Starting Early

Whoohoo!!!

I just found out that just about everybody is leaving work by 12:30!

Does this mean I'll get everything else done that I want to finish today? No.

But it was nice for a minute to imagine that I would.

Oops! I Did It Again, I Gave You My Robe

Oh my.

I don't know which part of this is making me laugh more.

The fact that this is even a topic for a hit song, (doesn't my shiny head look sexy when it reflects this pretty saffron dress?)

or the fact that because of all this publicity, it will probably have a club mix version in your local hot-spot soon.

1000 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall

Well lookey there. All this holiday revelry almost made me miss the fact that I've reached 1000 hits!

I never would have thought I'd keep this going so long and so well (patting my shoulder ever so self-lovingly) and I thank the friends I have whose faces I see semi-regularly for dragging me up onto the bandwagon with limbs flailing, namely the East Coast League of Alpha Justice Teamforce Men and Women and their associates and cohorts (namely, most of the "People" section to your right!). You're only one corporate sponsorship away from a Think-Tank, and I'll be proud to say I knew you when, or then, or now, or whatever.

I would also like to personally thank Jack, Julie, Darek and Tara, and by association all those who land or lurk here via their own little corners of blogland. All disproven assumptions back in September (has it only been that long? seems like forever...) had me imagining a place where people I already know would come to keep in touch and share funny anecdotes about lice and things. I never thought I'd actually find new friends. As far as I know, they don't even have lice. Nice!

I know I can't mention everyone...all you blogs down on my blogroll that I've just started reading and getting to know...I'm looking forward to more good reads. I've learned that my writing and reading go in cycles here; there are weeks where I can't find things to say, and weeks where the thoughts and stories seem endless. But, I think that makes it that much more entertaining.

At least all this sappyness is not holiday-induced. Does Hallmark make cards for blogs yet?

Thanks guys. You rock.

Back To The Flatlands

I feel as if I am entering some warped realm of National Lampoon Christmases yet to come.

We had an absolutely fabulous trip to Vermont, complete with good beer, proof that moose crossing signs are necessary (not necessarily in that order), good live music and an unhurried visit with the fun side of the hub's family.

Except for the ride home on the Interstate Slip-N-Slide of Death, it was a very happy lead-in to the holiday.

I don't want to be overly negative about those 18-wheeled monsters that probably took a year off my heart last night, but SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!!!!!!!!! Seriously, did that jackknifed truck we just passed in the center of the highway and the fact that I just fish-tailed in front of you really convince you that PASSING ME at 50 mph was a good fucking idea?! Ugh. This is why moving to some place colder and snowier makes me a little edgy.

However, with that behind us, now the insanity can really begin. How many households can you fit into three days? Try four. No really, try it.

And I still think I'm going to get ornaments painted by Thursday. Sorry, folks, the I-Think-I-Can Train has left the station! Christmas presents received by New Year's might not impress Martha, but the sparkly goodness that I'm going to impress you with will just have to wait one more day.

Alas, it is a half hour from the end of the work day, and the bright sun and clear blue sky is almost convincing me that it's no longer 0 degrees on the other side of my window. I'll just hold back from opening the door for a little while longer. It's an excellent driving day now, my friends! Let's hope there's a good CD in the Prizm.

Save Our Airwaves

Many radio stations discontinue their regularly scheduled programming in exchange for 24-hour Christmas music these days.

It should be blatantly obvious to them that you should really not try to do this.

This is evident in the song I just suffered through with sheer force of humor, a rendition of The Nutcracker Suite that fell somewhere between Ween, the Boston Pops, and a Clockwork Orange. It has now been followed by something that was quite possibly composed by a bitter disowned second cousin of Bob Marley, in collaboration with Gloria Estefan.

Holiday music should stir feelings of joy and memories of childhood, not fear and confusion.

Days Fly By!

I am sorry to say that my lack of posting is probably going to continue for a little while! A long busy weekend coupled with a visit with my parents has turned into a busy beginning of the work week, and this afternoon we are driving 8 hours to Vermont for four days, to be followed by three days of work, Christmas shopping which has yet to even be started, crafts during the VT visit if I can fit them in (making gifts), a dinner with friends next Wednesday, and traveling to eastern PA for holiday visits next Thursday or Friday.


HOLY CRAP!

So I shall be leaving the frazzled unky up for awhile, and I hope all of you can settle for my drive-by comments and the occasional post to say hello.

I would like to leave everyone with something to comment on and discuss however, so I have my own holiday question for all of you who do holidays, or have in the past. A year or two ago for an Anthropology class I had, we went out and interviewed people of all different backgrounds as to the five holiday foods that they couldn't live without. Of course we had the turkey, ham, sugar cookies, stuffing, etc....but the contributions of things like pickled eggs or oysters were what made it a great study. What are yours?! (Besides, we love to cook and I'd love to throw in some new things!)

Hope everybody has a good vacation from work and can relax! That's the best part!

Ciao.

Off To Aspirin Land

Well kids, I'm leaving work early today, in about a half hour...

I've prepared myself once again by drinking four bottles of water all afternoon, and will soon be indulging in a big sticky dinner of dungeness crab and steamed veggies...

to be topped off with, probably, a few too many expensive beers and at least one white russian.

I apologize to those of you who - and you are to be commended for this, believe me - have stopped drinking altogether. I've actually been really good the past couple weeks (unintentionally, but happily) and I feel the night will not be as crazy as it would have been a few years ago! (Like when I got drunk with Phish on my 21st!)

