cloud of love and illumination. Or maybe it might just be the sneaking suspicion that all of humanity is not devoid of intelligent thought and compound-complex sentence structures. Maybe it's something like optimism.
Maybe it's an hallucinatory image of ourselves sitting in the cozy breakfast nook writing something that came out of our very own heads. Something we made up. Something strange and familiar. Something that makes us smile with its unpredictability. Something that scares us with its fierce insistence to be written.
Sigh.
Maybe it's just an idea. That would be novel.

Addictions

I'm addicted to the following things, in no particular order:

• Potato chips (specifically: salt & vinegar, thai spice)
• Chips and Salsa
• Avocados
• Thai Food
• American Idol (we will now celebrate the departure of Sanjaya. Yeah!!)
• Chocolate (dark)
• Red Wine
• Crossword puzzles/sudoku (alternately)
• Listening to music late at night on my iPod when I should be sleeping
• Procrastination
• Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookies (in season)
• Rice
• Smoothies
• TV Shows that are in danger of being cancelled or that networks just stop showing (Love Monkey, Studio 60, Men in Trees)
• All of your blogs (you know who you are!!)
• Gossip (my new fave: Jake & Reese!)
• Imagining myself in really sexy outfits when I'm wearing khakis and tennis shoes (my uniform)
• Counter-transference
• Talking about stuff I really don't know about (Judith Butler?)
• Talking about all the stuff I'm working on when I'm really not doing anything
• Rewarding myself when I feel bad by eating bad stuff (see Potato Chips)
• End of the semester pep talks from self and MB ("It's all good! It's almost over!! Good job!!")
• Imagining dancing while listening to Shakira
• Protein
• Cookies
• Hugs from Son
• Sunshine
• Days with no school
• Saying I will do things that I'm not sure I can actually do (more on this after the 27th)
• Lists

Danger

In light of the shootings at Virginia Tech, I feel it is appropriate to reopen the question of guns in the classroom, something we've been discussing in our fair state for, oh, ever. But not only that. Not only guns on campus, because, as gun rights advocates state, even if we have rules, people will break them. But guns in general.
When I was on a ferry once from England to Ireland a nice man asked me "Why do Americans love guns so much?" What could I say? I'm an American. I don't love guns. He referred to a deadly school shooting in Scotland and said that less than a month afterwards it was more difficult to get a gun in Scotland. "Why doesn't America do that?" he asked. Why indeed.
But I've gotten off track. I meant to say that, as a teacher, I don't want to be afraid that a student who got a bad grade will hunt me down. I don't want to be afraid that a student will come in and threaten me with a gun. I don't want to be afraid that the classroom will not be a place for the free and open exchange of sometimes unpopular ideas because students are afraid that a peer might not agree and bring a gun.
As a parent, I'm afraid that my son will encounter a bully with a gun, or anyone with a gun, at his school. Probably not at the school he attends now, but he can't go there forever.
Even more, as an American, I'm sick of having to turn the channel when an ad for a violent TV show or movie comes on when I'm watching TV at 7 pm with my son. I'm sick of our culture that thinks killing and violence is entertaining. I'm sick of watching PG-13 movies that treat violence as an everyday occurrence that we should not react to with outrage and horror.
Show a nipple and you get an X rating. Show hundreds of people being murdered by machine gun fire, PG-13. (I don't know this for a fact, but based on my own movie viewing, this seems to be true).
What I'm really sick of is turning on the radio and hearing that someone, any one, the number does not matter, has been killed by another lunatic with a gun. I'm tired of gun rhetoric. I don't feel like I need a gun, and I sure as hell don't think anyone should be able to buy one at their local big box retailer.
I'm sick of lines like "guns don't kill people, people kill people." Sorry. A person without a gun is just an angry person. An angry person with a gun can kill someone. I can deal with an angry student. I do it more often than I'd like. An angry student with a gun is, unfortunately, sometimes a murderer.
My thoughts are with the survivors in Virginia. My thoughts can't do a lot. How about a law?

So It Goes

Kurt Vonnegut has died.
Here is where I would say something profound and beautiful about the myriad ways in which he shaped my aesthetic and helped me to become the writer and person I am today.
Let me just say that I read Slaughterhouse Five because my father told me that I should read every book that had ever been banned. I started with Slaughterhouse Five and I became addicted to Vonnegut. So I worked my way through many Vonnegut novels. I learned from him that a book can be funny and make a bold political statement. That it can be imaginative in the largest sense of the word and can say something huge about the way we live.
I think for me this is the first time I have confronted the death of one of my literary heroes. I definitely would not be a writer today if I had never read Slaughterhouse Five. Or Cats' Cradle. Or "Welcome to the Monkey House." My favorite for a while was a sappy little story called "A Long Walk to Forever." It is sappy, but kind of sweet.
Vonnegut is dead. Long live Vonnegut!

When the Goose is Away

I know that's not the phrase, but it's apt. This weekend while Middlebrow was pursuing his Tallness Studies, I bonded with the wee one. We played Sorry (he wins every time!), read a few chapters of The Incredible Journey, played baseball in the backyard, and let Gus tug us along for a walk.
I watched a girly movie, "The Holiday," which I actually liked for many reasons.

