Voila!

Okay, it's slightly mutated but I finished Kermit part 1. The toe grafting is a little wonky and of course I haven't woven in the end - I am still me after all - but it is all done. It'll prolly be a little while before I cast on the 2nd one. I'll prolly work on Inny and then Rose for the Olympics before I head back to the 2nd sock.

P & I spent the day in knitting mode. First we went on a field trip to Knit Happens where she got her first touch of Cashmerino (I think). It was love at first fondle so she decided to get some to make her own scarf with - she can't wait to start on it for the Knitting Olympics. After we left KH we headed back to her place and spent the afternoon watching part of The Truth about Cats & Dogs, The Breakfast Club and the first half of Super Bowl XL.

Knocked out a few rows of Inny this afternoon, too. There's still no way I'm going to finish the back before Friday but if I can knock out a couple more inches, that would be groovy.

Memo to my Doctor's Office

The next time you tell me to drink 32 oz of water first thing in the morning and not use the bathroom until after my sonogram, it is the worst kind of sadism to have a FREAKIN' WATERFALL FEATURE/FOUNTAIN hanging in the waiting room! That's just cruel!

Memo part deux: trans-vaginal exam? Not as much fun as it sounds. I'm just sayin'.

Nine more inches to go on Inny. I'd love to finish the back, front, whatever side this is before the Knitting Olympics start. I just don't think it's going to happen. I still need to swatch Rose sometime in the next nine days, too. So much knitting, so little time.

The roomies and I went to yoga last night and today we're all pleasantly achy. Not in pain, like I was last time, but just kind of stretchy sore. We were supposed to go to the gym tonight, but thta didn't exactly pan out. My goal is to go to the gym 9 times this month - once every three days. It sounds like a ridiculously easy goal to attain, yet I'll be I somehow manage to blow it. Only time will tell.

VERB! That's what's happenin'!

It finally happened - what every English major dreams of. My name has now become a verb. Not my real name, of course, but my less-than-double-secret-name, Jingle.

I was informed this morning that apparently, in certain circles, "to be jingled" means to have other persons have intimate physical relations disturbingly closeby. For example, "Liz is worried about being jingled this weekend because she is in a condo with mostly couples." The high council is still working out the exact usage, but this is the gist of it.

And YOU - and you know who you are - don't even THINK about blaming this on me!

Monday meanderings

It's Monday night which means I'll be hard-pressed to turn off Animal Planet's Animal Cops (Michigan, SanFran, Houston, etc) marathon. I don't know why I watch this show - it usually just pisses me off. I could never be responsible for dealing with people who abused animals. I'd be arrested for beating the crap out of somebody.

Blew off SnB - again. Went to dinner and did a few rows of Inny tonight. Here's where she stands:
Slowly but surely. I was going to make the 'long version' but I think I may measure the hem-to-armhole distance on something that I know fits and see if it's closer to the short version or the long. Yes, I'm saying this largely because I'm tired of knitting it already. I am SUCH a process knitter. "What? I've mastered the 36-row repeat? Bored now..."

I worked on Kermit while waiting for the staff meeting to start this morning. People were most impressed, although I think it was more the self-striping yarn than anything else. I've turned the heel and have about an inch, inch and a half before I get to start to close on the toes. The picture makes it look kind of wonky - actually, my knitting makes it look wonky - but we'll see if it works.

Apparently there's some low-grade chatter going on about going on an Alaskan cruise in '07. I was fairly excited about going to Puerta Vallarta, but this may actually take precedence. I HATE cruises, but they keep coming up with ones I want to go on! Actually, an Alaskan cruise would probably be the last one I would take. At a glance, it looks like the price range is around $800-1000, not including the flight out to the West Coast. I guess I'll start saving money for that as soon as Italia is in the books.

Speaking of Italy - we have a SUPER tentative master plan. Leave the second week of Sept. and head to Venice, spend 3-4 days there, take the train to Firenze for a couple of days there, then train to Rome for another handful of days. If it ends up being too tight, we may cut out the pitstop in Firenze and maybe I'll just go back for a couple of days after Melyssa has to leave. She's a little more hamstrung by vacation time and work schedule than I am.

And your Team Hangover captain is...

moi.

[Thanks to Beadslut for the nifty button that perfectly describes my day]

Last night was the holiday party and for some reason I decided to be stupid. Didn't eat enough, didn't drink enough water, and drank too much beer. Damn you Coors Light! I don't even LIKE Coors Light. There was dancing and drinking and kick-ass brownies. And contraptions that I couldn't begin to explain the uses of.

See, the party was at an S&M club. How I let myself be dragged into these things, I will never know. But aside from the various and sundry padded benches and what have you scattered about the cavernous, warehouse-y structure, it was kinda no big deal. Thank goodness for the shuttle buses though - finding my way to and fro sketchy SW is so not my idea of a good time.

It wasn't a particularly late night but apparently I did a fair amt of damage in a brief amount of time and I've been paying for it ever since. The good news is I talked to Santofer this morning (when they called at noon and woke me up). The four of them are on vacation in Phoenix for the tail end of her maternity leave. They were on their way to the zoo. Our lives are in such two totally different places.

I was finally able to pick up needles around 7 tonight so I started playing back my Tivo'd The Italian Job and worked on Inny. Just over 13" and counting - just about halfway done.