But I hope that that little bit of Karma Tara was talking about earlier will keep us all safe and relatively hangover-free till tomorrow! This is what happens when you spend a few too many years living in a college/party-town (in the middle of nowhere, no less)!

Sorry all, I'm on a quiz kick.

You have the Reynolds girl look. Reynolds girls had
the typical British beauty. The eighteenth
century British portrait painters would have
been attracted by your brilliant complexion and
your classical features. Sir Joshua Reynolds
loved to paint girls like you in white dresses
with blue satin sashes. Reynolds and other
portrait painters of his time also portrayed
blue eyed, dark-haired girls, and golden-haired
ones too, plus the occasional red-head. The
following painters would have painted you; Sir
Joshua Reynolds and Sir Thomas Lawrence.


'Pretty As A Picture' - Which Artist Would Paint You?
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Bah!!!

There's a guy here who always sounds like he's being condescending to me when he calls. Everybody else is nice, or has responded well to my contagious charm, as I have broken their cold shell and yanked out the nice person inside. This guy just pisses me off. That doesn't happen often.

I think he thinks he's better than everybody else. I hate that in a person more than anything. Screw you for being mean to me on my birthday. I smite you with my laser!!! Take that, ignorant, inconsiderate fool!!!! Pppttttthtttttttt!

Wow, I feel better now. Inanimate imaginary lasers really work!!!

Love Story

Alright, I wasn't going to write today, but such a tragic yet heartwarming love story such as this caught my eye.

After canoodling in a corner with her lover, J-1, Aurora is forced to protect her babies from the meddling people who want to drain the life from them. Yet in the end, she perseveres, and her thousands of children can rest peacefully knowing that she'll
cleanse them until her skin puckers and her suckers get divots.

The End.

A Poem For The Afternoon

Feeling more like reading than like writing today...on these dreary, rainy winter days this always reemerges in my mind.

The Raven
by Edgar Allan Poe

First Published in 1845

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Lenore?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
"Lenore!" Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
" 'Tis the wind, and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath
Sent thee respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!

You are a silly English Knnnnnniggit! Brave, loyal,
and (somewhat) chaste, you follow your leader
without question...even though you're not
really that smart.


Which Monty Python & the Holy Grail Character are you REALLY?
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Hell Yeah! Take that!

You are a Sphinx! You are mocked for your unusual
appearance, but you are very loving and
devoted. People just need to give you a
chance!


What breed of cat are you?
brought to you by Quizilla


Um, sure. I guess. :-)

Lunch, again!

I would like to take this moment to thank Progresso Soup for creating a deliciously chunky Creamy Mushroom soup to warm me up on this damp winter day. You did what no space heater was able to do.

And an additional shout out to the people at Cabot Cheese, who never falter in constantly outdoing themselves in cheesy flavor explosions. The newest recipient of this applause is their spicylicious creation, the Habanero Cheddar (which I believe is not new, but just made it to our little PA town). Also equally warming, and great melted on top of your chili.

Mmmm.

Me Me Me Me Me. You Got A Problem With That?!

It's a holiday week! Time is running out to buy presents, send cards and have big extravagant dinners in celebration of this most celebratory week in the decades-long tradition of the most fantastic and exciting day of honorary festivities...

MY BIRTHDAY!

Oh yes, the big 2-8 is just three days away!
I am 28 years young! Nothing can stop me now....

Anyone who feels old can jump ship if you want. Youth is in the mind. Just ask these folks:

Youth is a wonderful thing. What a crime to waste it on children. ~George Bernard Shaw

To keep the heart unwrinkled, to be hopeful, kindly, cheerful, reverent that is to triumph over old age. ~Unknown

You grow up the day you have your first real laugh yourself. ~Ethel Barrymore

To me, old age is always 15 years older than I am. ~Bernard Baruch

There are three hundred and sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents ... and only one for birthday presents, you know. ~Lewis Carroll

No wise man ever wished to be younger. ~Jonathan Swift

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. ~Robert Browning

AND THIS YEAR, DAMN IT, I WANT CAKE. :-)

Pretty Mandolin

Finally got a chance to go out and see some good live music! A friend's band...bluegrass...the King Cotton Rounders. Cute little bar, too.

Give me a low-lit bar or cafe and some good local music over a stadium crowd any day!

I always forget how much I likes me some old-timey music, until I hear it live. Very good night!

Furry Sweater

Ever notice how there are things that happen to you that are funny when you're a child, and just annoying when you're an adult?

Did alot of laundry this weekend, and ran out of dryer sheets!
I feel like there are little electrical currents shooting out from my body in all directions.

It's funny, actually, until I try to remove my hair from my face...

...the adult equivalent of sticking static balloons on your head.
Quick! Turn out the lights! Fireworks!

The Cereal Of My Soul

It is my responsibility to keep this ship afloat!

I think that's what I've found so far to be the oddest thing about blogging.
At least, the aspect of it that allows you to come in contact with people from anywhere and feed them little snippets of your life.

If I don't start telling you something new every day, the ship starts sinking!

And unlike Seinfeld, who could probably tell you anecdotes about his socks for an hour and execute it flawlessly, I feel the need to pick things of a bit more substance.

Not the meat and potatoes; just the meat. Unfortunately, the butcher seems to be closed.

Today, you're all getting cheerios.