1. Cameron Diaz: despite myself, I'm starting to actually like her; see "In Her Shoes."
2. Jude Law: dimples. No explanation needed.
3. Kate Winslet: already liked her. still like her.
4. Jack Black: not overly jokey, for once. Great!
5. Adorable sub-plots: kids, old men.
6. Amanda (Diaz) makes movie trailers for a living. Sometimes she hears movie trailers for her own life in her head. Complete with the movie trailer voice guy. These were some of my favorite surprising moments. I want someone to make a movie trailer for my life!
7. Heart: Lately I just want a movie with heart. Some emotion. Down with irony and cynicism! I want my romantic comedies to be romantic and funny with happy endings.

I also managed to drink a little too much red wine (oops!) and stay up late listening to Justin Timberlake and Shakira (and the Dixie Chicks and Cheryl Crow) on my iPod while doing (actually, messing up) Sodoku.

I also discovered I make a terrible single mother because I forgot to do the Easter Bunny shopping and had to have a friend do it for me. Easter was made more fun by my mid-afternoon nap which made me late picking up Middlebrow from the airport. Luckily, in the spirit of Easter, he was forgiving.

Made the basic potatoes-lamb chops-green bean Easter dinner. All in all it was a fun weekend. Did I mention the bottle of pre-made Margaritas? No? Well, those were good too. And the first meeting of my uber-writing group. All good.

Now it's the mad dash/sprint/grading marathon to the finish line.

Alanis Morissette "My Humps"

I actually like the Blackeyed Peas version of this song (good for running), but hearing Alanis sing it makes you realize (once again) how ridiculous the lyrics are.
It's hilarious! Must watch!

Not Another Spring Sonnet

Inspired by the contest over at Prarie Home Companion, I decided to write a non-spring Spring poem. Plus I still owe Hightouchmegastore about 9 poems from September. Plus it is Poetry Month and I hear tell that several poets are doing NaPoWriMo. Not me, but someone, somewhere. So here it is. And forgive my wonky lines. It's my first poem since September!

So here’s your sonnet, without daffodils,
sentiment or rain. Lacking any reference to green,
anything floral, fecund, or new. Not full
of love or harmony or peace. Do I seem
bitter? I’m not. It’s just when the pollen
comes out, I sneeze, and then I think
of all the chores still to do, chairs to haul in,
grill to put out. My husband needs to fix the sink.
Also, my perennial failure to maintain a garden.
But too, I’m glad. For one thing, this year
I vowed to give up on a lush yard. In
winter it’s easy to do. But I’ll renege, I fear.
Because, once again, I love every growing thing.
Despite myself, in spring I love the spring.

So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright

I've had that song in my head ever since I got back from Spring Break, where I visited Taliesin West, Frank Lloyd Wright's haven in the desert. The development in Scottsdale is so insane that it almost reaches out to the site. But when he bought the land (in 1937) there was no running water, no electricity, no road. He's spinning in his grave!
But the place was gorgeous, and the structures amazing. FLW was way before his time. He would be happy now, with the developments in environmental architecture and what not. But I had a good time. My father and I went on the "Behind the Scenes" tour, which included a snack inside the dining room, and several talks by intimates of FLW. What sticks with me is that FLW said that "architecture is frozen music" (actually I think someone else said it and he was just fond of it) and that architectural fellows used to be asked to bring a musical instrument and a formal outfit. Every once in a while they had big dinners and the fellows provided all the entertainment. That was back in the day when people were well-rounded. Now we just want to be good at one thing.
I'm in a bit of architecture obsession. I'm reading Devil in the White City, which Frank Lloyd Wright appears in, however briefly. The book has a lot of architecture big wigs in it (Olmstead, Sullivan), which I didn't know. Of course it makes sense, but I wasn't aware before I started reading it. The book combines two of my major obsessions: architecture and crime.
My obsession with architecture really has to do with an essay project I'm researching, but not really working on yet. It's called First Person Spaces, and it connects to the stuff I've done before, but I want to do a more sustained project, maybe linked stories and at least one essay.
I appreciate all the comments (two) about my blog silence. I've been busy and tired. Doing what, you might ask. Who knows? So far I know I'm not allergic to wheat, corn or tomatoes. I'm not allergic to decaf coffee. I've snuck in some beer and wine. I also ate three vegan cookies at a potluck and I didn't die. So I guess I'm okay. Slated for this week: oats, yeast, and maybe butter. I'll let you know. I have two boxes of Girl Scout Cookies in the freezer that call to me incessantly. The prognosis is not good.
On the up side, I did run a few times and I'm sore! I've also done yoga. Also sore.
I love you all, my pretties.

We're Baaack!

Why is going back to school after Spring Break so hard? Is it the numerous margaritas you drank? Is the whole week of structureless fun? Is it the fact that it's dark at 6:30 in the morning? Is it the dog's ceaseless hacking?
Or is the fact that so few students show up you wonder if you are in the wrong room/school/life?

It is probably all of the above. For a minute I thought we only had four weeks left. No. Not true. We have six weeks left. How can that be?

I will post some Spring Break pictures later. They will include Frank Lloyd Wright buildings, children who don't care at a baseball game (only 99 degrees!), and my mom's backyard.

I did do a lot of crossword puzzles, read one book (The Last American Man), watched Idol (I don't even want to talk about it!), saw one movie (Dreamgirls, two thumbs up!), and, as previously mentioned, drank more than one margarita. And I'm doing okay on my bracket. My alma mater is still in it (Go Ducks!!).