I'm sure this is my fault, too

You'd think I would have a ton of frequent flier miles with the frequency with which I clearly fly to Atlanta to hold a gun to Stick's head, no? She has decided to do a cat bed or two for her kids (and maybe L's) running rampant in Buckhead for the Olympics. I merely suggested it as a possible project. Yvonne has started a Team Cat Bed and Ms. Stick says she signed up for the team. However, I just checked out Yvonne's blog and she says she hasn't heard from anyone. So we'll see what happens.

My extra yarn for Rose and Inny was delivered to work today, but now - as usual - I'm second-guessing my Olympic event. I'm being seduced by Alice from Magknits. I was thinking of doing it in a mossy green and khaki instead. I may swatch the design this weekend with some of the scrap yarn I have leftover from the Blanket Which Shall Not Be Named. It's still two weeks from today so I have plenty of time to decide what I want to do; although I'll have to buy yarn next week if I decide to go with Alice.

Workin' hard...

...or hardly working?

After an incredibly productive morning - rebuilt computer and ordered new backup power sources - I've reverted back to type: blog surfing and instant messaging. I'm just putting off scheduling my sonogram and making my to-do list. Of course, I did manage to knit 15 rows of Banff while waiting for Windows Updates to load - it's the modern-day equivalent to watching paint dry.

I found this while cruising the long list of Knitting Olympic participants and their blogs and stole this from Suzy:

The list of places I've visited in 2005:
[I'm going to forget half the places I went; it's just what I do]

Columbus, OH
Dayton, OH
Philadelphia, PA
Baltimore, MD
Atlanta, GA
Providence, RI
Fenwick Island, DE
wilds of Central PA

Charlotte & Concord, NC

Amish Country & Long Pond, PA

Ft. Lauderdale, FL
Costa Maya, MX*
Ocho Rios, Jamaica*
Georgetown, Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands*
Princess Cays, Bahamas*

[* cruise ports]

Inny, Inny - who can I turn to?

Inny and I have had a fairly tumultuous relationship but I'm finally learning what she needs from me in order to be happy. She doesn't mind sharing my attention but she does want to receive the majority of it. She has no qualms at all about lulling me into a false sense of security before fouling me up with something as basic as a moss stitch. Most importantly, I've learned to work on other projects while watching Lost; I knocked out an inch or so on Kermit. Who says I can't be trained?

I went to KH tonight for late night - either they managed to drink all the wine before we got there or tonight was a dry night. Both are unthinkable. I did manage to knock out a couple of rows of Inny; I've finished about half of the first side so far. I shudder to think of the shoulder shaping, but I'll jump off that bridge when it comes.

This weekend is the holiday party and I'm just not that excited about it. Probably b/c I haven't been out and about in forever, but I could just as soon stay home and watch tv. When I first started knitting, it was to give me something to do with my hands while I was watching tv (so I wouldn't eat). Now I almost feel like I watch tv to have something to do with my eyes while I'm knitting.

Bought my ticket for Atlanta yesterday - all set for St. Patty's/race weekend. I think we're going to go check out the new Georgia Aquarium and maybe go on a tour at Coca-Cola. It probably won't be anywhere near as snazzy as the tour at Guinness, but little would be.

There's something seriously wrong with me

I essentially spent the entire weekend knitting. I alternated between ye olde Inishmore and Kermit, but probably spent more time on Inny. All those knits through the back loop and mini cables and chart reading. And do you know where I made the biggest mistake?

Moss stitch.

I spent an hour fixing a moss stitch mistake. I thought long and hard about just leaving it but I knew it was going to be another of those situations where it was going to drive me bonkers every time I looked at it, so I attacked my work with a dpn, a crochet hook and a Yeungling. It all worked out in the end.

As for Kermit, I clumsily turned the heel and have done a couple of inches along the foot, but it's slow going. I somehow lost a stitch somewhere in the heel-turning portion of our program, going from 70 to 69. I've chosen to ignore it. I'm getting good at it.

So, apparently everyone has a Knitting Olympics project in mind except for moi.
Ketchup Girl - multidirectional scarf
Steph - Zeeby bag or something with her hot pink yarn
Stick - hmmm, she may not have decided yet either
I'm going to need to come up with something soon so I can email the Harlot and figure out if I need to get any yarn/needles.

I am NOT an Enabler!!!

Having said that, the Yarn Harlot has brainstormed the 2006 Knitting Olympics. We all know my rousing success with completing objects so this is either setting myself up for disaster or it's going to provide me with the encouragement and the deadline I need to get my act in gear. Who am I kidding, I'm just doing it for the blog button.

Now, the rub is that I have to come up with a project that I think I have the faintest hope of finishing in 16 days, from Opening Ceremonies to the extinguishing of the flame (which always makes me cry). I could cast on Soliel or Banff or my long-forgotten Booga Bag, or head to the Klubhouse for something new.

*ahem* Since I thought the Knitting Olympics was a clever idea, I forwarded the idea to a couple of friends, just to share information. At least one of these friends has managed to confuse me sharing a tidbit of information with being held at gunpoint and being forced to buy new yarn, needles and patterns and embark on an impossible quest. It must also be noted that aforementioned twisted friend forwarded the idea to two additional people, yet THEIR involvement is also my responsibility. I'm not entirely sure how that works, but I try not to delve too deeply into the inner workings of her mind. It's a scary place.

I don't really have any plans this weekend so it looks like some quality time with Kermit (the sock that's been frogged repeatedly) and Inishmore.