Why I Loved AWP: a list

1. Intellectual Stimulation: In my day to day life I often forget that I did love graduate school and why. I was surrounded by people who were reading and thinking, and most importantly, talking about what they were reading and thinking about. I was one of those people. I used to read more and think a lot. In my regular life, I am most preoccupied with what is for dinner, how I am going to get to work out, and feeling guilty about not writing. Being at AWP reminded me of the best parts of graduate school. Talking and thinking. And drinking of course.
2. Friends: In my day to day life, I see Middlebrow and Son. If I'm lucky, I see one of my colleagues. Maybe once a month I see someone else or do something social. Maybe. AWP is like my whole life packed into one weekend. I got to hang out with Hightouchmegastore, I got to see lots of friends from graduate school, I got to see a friend from Chicago, I got to see friends from my town that I never see in town. Why do I never see my friends in town? Well. I'm glad I got to see all of these people and more at AWP.
3. Rock Star Writers: I got to see writers who are, in my mind, rock stars. These include: Michael Martone, David Kirby, Walter Moseley, David Shields. (I feel like I should list some women, but I didn't really see any. Who would qualify in this respect? Maybe Brenda Hillman. Anne Carson, definitely.)
4. Being Not-Me: I got to pretend I was someone other than the boring, normal person I am. I wore red pumps (but only in the hotel where I wouldn't have to walk too much). I hugged a person I'd never met before (okay, I might have been a little drunk). I accidently networked. I pretended I was a mover and a shaker. I was, for a few brief days, a mover and a shaker.
5. Free Drinks (self-explanatory)
6. Readings: mostly good.
7. Accidental encounters with beloved people: mostly Peter Covino. But also Terrible Mother. And David Hamilton. And friends from grad school. And Janet Holmes and Alvin Greenburg.
8. Seeing nice publishers who remember my essay (Ninth Letter).
9. Seeing Ralph Berry from FC2, and maybe reminding him of how great I am (accidently).
10. The Book Fair: By the last day, I can't stand it, but in general it's where you run into the people you want to see but can't find and where you find all kinds of things you can't live without and must buy. High Touch was better on this score, buying all kinds of small press cool things. I tried to restrain myself and bought only 4 books. I consider it a small victory.

Home from AWP

I made it home, exhausted, and perhaps a little worse for wear. I was a bit ill when I left for Atlanta, and the fun, excitement, not to mention the rain, probably did me no good. But what the hell! It was fun!
The highlight of the trip, as it always is, was the dinner with Utah friends, some of whom do not live in Utah anymore, and one of whom never did, save the week of Writers at Work. We cabbed from the Hilton to Fuego, where we enjoyed Sangria, $1 tapas and regular sized/priced tapas (~$6). The food was great. Hard to say what was best, but the mussells were good, as was the pork tenderloin with sweet potato mash. And the tuna. And the grilled asparagus. And the wine. Very good. All of it.
Then we decided to walk the two miles back to the hotel, and we got to see a bit of Atlanta. We stopped on the way at a wine bar Felicia had seen earlier that day, Eno. We sat at the bar and shared a bottle of wine. It was a fun outing, including having a kind stranger pull Felicia's pump out of a grate on Peachtree Street. Good stuff.
We returned to the hotel, surfed the receptions, where we had our share of free beverages, then went to the Michael Martone & John Barth reading. I didn't talk to either of them, but it was a good reading.
Other high points: Meeting David Kirby at the bookfair and telling him I used his poem in my theory class. The real high point of that was when he thanked us "for our adjectives" and told Hightouchmegastore as we were parting, "Email me!"
Attending the FC2 reception, which turned into a tribute to Ralph Berry, who is stepping down as publisher. I met Lance Olsen and talked to him for awhile. I also got to chat briefly with Michael Martone, and thanked him for sending me his book, Seeing Eye.
I ran into numerous other people, known and unknown. I saw David Hamilton, who may be the sweetest person ever. I got to see former professors and current friends.
The best panel I attended was on structure and included a handout of "The Things They Carried" by Samantha Chang. Michael Martone did an amazing collage essay on "In the Heart of the Heart of the Country." The whole panel was really brilliant, and will be helpful to me, I think, in my writing and my teaching.
I also got to see Steve Fellner and bought his book, Blind Date with Cavafy . It's so amazing, sweet and funny and sad, and I'm so happy he found a publisher. It gives me a little hope. It's a great book, and he deserves to get more attention for his writing.
Regrets: because of my illness I did not get to run in Atlanta. I also didn't get to use the pool, because it was a little too cold. Also, I only got to see Terrible Mother once. I think my lack of a cell phone is really hurting my social life. It may be time to get a cell phone.
And then Middlebrow got a dog while I was gone. For more info on that, see his blog. For pics of the trip, etc., you can click on my Flickr badge.
I'm glad to be home.

Oscar Redux & AWP Preview

Well, I did pretty well this year. 14 of my picks were correct!
I am most proud of choosing Alan Arkin for Supporting Actor, and "Babel" for original score.
I also like that "Little Miss Sunshine" won for best original screenplay. His was probably my favorite acceptance speech. I liked that when he was kid he had actually taken a 600 mile road trip with his family in a VW van with a broken clutch. 600 miles?!? No big surprises other than Arkin. I guess Melissa Ethridge was a surprise, but I can't say I had strong feelings about that category.