Back to the OR

Unfortunately, Señor Calcetín developed complications overnight and is back in surgery this afternoon.

The good news is, Hogan is doing extremely well on her bolero jacket. Here she is posing with her work so that Stick could send an update.

My allergy to exercise is rearing its ugly head. I strolled over to a friend's house to watch Lost last night and today - Snotfest '06. Joy.

Vegas, baby!

No, I'm not heading to Nevada anytime soon, but Chad & Jimmie are - in more ways than one. In addition to heading to Vegas for testing in two weeks, Chimmie is apparently going to be on an episode of NBC's show, Las Vegas, tentatively scheduled to air the first week of February. Mmmm, Josh Duhamel and Chimmie all in one episode. Good times.

After frogging 3" of Inishmore on Sunday, I cast back on Monday morning and have only gotten about 5" into it. I'm a slow knitter under normal circumstances, but this particular pattern takes me about 20 minutes per row and that's not counting having to undo the odd mistake. Once again, I performed a minor boo-boo while working on Inishmore and trying to catch up on Lost. How long will it take me to learn that the two just don't mix?

I swung by Knit Happens on Saturday afternoon so that M could get a replacement sheep and I could ask my sock mentor about those crazy backwards yarnovers. She said I was doing it right - YAY ME! - but as I was pulling the sock out of my bag to bring to work this a.m., apparently five or so stitches and yarnovers committed wooly suicide and leapt off the needle. If I have any chance of saving it, it will be under the flourescent lighting in my office. Surgery is scheduled for lunchtime.

Checklist part deux

Bears rolling belly-up in their last performance of the season - check
Frogging 3" of Inishmore because somehow it's behaving differently than the test swatch - check
Forget to reset alarm so that I'm woken up at 7:00 a.m. on a day I don't have work - check

I'm cruising right along, no?
And I forgot to mention the American tragedy I witnessed a couple of nights ago. I was channel-surfing latenight on Saturday and noticed that Top Gun was coming on at 1:00 a.m. There are certain movies in the world that I find it difficult to turn off, regardless of the time, regardless of whether or not I own it on DVD - Top Gun is one of them.

So, I flip on over to WGN and settle in, promising myself I'd flip it off after the volleyball scene, thereby giving myself a definite bedtime. I'm cruising along, muttering the lines aloud in the silence of my room, complaining at all of the fun "Edited for Television" omissions that have been made, then we get to the pre-volleyball scene. You know, the one where they're in the classroom and she's advising him on his work ("If I reversed on a hard cross I could immediately go to guns on him...") and she invites him to dinner. Blah blah blah, "It takes a lot more than just fancy flying," she walks away, he smiles, and what is SUPPOSED to happen is he gets up to walk out, Slider mimics the model airplane going down, he mockingly says "Crash and burn, Mav?", Mav leans in, sniffs, says "Slider, you stink!", Slider slyly sniffs his underarms, Sundown laughs at him, Slider slams the model airplane down on the desk and you hear the opening bars of Kenny Loggins' "Playing with the Boys" as we switch the volleyball scene.

What happened was, "It takes a lot more than just fancy flying," end scene, then Mav's driving up to her house on his motorcycle.

EXCUSE ME?!? Now, I'm all for editing for content and even editing for time on television but you do NOT cut the volleyball scene out of Top Gun. Drop a flyby, drop a few seconds out of each dogfight, but the volleyball scene? That's just wrong.

Checklist

Beer - check
Hint of Lime Tostitos - check
Salsa - check
Bears gear - check
Coffee - check
Inishmore - check
Cookies - baking
Bears v. Panthers - kickoff pending

So far, the Seahawks, Steelers and the Broncos are through to their respective conference championship games. Let's go Bears!

I'm debating the wisdom of working on Inishmore while watching a big game and drinking beer, but since when have I done the right thing? And the Panthers have already scored; I don't think passing on the beer is an option. At least it's in my snazzy -immie bottle coozy.

Ketchup Girl RULES!

It's a Sunday and I'm posting from home. AWWW YEAH! M came over Friday night after work (and minor bribery in the form of chips, a swirl and soft tacos at Rio Grande) and after hours of head-scratching and DOS for dummies, we managed to save enough of my critical documents - read pictures and music - to comfortably reinstall Windows and embark on a weekend of software CD plugging.

Knoppix rules and people who create viruses just need to be beaten. That's all I have to say on the matter.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

...while also the title of a Clint Eastwood movie, pretty much sums up my weekend.

The Good: MY YARN ARRIVED!!! All that ceaseless worrying about having to actually complete a project I have on needles was for naught! Lainey's just gonna have to wait til the Inishmore makes me cry;

The Bad: I have got to attack my room. It's out of control. There are bills to be paid and software to be found. And the laundry. Dear God, the laundry; and

The Ugly: The laptop. I have no words for the fear and trepedation that my home computer situation breeds in my soul. Fortunately, Lauren & M may have some software that will make at least file salvage possible before beginning the arduous process of rebuilding the sucker from the ground up.

Wish me luck - on all of the above.

This cannot be happening

So, Tuesday night I noticed my computer was a little squirrely so I decided to do the responsible thing. I toddled off to Staples after work yesterday and bought updated anti-virus software then dashed home to install it. Dropped the CD in the drive, clicked on cdstart, followed the onscreen directions, did the requisite reboot then....SPLAT.

Nothing.

Big pretty wildflower wallpaper and that's all she wrote. Can't access anything. Drives unmapped, extensions disassociated, the whole kit and kaboodle. It really just makes me want to cry. Not to mention kick myself for letting my system go so long without definition updates. There's no anger quite like that which is self-directed.

M had a simlar thing happen to her a couple of months ago so I'll be throwing myself on her mercy this weekend. Hopefully not all will be lost.

The only good news to come out of yesterday was flipping on restrictor plate testing last night and seeing JG and -immie tucked up nose to tail at Daytona. Just made me smile. Can't wait for Daytona. 38 days and counting.

Year of the Sweater

Some time ago I decided I was finally going to try my Inishmore, but I didn't want to undertake a big ol' sweater all by my lonesome so I told all of my little knitting minions that 2006 was to be the Year of the Sweater. Since I get blamed for everyone's activities anyway, I figured I'd just drag them down with me.

Stick, not being remotely obsessive or compulsive, is already done with the back and one front panel of her Bolero Jacket from Debbie Bliss. On the opposite end of the spectrum, M & S haven't even chosen their patterns yet. M is on the verge of narrowing it down between a hoodie, a pullover and a cardigan, and S has some expensive, hot pink yarn that she bought last year and has no idea what she wants to make.

Me, I'm just waiting for my Snickerdoodle to get here so I can start on my Inishmore this weekend. Knit Picks claims it shipped yesterday so hopefully it'll get here by Friday. I didn't shell out for expedited shipping though, so I'm not holding my breath. I can at least show you what my practice swatch looks like. Not too shabby if I say so myself. I haven't decided if doing my sweater in a lighter color than the swatch is good or bad; we'll just have to wait and see.

Da Bears' playoff game is Sunday afternoon. I think VAM and I are going to head to Bailey's to watch it but I may bring my feeble attempt at a sock with me. Although I know the knitting community winces at the notion of taking yarn into a smoky sports bar, the fact that these suckers are going on my feet (which don't exactly smell like roses...all of the time) makes me a little more flexible.

!@$#%^&* Asparagus

Stick is often reduced to helpless giggles after receiving text messages that read, "!#$%*&! asparagus pee!" Somehow I always manage to forget that I've consumed asparagus and am briefly terrified by the thought that something has crawled up inside me and died in order to produce such a rancid odor. Nah, it's just vegetables.

Steph affectionately refers to me as WebGirl, and in an effort to live up to my name, I went about researching asparagus pee this a.m. From The Straight Dope:

Serious scientific research in this field dates back to 1891, when M. Nencki tentatively identified a compound known as methanethiol as the culprit. The odor appears within an hour after eating just a few spears of the offending vegetable.

According to Allison and McWhirter (1956), the ability to produce the odor is controlled by a single autosomal (i.e., non-sex-related) dominant gene. In a sample of 115 persons, 46 were rendered fragrant by asparagus and 63 were not. (This leaves 6 mysteriously unaccounted for. Urology is an inexact science, I guess.)

In 1975 one Robert H. White, then with the chemistry department at the University of California at San Diego, found that the odor-causing chemical was not methanethiol after all.

Instead, using gas chromatography-mass spectrometry (Bob was obviously not one to screw around), he found that the aroma was in fact caused by several S-methyl thioesters, specifically S-methyl thioacrylate and S-methyl 3-(methylthio)thiopropionate.

So, I have a mutant smelly asparagus pee gene.

Awwwww yeah!

Testing at Daytona started today. Watching Speed's condensed coverage now - JG was fastest but Chimmie was right behind him in this morning's practice session; Chimmie was 2nd to B. Elliott in the afternoon session. As usual, -immie deflected the praise to the guys in the engine shop and the rest of the team who worked hard in the off-season. Just love him.

I needed to take a break from knitting. I finally finished the third disk of Lost (season 1) but apparently I got a little too wrapped up in what was going on with Claire and Sawyer and Jack and the rest of the folks from flight 815 that I either dropped a stitch or did something else colossally stupid and now I have to unknit about 250 stitches to try to figure out what's going on.

I'm not amused.

Wine might help.

And I wonder why I'm single

This was yet another fab weekend of putting myself out there into situations where I can't help but meet single young men. Let's see, Friday night started with Jason's going-away party, part 4. We went to Il Mee for Korean BBQ - mmmmm, meat. I thought it was pretty tasty but not everyone was impressed. I definitely ate more than I should have. The curse of the all-you-can-eat buffet.

After din-din, big sis, P and I went to see a late-night showing of Walk the Line. I'm not totally sure what my reaction is. I mean, I liked their performances I guess but maybe I didn't like the direction? I can't quite put my finger on it.

Saturday was just as lame, maybe moreso. A mani-pedi with Melyssa and knitting/movies at her place after. I finished my Hermione - YAY - and did a couple of rows on the Inishmore of doom swatch. Today was more knitting with different friends. I showed my friend Pam the basics of knitting and purling and we watched Must Love Dogs. I just love John Cusack.

Apparently Pete is en route to Afghanistan. He left Mississippi last night, spent some QT in Jersey today and should be over the Atlantic now. Although he and I are barely friends anymore, I'll add him to the list of people serving in our armed forces that I now have to worry about - Lickie, Craig, Bastard and Turtle to name a few. I'm sure there are others serving that I've forgotten but I hope they're looked after as well. I'm just sick of having to worry about it.

I'm watching Dr. No (shocking!) and they just paddled their canoe ashore right next to Dunn's River Falls - hey, I've been there! And here comes the famous shot of Honey Ryder/Ursula Andress coming out of the sea. They haven't shown the pier where our cruise ship docked yet.