In other news, Hightouchmegastore and I depart on Wednesday for parts Southern (and warm, I'm hoping for warm!). In Atlanta we will hob-nob, no doubt, with great writers and those who possess great wit and charm. I'm speaking, of course, of none other than Otterbutt and Terrible Mother. We may see some other people too, who knows, but those are the important ones. Because of my stupid diet (do I seem testy?), I won't get to drink, but I look forward to enjoying their company while eating copious amounts of allowed food (which are those?) and pointing out famous writers.
No one is reading this year that I would want to stalk, but maybe I'll stand in line to give John Barth some kind of testimonial about how "Lost in the Funhouse" changed my life. It did! I swear!

I hope we get to see a movie on the plane. Yeah! Movie!
See you on the flip side. And by flip side I mean later.

Oscars!

It wouldn't be right if I didn't post my picks for tomorrow's Oscars. I have to say that this year I think I have been the least involved of any year, except for maybe the year Son was born! But, I did manage to see one of the Best Picture nominees, so I feel entitled to pick at will. And so......

Best Picture: Little Miss Sunshine (I love a underdog!)
Director: Martin Scorsese (A make-up Oscar. He deserves one, maybe not for this film....)
Actor: Forest Whitaker!!!! (I heart him!)
Actress: Helen Mirren (the Queen of our hearts!)
Supporting Actor: Alan Arkin (maybe a long shot, but he was so funny!)
Supporting Actress: Jennifer Hudson (I'm a sucker for a good story)
Adapted Screenplay: Little Children (I wasn't crazy about the novel, but it was a novel!)
Original Screenplay: Little Miss Sunshine (great dialogue!)
Animated Feature: Happy Feet (penguins win!)
Art Direction: Pan's Labyrinth (I haven't seen it, but I've heard)
Documentary Feature: Iraq in Fragments (a political win)
Foreign-Language: The Lives of Others (I've read reviews)
Art Direction: Pan's Labyrinth
Cinematography: The Prestige (because it's the only other one I've seen)
Costume Design: Dreamgirls
Editing: Babel (because it needed some? the cuts from scene to scene?)
Makeup: Pan's Labyrinth
Score: Babel (why not?)
Song: Um, something from Dreamgirls? The odds are good (3 out of 5?) I'll choose "Listen"
Animated Short: The Danish Poet (because it has Poet in the title)
Live action Short: Binta and the Great Idea (I liked the picture)
Documentary Short: Recycled Life (I don't know, I like the title)
Sound Editing: Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest (like I have any idea)
Sound Mixing: Dreamgirls (because it has music?)
Visual Effects: Superman Returns (because I've seen it)

Well, check back Monday for my numbers. One year I won a free pass for a movie, and Middlebrow and I saw "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" for free. Yeah! But I haven't entered anything this year.
Did I mention I love award shows?

On "American Idol"

Like most people, I am addicted to “American Idol.” And, like most people, I like to think I’m smarter than the rest of those idiots who watch “American Idol.” Unlike them, I have not watched every season of "American Idol," I do not vote on "American Idol," and, I am not obsessed with being on "American Idol." It’s because I can’t sing. I don’t even sing in the shower. Sometimes, when I’m alone in my 2001 Saturn SL, I crank up the factory installed FM radio and sing along with Rick Springfield doing “Jesse’s Girl.” I also like to sing along to the Talking Heads and Death Cab for Cutie, but in no way do I think this qualifies me to even stand in line to try out for "American Idol." I am not one of those non-singers who thinks that just because I agree with Simon, somehow I can sing. Nor am I one of those non-singers who tries out just so I can be on the humiliating worst-of outtakes and then claim, to anyone who will listen, “I was on ‘American Idol.’”
I would like to say that my ability to recognize my lack of talent in the singing department somehow makes me above it all, that unlike other Americans I don’t think I will somehow have my 15 seconds of fame, but it’s not true. My 15 seconds will come, eventually, when I receive a long-deserved literary prize for the novel I’m currently not-writing. Then all those people who didn’t get my artistic vision, who didn’t like the rhyming poems about penguins that I wrote in grade school, or the people who didn't get me in graduate school, who said things like "I don't like the main character. Why is she so angry?", all those people will be sorry, and will claim to have known me when, and when I’m walking around town in a long black evening gown and tiara, carrying my prize in my arms as if it were a newborn baby, I will snub them by turning away when they wave. Or perhaps I will condescend to give them a little smile that conveys, “Not now, little people, I’m busy.”
I know. I can’t claim to be smarter, or that I’m not prey to the little movie we all have in our heads, you know the one, the one where you look so amazing even you are a little in love with you, and the confetti falls from the rafters and everyone is clapping, and you see yourself with that “Who? Me?” look on your face, like you just can’t believe it, it’s finally happened, finally, everyone sees what a genius, what an amazing person you were all along, and finally you’re going to get an oversized check for a million dollars. The truth is, we all have that little movie in our heads. Maybe it’s part of human evolution. Where cave men would draw paintings of themselves killing a giant mammoth, we make movies in our heads where we finally get what we think we deserve. It keeps us alive. Maybe these narracisstic little movies help us get up in the morning, even if we never change out of our pajamas.
Maybe that’s why 52 million of us love American Idol. Because while we’re watching 24 singers compete for one title, we believe that our little success fantasies could come true. It’s the American Dream, small town nobody becomes big time superstar and starts dating Justin Timberlake and/or Brittney Spears. It could happen. Or at least we need to believe it can. And isn’t that why TV is so popular? We need to believe that someone’s life is better than ours. Or we need to believe that we are better, more talented, smarter than someone else. I know I am. I'm better than all those other idiots out there who are thinking the exact same thing.

The Benefit of Low Expectations

My favorite thing about seeing movies at the Dollar Theater (which actually costs $1.50, but nevermind about that, that doesn't have the same ring as Dollar Theater, who would call it the Dollar-Fifty Theater?) is that my expectations are so low, I am often pleasantly surprised when the movie is better than average, good even.
Take tonight's selection, "Stranger Than Fiction." Going in, I knew it starred Will Ferrell (whom I love, and will always love if for no other reason than the Cheerleader Skit on SNL), Emma Thompson (who doesn't love Emma Thompson? If you don't, I don't want to know. She said something once in an interview about having a "big-shouldered" admiration for something or someone, I forget, but I still think she was talking about me), Maggie Gyllenhal (besides having the world's most attractive brother AND husband (is that fair?), she's an amazing actress), Dustin Hoffman (as a college professor! who is also a lifeguard! and reads Sue Grafton while he's lifeguarding!), and wait, I haven't even gotten to the best part, Queen Latifah!!! (as the writer's assistant. Is that fair? I'm sure I could write a great novel if I had Queen Latifah to bring me coffee and arrange notecards in my sparsley furnished apartment).
My expectations for this film were low. How low? Well, I had heard almost nothing about it (buzz=0), and it seemed like it had hit the dollar theater pretty quickly, so I was prepared for it to be funny in parts, charming in parts, and to have some flaw, major or minor, that would make me like it a little less.
Well, of course I was pleasantly surprised. The only flaw, that I could see, were the several scenes where the mic was lowered too far. But being the great post-modernist that I am, I wondered, briefly, if I was supposed to see the mic. Like the director reminding me, "hello! you're watching a movie!" Unfortunately, I think it was just a mistake. But, as I said, that was the only flaw.
The great strengths of this film, aside from the amazing cast, were the intelligent script, the clever but not too clever camera work, and soundtrack.
Plus, Dustin Hoffman, as charming, caffeine-swilling, self-involved college professor, gets to say, quoting from a line that is the Will Ferrell character's life, "Little did he know? Little did he know? I wrote a paper on 'Little did he know.' I taught a whole seminar on 'Little did he know.'" Perhaps the reason this film did not do better is because only graduate students and college teachers will think that is funny.
But count me pleasantly surprised. I highly recommend this film. And, actually, the dollar theater is still the dollar theater before five.
So that's the benefit of low expectations.
(Unfortunately, my expectations were not so low for the Ginger dairy-free, gluten-free, egg-free cookie I took as my "snack." Let's just say I was not pleasantly surprised. But I did eat the whole thing.)

Happy VD!

Inspired by Dean Dad's Valentine's Day post (well, maybe more by some of the comments, though the post itself was very sweet), I've decided to tell you a heartwaming story about how Middlebrow and I got together (exactly 10 years ago!).
First let me say that we went on three dates before we even kissed. On date three, we talked about couples we admired, people who seemed to have genuine partnerships and equality. We talked about how we didn't want to be like our parents (his still married, mine divorced and married to new partners), mostly because we didn't like the imbalance we observed. Among the people we admired were professors in the department where we were both graduate students. One couple we liked for their choices: one car, they took turns cooking and caring for their children, and they both were (are) successful in their respective fields. That, we said, was how we wanted to be. Let me remind you, we hadn't even kissed yet!
Maybe a week or so after we actually kissed, it was Valentine's Day. We agreed that we were against it, Middlebrow mostly because of his employment at a grocery store where, on February 14th, he saw man after man come through his line with a card and a bunch of flowers. Original. So though we don't celebrate this holiday (that is, after all, just another way for companies to get you to buy their products), I'm always reminded that we "got together," as the euphemism goes, right around this time.
It's mind boggling to think that we started dating 10 years ago. (Just for the record, we got engaged after we dated for four months, though I lied and told my parents it had been six months and we got married after we had been engaged for a year). We got engaged after we had the "what are we doing next year?" talk in the kitchen of my apartment. I said something like "I'm not living with someone ever again unless I'm married." We had already decided we wanted to go to graduate school. The next day we were grading papers in a cafe and Middlebrow looked at me and said, "What happened last night? Did we decide to get married?"
But looking back, we have done most of what we talked about on that third date. We finished graduate school, sharing the childcare the whole time. We both have jobs, and we still split the childcare (though I have to say that, lately, Middlebrow has done more than I have). We both cook and do laundry (though, of course, I think I do more of both); Middlebrow does all the man things like killing spiders and plunging toilets and fixing bathrooms.
But, all in all, we have a very equal arrangement. We both like to sit around and read. We like to drink wine and watch movies. Is this not, I ask you, the basis of all good relationships?
And just a note in response to some of those comments over at Dean Dad: some women want to stay home with their kids. I know many women who do and are perfectly content. I'm just not one of those people. But I'm glad I could make the choice I did, and I'm glad I found a person who wanted to make those same choices. This, to me, is one of the great rewards of feminism: we get to invent what we want home, marriage, and family to mean to us. Not that we judge women who make choices we would not make. But that support exists for women to make a variety of choices, and that we support and facilitate each other's choices. (I recognize not all women are free to choose. And we work to change that. But some women are free to choose. And we support that.)
On that note: Happy Valentine's Day!!