I've more or less stopped complaining about my single status and more or less have determined that I'll be single for eternity and have tried to figure out what I can have instead of cats that will still fulfill my spinster requirements. At the same time, I fully acknowledge that I don't do anything to meet people. No personal ads (answering or placing), no letting friends set me up on blind dates, no bar trawling, no taking classes, joining groups or even going out to places were I won't just hang out with the same people all the time.

Even though I fully acknowledge that it's my own personality foibles that keep me locked in this pattern, I don't know what to do about it. Everytime I try to go against my nature to be more outgoing and more personable and more flirtatious I just end up feeling like a fraud and even more uncomfortablein my own skin than I usually am. Who knows.

Living up to the name

It's been pretty hard to live up to the name of this blog lately. NASCAR's in the midst of its brief offseason and I haven't really sat still long enough to do a whole lot of knitting. Whatever delusions I had of accomplishing much knitting over the course of NYE weekend were quickly put to rest - there was Guinness present.

I did work quite a bit on my Hermione the other night and just need to dig out my dpns so I can finish up the crown. Fortunately, D.C. hasn't been particularly cold this winter so I'm not dying without woolen headgear. Next up, I have GOT to work on my Inishmore test. The Inishmore is like my Holy Grail - my Eleanor - of sweaters. I probably shouldn't even waste my time but if I never cast the sucker on, I'll never know. I definitely have to cast it on before the season starts, because I'll never be able to do all that detail work while watching a race. Socks and Banff are good race-day knitting.

Daytona testing starts next week. There will be half-hour snippets on Speed next week, but I haven't decided if I'm going to watch or not. I'll prolly Tivo them and ffwd to see if there are any Chimmie sightings.

The most exciting NASCAR development is that Stick bought our tickets for the Golden Corral 500!!! W'HOO! And that teensy matter of her working her connections to get us pit passes for race day! Now I just have to keep her unbroken through St. Patty's so we'll be ready to play at o'dark-thirty on the 19th. What do you think the chances are that she won't have fun and we won't have to go through another round of, "Jingle, it's all your fault"?

My New Year's Resolution...kinda

My dad and Hallmark inadvertantly provided me with my New Year's resolution in the form of my birthday e-card. Cheesy, but here goes:

Embrace each day
Laugh often
Smile like you mean it
Seek your own style
Think your own way
Dance
Dream
Believe in how strong you are
Trust your gut
Be unique
Be sweet
Be sassy
Be yourself

It's a lot to take on and at LEAST as difficult as "losing weight" or "going to the gym" - quite possibly moreso for me. We'll see what happens.

Happy New Year!

Once again, I need a vacation from my vacation. Lake Anna was big fun with only minimal drama; for the most part, everyone had a blast and we're looking into group rates for Betty Ford or any other detoxing center of our choice.

Things I learned in the last 96 hours:

• None of our brains work the same way and I think that's a good thing - Apples to Apples.
• Nearly everyone cheats at drinking games
• Motley excels at bodily functions
• We all snore
• 40 Year-Old Virgin is way funnier with subtitles on
• None of us could ever chug syrup without becoming violently ill
• For some reason, lying on a dock at o'dark-thirty in the morning is both a good idea and hysterically funny
• After a while, blue tarps, baby oil and kitchen utensils seem like perfectly normal sex-essories
• No trip is complete without hard hats/protective headgear: see testing KEG's protective gear or sliding down the steps headfirst on a cot mattress
• It is possible to laugh your way to tighter abs - my gut is killing me.
• Who needs shenanigans when you've got plastic wrap and aluminum foil?
• We make excellent guinea pigs for Bang and Snatch's wedding presents
• Next year's house needs more furniture and more bedrooms
• Stick really shouldn't shoot tequila. Ever.
• Do it!
• I seriously overestimated the amount of quiet, knitting time I'd have at my disposal (but I did manage to get a little work done on my Hermione)

Is it just me...?

Or do normal people not stay up all night to pack the night before they have to travel to locales far and near? This trip is a little more complicated because I'm cooking and packing kitchen supplies, etc. - I can't believe the mixer broke in the middle of making 'nog! I hope it's drinkable. We'll see tomorrow.

Since I'm already procrastinating, I'll tell you about my birthday. =) S & W schemed a smallish dinner party at W's house for about 15 people or so and I had a GREAT time. Having a birthday that falls in the 'valley of death' as I affectionately refer to it is sometimes difficult to pull off but they did it wonderfully. Frankly, any excuse I have to eat W's cooking is good by me. He, Steve & untold others prepared this asparagus soup with potato and chicken stock and other stuff, handmade summer rolls with shrimp, mini burgers cooked on the grill and finally, the City Ham from Good Eats. It was fabulous!

I got a handful of presents but it was really nice just to have good friends and good food around me as I entered my mid-thirites.

Warm, fuzzy feelings

I love to fly. LOVE it! I wake up at the crack of dawn like a little kid on Christmas morning whenever I have to travel, get to the airport early and am all excited to hop on my plane, buckle my seat belt and let 'er rip. This is largely why this story just makes me laugh instead of freak out.

Tuesday morning, I got to the airport a good two hours early, spent some quality time with my McGriddle and my coffee while waiting for my flight to be called, then boarded my plane with the rest of my Zone 4 posse. We finally get all snuggled in and ready to go and the first officer gets on the horn and does his little song and dance.