Happiness? Location? Money?

Middlebrow and I have been having our annual go-round about whether we can just choose to be happy, if where we live is more important than our salaries, and if we need more money. Oh yeah, and how our house is too small. We always agree on that.
Right now at our CC we are having the annual discussion about how we are woefully underpaid. It's stunning, however, to see exactly how underpaid we are, compared to CCs in other parts of the country. I could be making about $30,000 more a year if I lived in, say, California. Aye, as they say, there's the rub. We don't want to live in California. We do, however, want to make $30,000 more a year. I know, housing would cost more. But that much more per year?
In my mind, it's all about long-term benefits, meaning retirement, and earnings over the course of my career.
Of course, I have to remind myself that we love Son's school, and that, having lived here for almost nine years, we have an actual community, something we both value highly. But, are we allowing ourselves to be exploited?
Obviously I didn't go into teaching for the money. But it's apalling how little we are being paid for the same work (in some cases more work!) than teachers in other parts of the country!
So how do we decide what's more important? Lately I've been leaning towards being happy. But with the new information I've been receiving, I feel like maybe I'm selling myself short. I know the legislature in our fair state is not going to wake up and raise our salaries (at least not in my lifetime). I do love where we live, though I don't always love the politics or the liquor laws. I love our proximity to outdoor recreation. Did I mention that our house is too small?
Today I looked at job listings in other states. It looks like I could start for at least $10,000 more almost anywhere else.
Tell me, what's a girl to do?

Travels in Gastro-Intestinal Health

I realize the title to this post does not bode well. Those of you who know me know that I like to complain that my stomach hurts. Well, I finally went to see a Naturopath. I found out many things, including that our state has one of the most rigorous processes for certifying NDs. Also, my insurance covers it. Yeah!
So. I went in armed with my paper work and my suspicions about what I am allergic to, maybe. My guesses: dairy, wheat, soy. So, my plan is to do an elimination diet and then reintroduce foods, one every two days.
What, you might ask, does one possibly eat when one is not eating anything? It turns out mostly fruits and vegetable (but not corn, and no citrus). Also, I need to eliminate rice because I eat so much of it. But, surprisingly, lamb and pears are two of the most hypoallergenic foods. So I can eat lamb and pears! I can also eat chicken and fish. And potatoes. Yeah potatoes!! I'm also eliminating nuts and seeds. Then after you start to feel better (how long is that?), you reintroduce the food. You have to eat a lot of the food for one day. The part that describes drinking a big glass of milk makes me want to throw up. So I think I'll skip that one, but I may test cottage cheese, etc.
Meanwhile, I'm taking lots of supplements, many of which are supposed to help my stomach and some of which are just for general health. And one to help me sleep. I'll let you know how that goes.
All this to say that if I seem irritable and fatigued, you'll know why. Come Monday, I'll be subsisting on vegetables and fowl. But I might be sleeping more, so it could even out.
And yes, this means no wine. No wine? Somehow I'll muddle through.

The Tyranny of the Child's Birthday Party

As Middlebrow and I sat last night contemplating where (o where?) we might be able to have Son's 6th Birthday party, we remembered: we never had no stinking parties!!
When we were kids, we maybe had a few friends over and played pin the tail on the donkey. Since my birthday is in December, we couldn't have an outdoor party. I don't remember any parties from when I was a kid. Except when I was in 8th grade and my best friend and I had a joint birthday party at the Holiday Inn. Complete with sleep over at the hotel, swimming and miniature golf. Those were the days, baby!
But as I edged nearer to a nervous breakdown last night, wrestling with the guilt I would feel if we didn't invite everyone, imagining the school ostracisim of us, the exclusive partiers, trying to figure out how we were going to either a) pay for every child in his Kindergarten class to go bowling or b) fit everyone in his Kindergarten class into our 500 sq. ft. home, Middlebrow came up with an elegant solution so simple it boggled the mind: no party.
What? you will say. No party! But listen here: I hardly ever had parties, and I turned out fine. When Son was 4 we took his whole pre-school class bowling. Were we nuts? yes! It was insane!
Last year we invited just the boys to our house for a Spiderman birthday.
But this year: Middlebrow will take Son and a friend or two for an afternoon extravaganza. The benefits: no presents! no paper plates! no pizza and cake to throw away! no goodie bags!
Son and I will make a cake to his specifications. Frosting! Decorations! Hooray!
And we don't have to spend $200 to do it! Ah, the liberation of simplicity!