"Blah blah blah, Seth is our captain this morning, I'm First Officer Joe and Lindsay will be serving you in the cabin today."*

Whoa whoa whoa! First thought: Dear G-d, 2Lips is in charge of flying the plane. Second thought: I'm all for maintaining a certain professional distance between my flight crew and myself. I don't need to be on a first name basis with them, we're not going out for drinks, I'm not getting them a Christmas present - we can maintain a certain level of mystery in our relationship. Please, you be Captain Jones and First Officer Smith and I'll be your happy passenger. That's all I'm saying.

So, I chuckled to myself (as I so often do) and dozed through Lindsay explaining the safety protocol on our Embraer whatever whatever commuter jet. Although I know it bothers a lot of people, I especially love takeoffs and landings (especially at National; I know - I'm sick). So, we're sitting at the end of the long-ass runway at Port Columbus International Airport and Joe gets back on the microphone to inform us we're first in line for takeoff. Excellent, here we go.

We make the last turn to lineup at the end of the runway and pause momentarily. They do whatever magical pilot sh!t it is they do up front, and the pitch of the engines gets higher and I feel the thrust throw me back into my seat. I grin to myself as the plane starts to roll...

THUD!

For the record, NOT a sound you want to hear during takeoff.

Engines throttle back and we make a lazy left back off the runway.

Here comes our friend Joe: "Well, folks, some of you may have noticed but the cockpit door just fell open. We've got that all taken care of now and we're going to circle back to the end of the runway and we should be up in the air in just a few moments."

Um. The cockpit door fell open? Excellent! I get funny looks from security folks for my knitting needles, but Elmer Fudd and Yosemite Sam can't manage to lock a door.

Feliz cumpleaños a mi

Today's Birthday Dec. 28: It's your year for maverick moves, some of which won't even make sense to you. But you have an idea, and enough faith in it to fall forward - someone will catch you. January brings a historic encounter. Family figures favorably into finances. Investments in February are golden. Wedding bells ring in April. Libra and Scorpio are adoring partners.

WHAT?!?!?

Let's reflect on how very wrong this entire horror-scope is.

• Maverick moves - oh yeah, that's me all over.
• Family figuring in finances? - well, if you count the money I got from my grandmother for my birthday, I suppose that's not entirely cracked.
• Investments in February? Is that when I'm buying my plane ticket to Italy?
• Wedding bells in April? I don't know who they're talking about but it's certainly not moi.
• The only Scorpio I know is Dr. T and the only person he's adoring is S (and I don't even know if she's a Libra), so I'm not sure where they're going with that either.

So, insane horoscope aside, so far it's been a good day. My boss took me to lunch, I got the aforementioned $ from my grandmother (which went straight into the vacation jar), I got the NASCAR pets calendar from Rebecca (Killer and Junior are hanging on my wall as we speak), and I get to hang with friends and food tonight. I'm just hoping they don't break me too badly - I do have to work tomorrow.

Knitting...no, really!

So, I really need to get knitting. I didn't do as much as I'd thought I would over the holidays, despite my whirlwind tour of greater Franklin County in search of accoutrement. There was a situation with the Hermione hat that I didn't get worked out until I was at the airport this a.m. I did some knitting last night on the Inishmore test but I was at the point where I needed to change to a larger needle size and I didn't have it.

Holly was also good enough to give me another (I think I'm up to my third) copy of the sock pattern. I have to figure out what I'm going to take to Lake Anna. I have to take my socks because I'm apparently teaching Stick - LOL, riiiiiiight.

OOH, speaking of Stick (and to add in that hint o' NASCAR) she got us kick-bootie pit passes to the Atlanta race in March! W'HOO! Yet another addition to the Stick ROCKS! encyclopedia.

However, don't believe her if she (or her mug) says she's an innocent bystander. Lies. All lies.

Home again, home again, jiggity jog

U.S. Airways got me home safe and sound about 20 minutes ahead of schedule this a.m. Had to wait almost an hour for Stick's plane to land, but she eventually got here too and we loaded up her rental car and headed to Old Town for lunch at Union Street and a fly-by at Knit Happens. She dropped me off a little while ago and now I'm home procrastinating upending my luggage into the washing machine and attacking my room (the goat) to make it spit out my keys, which disappeared before I flew home.

We had a good visit with Sweetie for Christmas and the day after. I was actually surprised that more family didn't do a fly-by while we were there, but I saw two of my cousins and my uncle while we were there. I still have to mail my aunt and cousin their Xmas presents. I SO don't have my act together.

Somehow over the course of the next couple of days, I have to manage to celebrate my birthday, work two days, use 3 coupons, bake for the trip to the lake, make a new packing list, do laundry, pack...I clearly have no time for this!

Happy Chrismukkah!

With all the napping I've been doing lately, I haven't quite had the time (nor inclination, really) to do any blogging. Ohio has pretty much been the thrill-a-minute it always has been. Thursday passed without incident, just yarn store hopping. Friday was pretty tame for the most part. I met up with Tom, his girl Sandra, her friend Mike and Jon-Jon for drinks at a cool new bar called the Surly Girl Saloon. We had a couple of drinks and some munchies there before I headed home around 2. As usual, my mother started the evening by not only giving me the "Be careful out there" speech, but told me to call home THREE times during the course of the evening. I'm sorry, Ma. I can handle big, bad Washington, DC - I'm pretty sure I've got a handle on Columbus.