Recipe for Happiness

1. Swim often. Why do I continually have to relearn this? I finally bought a new swim cap ($8.95 at Pool and Patio) and then made it to the pool around 2 pm. The hours this semester are better, meaning I may be able to swim three days a week. Hip hip hooray!
2. Don't stay up too late drinking wine and watching the new DVD you just got in the mail, "Grease." (I blame Amazon and Middlebrow for this. But it's so tempting to begin a movie library. So far we have: Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, Hannah and Her Sisters, Annie Hall, Monster in a Box, When Harry Met Sally, and of course, Grease. Next I'm lobbying for Saturday Night Fever.)
3. Write every day. Again, I still haven't learned this. Even if it's only one sentence, I need to write every day. My sanity depends on it.
4. Play games with your child. It's fun! It has been too long since I sat down for a good game of Uno with Son. So today I did. He ate Triscuts while I munched on carrots. We each won one game. All fair! We are also fond of Blink, Clue jr., Dinosaur Dig, chess (well, he's fond of it. and I try hard), Connect Four, and any card games.
5. Get your errands out of the way. This, again, is a lesson I constantly relearn. Why do I defer? I finally got over to REI and they replaced part of my binding for free. Free! And I returned some pants and then I got my new swim cap, all things I've needed to do for what feels like forever.
6. Sometimes, eat canned soup for dinner. This goes to sanity. Sometimes, I just can't care about cooking. Mostly the day after I stayed up until 1 a.m. watching movies. But it's okay. Also good: bagged salad, and sandwich night. All good. And the added bonus of very little clean up.
7. Take Son sledding or skiing. Must get outside. Ignore inversion. Get ya-yas out. Must get ya-yas out.
8. Take time to chat with acquaintances. I'm always pleasantly surprised when I see someone I know at, say, the grocery store or the library. I like to chat with them. It makes me feel like I live in a community rather than a city.
9. Sometimes, sit and stare into space.
10. Ignore your email. Every once in a while.

Take a Minute

I spent a few hours yesterday volunteering for an amazing film at Sundance, The Devil Came on Horseback. It is about photographer Brian Steidle and the photos he took in Darfur. I was actually working for SaveDarfur. The film was horrifying, showing footage Steidle took when he was in Darfur and still photos he took of the bodies. He was one of the first people to bring pictures back of the genocide. He and the filmmakers were actually at the film, along with a survivor from Darfur who is working to collect survivor testimonies.
What's most horrifying about this film and Steidle's work, however, is that we've known about the genocide in Darfur for so long and still are doing nothing. In my work at the college, I get the opportunity to meet many amazing African students. I always wonder what they think of American culture, when they have so recently come from refugee camps where there are no schools, and see us with our laptops and iPods, ignoring all the people being killed whom we could save, if only we could get our political leaders to pay attention.
Please take a minute to follow the link above to SaveDarfur.org, and send an email to President Bush. With all the money we are spending to kill people in Iraq, it seems that we can afford to spend a little money to save lives in Darfur.
I believe more and more people are paying attention and raising their voices for this cause. Please join me. And see the film if you can. It's playing in town again next week.

Wrong!

Well, it should be no surprise to anyone that I was right about only 5 Globes, and wrong about 15. But c'mon. I hadn't seen any of the movies, and hardly any of the shows, so 5 is pretty good under the circumstances.
Most hideous dress: Cameron Diaz (you know, since "In Her Shoes" I love her, but her dress looked like gauze. With a wing. I mean, c'mon)
Hottie: Reese Witherspoon. Divorce looks good on her!
Dress I need to see again: The actress who plays Dr. Torres on "Grey's Anatomy." First of all, I didn't think they would win. Second, they only showed like two people's dresses and then they hurried them off the stage. She had on an intense red dress and she looked great (I think?).
Best speech: Well, it's a toss up. But the Brits definitely won. First Hugh Laurie said his crew "always smelled of freshly mown grass" an image I used in my creative writing class today. But Sasha Cohen's whole fart speech was hilarious. And Bill Nighy saying, "I used to think awards were empty, useless things. Then I received one. Now I know they are meaningful." Priceless! And Jeremy Iron too. And Helen Mirren. Yes. The Brits rule. Oh! Except for Meryl Streep. She made a statement about small movies. Love her!
Worst speech: Um, everyone else? Why can't American actors stop thanking their press agents and lawyers? It's gross. And boring. Hello. We want imagery and dry humor!
Back to work. Until Oscar time!