By and large the evening was a lot of fun - the only sour spot was at the end of the night when Tom told me I wouldn't be invited to their wedding. First off, they're not engaged yet, but they're on the verge - she was "hoping for hardware" by the new year. But when I was finally able to talk to him when she wasn't around he said he was basically doing it for her and it would probably be super-small - just family. I can respect that, I s'pose, but it still hurt my feelings a smidge. Once more, proof positive that he means more to me than I do to him. Then again, he could've just been getting me back for all my chit-chat about NASCAR, country music and the fact that I don't totally dig France.

We didn't drive down to Dayton 'til this morning. Something about strained sleeping arrangements since my cousin is currently living with my grandmother. A handful of family just left so the house is quieting back down again. I'm sure things will pick back up tomorrow - my uncle is supposed to come back by for sure.

Countdown is on: 36 hours til my flight leaves for D.C.

KnN does Columbus

Well, I got up at o-dark-thirty to stumble to DCA to stand in line in the cold for an hour, only to have to cut in front of a Marine (sorry, sir!) in order to check-in in time to make my flight. It wasn't pretty.

Once I landed in bright and sunny (NOT!) Columbi, I whipped up a batch of eggnog for the 'rents then stole the car keys and dashed off to hunt down the Franklin County LYS's.

Temptations in Dublin, OH was my personal favorite of the three I encountered. Huge house full of yarn and antiques on a snow-covered street. Large table in the front for sitting, probably where classes were taught. I could've snuggled into that place for hours. It would definitely be my LYS of choice if I lived in Columbus.

My next stop was The Yarn Shop over in Kenny Centre. Large and a fair amount of selection but just didn't give me that warm fuzzy vibe.

Third and final venture was to Knitters Mercantile in Graceland. I liked that there was a cozy knitting nook of sofas in the front of the store and the people seemed friendly but the setup of the store itself was kind of odd.

Of course, have to give KM props because they were the only store that had what I was looking for.

And for the NASCAR front, for the first time I saw a white Monte Carlo with red stripes and a big number 8 on the side. Oy.

p.s. For the record - I forgot EVERYTHING. So much for the stinking packing list.

Master plan

Okay, here we go:

- Make 1/2 batch of eggnog while running load of laundry
- Wash hair while laundry's in dryer
- Pay bills
- Sort out knitting
- Start packing

Updates wil be forthcoming...

To Do...

...this should be comical.

• Wash hair
• Laundry
• Pack
• Nog
• Take home Sweetie's presents
• B&N: buy journal
• CVS: batteries
• Pick knitting for trip
• Print out TSA "needles are okay" page
• Pay bills
• Schedule cab
• Forget RMT's present at home

Yeah, we'll see how many of these things I forget to do.

Down with the man!

I'm so annoyed at my insurance company.

My doctor put me on The Pill b/c I was having a teensy-weensy couldn't-stop-bleeding-to-save-my-life issue last month. Groovy, rock and roll, go drugs go, all taken care of. I just went to refill the script before going home for the holidays and the !#$%&^* pharmacy won't do it because insurance won't cover it before the 23rd - which would be fine except my flight's on the 22nd.

So my choices are:
- refill and pay for the whole thing out of pocket (which is no big deal b/c my !#$%&^* insurance company only springs for $1.71 anyway); or
- hold off and refill when I get home and go through the whole Pill song and dance with my parents (assuming, of course, that the pharmacist at home doesn't have a moral objection to refilling my prescription)

I loathe the system.

Not enough hours in the day

It's nearly midnight and I need to get at least a couple more hours of stuff done tonight, but it's just not gonna happen.

Last night M & I went to go see Carbon Leaf at the 9:30 Club. I've lived in D.C. for 12 years and I've been more in the last, oh - 15 months, than I have in the previous decade. Anyway, CL played an acoustic show and it was really excellent. They started off with 5 or 6 unreleased songs that they've written in the last handful of months; my favorites were "Unknown Bride" and "Native America." After that they switched over to tracks from their latest release, "Indian Summer." They played most of my favorite songs - the only one they missed was "When I'm Alone" but it's all good.

Barry - lead singer - is apparently starting to pick up on guitar, which he played for the first several songs. He was noticably more relaxed when he switched off to just vocals. Jordan (bass player) was incredible, as was Carter (electric/acoustic guitar). Loved him. He had a couple of riffs that were just incredible.

However, this wouldn't be a complete recap without noting the idiot in the white shirt who, during the 2nd half of the show would just stand up and start clapping (not on the beat, mind you) and trying to get the crowd into it. Now, I can see how getting the crowd into the show is one thing, but this idiot was standing up and taking bows after each song the band performed. Nice job, dude. M chimes in on Carbon Leaf, too.

Ye olde Xmas trip packing list is nearly done. I'll fine tune it at work tomorrow, but I have to do laundry tomorrow night and do as much packing as I can. That 6:00 a.m. cab pickup on Thursday a.m. is gonna SUCK!

T minus 4 days and counting

Had quite the social whirlwind-y kind of weekend.

Friday was chock full of red wine and hysterical laughter. We got together to plan our weekend at Lake Anna. Not quite as much planning happened as wine drinking, cheese dancing and general frivolity. I love my friends.