Globe Picks

Well. I do feel better, thank you very much, but I am sad that tonight is not the night of the Golden Globe Awards. Here at Dr. Write, inc, we really love us some award shows. So, because it is too cold to go outside for any reason besides getting in the car, I will name some names I hope to hear tomorrow night. Also I hope to see some hideous fashion on the red carpet. That's almost as fun as the good fashion.
Let me just preface this by saying that, unlike other years when I have seen at least one or two of the movies nominated, this year I have seen exactly NONE of the dramas, and only ONE of the comedies. So my picks for who will win are, of course, educated.
I have to say that when Judi Dench is up against Helen Mirren my mind does a sort of crazy tango. But I have to pick Judi Dench for the Best Actress in a Drama category, because it's SO OBVIOUS that Helen Mirren is going to win for Prime Suspect. It was the last one. Of course she's going to win.
Okay, let's see, Leonardo DiCaprio or Leonardo DiCaprio? I'll pick Forest Whitaker. Why? Because he's Forest Whitaker.
In Comedy, I actually have seen one, which I will pick: Little Miss Sunshine. Funny. And heartwarming.
For actress, I'll pick Toni Colette, because she's been my favorite for so long. But I know it will go to Beyonce. I have nothing against Beyonce, but people love to give a rock star an acting award. They just do!
I want Chiwetel Ejiofor to win for Actor. Why? Because I have seen Kinky Boots. And also I want to see someone with a cue card try to pronounce his name!
In Supporting, I think Jennifer Hudson will win for Dreamgirls. Buzz, people, it's all about buzz. And I like me some American Idol revenge too. Who doesn't?
I'm gonna pick Mark Wahlberg for supporting actor. He's Marky Mark. Say no more.
Animation: Cars
Foreign: Apocalypto? Ha. Ha ha. No, Volver.
Director: Scorese. Because they feel sorry for him. Poor Martin.
Screenplay: Notes on a Scandal or Little Children (for obvious reasons. I'm a writer!)
Score: No pick
Song: Listen from Dreamgirls
Best TV Drama: Heroes (buzz!)
TV Actress: Edie Falco
TV Actor: Michael C. Hall
Best TV Series: The Office
TV Actress, Comedy: Julia Louis-Dreyfus!!
Actor: It's going to go to Zach Braff because it's his last year. But it should go to Steve Carrell.
Best Mini-Series: Prime Suspect!
Best Actress in M.S.: Helen Mirren!
Best Actor in M.S.: Bill Nighy (haven't seen it. But I heart him!)
Supporting Actress, series: Sarah Paulson from Studio 60 (and to think I once found her annoying!)
Actor: No idea.
I hope this wasn't too annoying. Check back in Tuesday for cynicism and mirth at the winners/losers/fashion losers.
BTW, I've been wearing my pajamas for about 4 days. That's right: fashion loser!

Sedentary. Jet-Lagged. Cold. Me.

After two days of hanging out in my pajamas (okay, today I actually showered AND changed out of my pjs), I finally feel almost healthy again. I think I have recovered from Jet Lag. Symptoms: cloudy head, confusion, body weighed down by gravity, 7:30 bedtime, 6:30 a.m. waking. I recovered from jet lag only to be clotheslined by whatever cold/flu/death virus is currently in vogue. One day I felt great, the next I was convinced I had strep and at least three different varieties of flu and/or sinus infection. But I seem to be doing better. Unfortunately, I have been informed that intermittent recovery is one of the signs of this cold/flu/death virus. So it could be I feel okay until tomorrow. Whatever.
I am taking the opportunity of this long weekend to pick up anything lying on the floor of my house and shove it in a garbage bag. Then, I might dust. If I feel like it. I most definitely will not clean the bathroom. I may watch a movie. I already read one book (entirely unrelated to school!) and I may read another. Oh, and also finish a few books I only have one more chapter of and add them to last year's book totals.
I am definitely NOT doing any outdoor sporting events. Have you been out there? With the wind chill it goes from f*ing cold to too damn f*ing cold, which is why the geniuses of our time have invented TV and DVDs and what not.
Happy Long Weekend. And let's take some time to remember why we have an extra day off. And not be too cynical about whoever our local organizations have invited to speak. I'm just going to try to be nice, which for me, right now, is a challenge.
Happy Winter!

Home from the Land of Mayo and Smoking

We made it back! We're alive! And alert, yet tired.
Yesterday was an exhausting long distance event. We left our hotel in Madrid at 10 a.m. local time (2 a.m. hometown time). We spent three hours in the Madrid airport (mostly drinking cafe and eating, so it was good), then 9+ hours on a flight to Atlanta. Yes, that's correct, 9+.
The pros of the flight were the movies, "Scoop" which was okay, and "Invincible" which was good (I love me a sports feel good movie), and the food. On overseas flights, I feel they try to convince you about the time change using food. They bring out the food, proclaiming, Okay, it's dinner time, regardless of the actual time, and everyone just goes along with it. But the food was actually good, there was an ice cream snack in the middle of the flight, and I was sitting next to the most adorable girl ever (she was Spanish). At one point she clued me in to which in-flight radio station I should be listening to by saying, "Seis. Shakira" and dancing around in her seat. I almost spoke her level of Spanish.
The negative aspect of this flight was that about the time we wanted Son to take a nap (about six hours into the flight), he became Devil Child, writhing around, falling on the floor, pinching and hitting us. Basically proving to everyone on the flight that we are Bad Parents. On the plus side, the minute we boarded the plane in Atlanta, he fell asleep and slept the whole way home.
So, from Madrid to our doorstep was 21 hours. Oh joy! We went to sleep around 11:30, but we all woke up, wide awake, at 6:30. Son wanted breakfast, so we all got up. I just fed him an enormous lunch, so we'll see how our body clocks work on adjusting back to our schedule stateside. No more siestas or dinner at 9 pm!
All in all, a great trip. Son picked up more Spanish than we realize. Yesterday at the Atlanta airport he said, "Dos. I have to go dos. In my language, we say dos." Cute, and yet. . .
I loved Spain, though I won't miss the constant smoking. As a parting gesture, our departure gate was near the "Smoking Point" in the airport, which of course had no doors, so the smoke just drifted out so that we could all share in it.
As Son said, Why does everyone in Spain have to smoke? And let their dogs poop on the sidewalk. But that's another conversation all together.
Glad to be back. Stunned that I have to go back to work on Monday.