Saturday night was the annual Christmas party. It was all I could do to drag myself away from "The Sound of Music" - thank goodness for TiVo - so I finished watching it this afternoon. Anyway, the party was fun for the most part. There was this huge deal made about how it was a holiday party and that jeans and tee shirts were taboo, yet we were expected to stand outside under the rented tent and use the Port-A-Potty. I'm sorry, I'm supposed to wade through the mud in girl-shoes and ankle length velvet then use a Port-A-Potty? I don't think so.

For the most part the party was uneventful. Uncomfy shoes, Francisco the marshmellow/pretzel rod/fruit rollup dude, gorging on meatballs, feeble attempts to recreate Legspreaders and VAM & Steve seranading the living room with 'Do You Hear the People Sing' from Les Miz.

The evening culminated with my typical round of goodbyes and as I was heading over to say g'night to C, M walked up to me and said, "Merry Christmas, J." I never broke stride, but did say Merry Christmas back, and for some reason, he took this as an invitation to try to kiss me.

WHAT?!?!?!? Could he really be that stupid?
The answer is yes.

At first I leaned away and he kept pushing so I finally had to shove him off and yell, "No, M!" I don't understand how he could possibly think that it's okay to break one of my best friends' hearts and think that I'm still going to play nice. I didn't shove him into the firepit but that's about as civil as I'm capable of swinging. Ugh. Moron.

Tomorrow: Carbon Leaf and the long awaited project audit.

Ask not for whom the Casbah rocks...

...it rocks for the 'Quakes no more.

On Monday, August 26, 1996, Steph and I piled into her Mercury Tracer and headed west. She'd had enough of this east coast mumbo-jumbo and decided to head home to CA, albeit to Moraga instead of LA. With 3500 miles to burn, we had lots to talk about: her move back West, my first trip west of Chicago, whether or not she was going to abandon my beloved D.C. United to begin cheering for her new hometown-ish San Jose Clash. She claimed allegiance to DCU but that only lasted as long as our trip to the old Mile-High Stadium (we beat the Rapids 2-1).

I suppose it's only natural. You have to love the one you're with ultimately. Over the years, her attachment to the Clash grew. Her devotion survived their name change from the Clash to the Earthquakes in 2000. She travelled to Columbus for their MLS Cup victory in 2001 and to Secaucus to see them play the MetroStars at some point or another, survived the Carter ratf*cker association, and took my favorite picture ever of Zach (*sigh*) ever in the friendly confines of Spartan Stadium.

Today, their relationship was dealt a blow, perhaps a fatal one. In their infinite wisdom, Major League Soccer has decided to move the 'Quakes from San Jose to Houston. Houston?!? Now, I can't pretend to know all of the politics involved in that maneuver; no doubt the move was motivated by money. In a league where the owners are still losing money every year, it's gotta be more and more difficult to find a place to play the game. But I've been to Spartan and I've sat with the Casbah and I feel for them as a group. I can't imagine what life would be like without D.C. United.

The Clash-Quakes were one of the original 10 MLS teams and the 2nd to go the way of the Dodo (name the first). The first game in the history of the league was played at Spartan Stadium. The first goal ever scored by a Clash forward (poor Jeffy) and the Clash was awarded the first MLS win.

We are the Clash! We are the Clash! We are, we are, we are the Clash!
And they will be missed.

Cookiepalooza

Last night was PIO's annual Xmas cookie party. He's one of the few people that can send out an invitation out 48 hours in advance and still get fifty people to show up.

My big sis and I got there a little bit early and started cooking a batch of pretzel/Hershey's Kisses sandwich thingies. Spread small pretzels on a cookie sheet, place a Kiss upon each one, then put the sheet in the oven for about a minute. As soon as the kiss is suitably softened, take 'em out of the oven, squish another pretzel on top and let cool. I personal prefer the chocolate/peanut butter kisses. Super tasty! Then she whipped up some magic cookies and eventually other people started showing up.

Two of my very-much-least-favorite people showed up not too long into the evening. M walked in first and I was probably the first person he saw. He said hi and I responded with civility. Didn't think bloodshed in PIO's swanky pad was a good idea. Of course, then I had to refill my drink and leave the room before I killed him. L showed up about 20 minutes later and we exchanged similar half-pleasantries. I spent the rest of the evening working in mini-circles to avoid them as much as I could.

Intellectually, I know they have every bit as much a right to be there as I do, but I really am okay with not having to share oxygen with them. As my friend Shannon said, 'running the gauntlet' at a party trying to dodge people just makes socializing not v. much fun. In some ways I'm glad the first encounter is out of the way. We've established that I'm not going to murder them and conveyed that I'm not going to play the "We're still buds, right?" game, so all's well that ends.

Only PIO would own a Billy Bass that sings Christmas carols. It's horrifying. He blames it on the MV White Elephant but I don't believe it.

Blog Envy

I've currently discovered a new blog - see Latest Addiction in sidebar - and it has infused me with yet another case of blog envy.

Now, part of the problem could be that I don't lead anything vaguely resembling a life. I mean, how wittily can one actually write about yarn?

I only have one free night in the next 10 days so hopefully the fates will come up with something entertaining for me to convey to the world.

Don't hold your breath.

Mmmmm...nog

I realized as I was beating the eggs and whipping the cream that it's this particular ritual that marks the beginning of the holiday season to me. The first batch of Sugar's eggnog. The recipe isn't particularly complicated or unusual, but I'm still forbidden by family law to share it so share it I shan't.

I drink the first sip of 'nog the way wine connoisseurs sip a cabernet. The smell right before it hits my lips, the foam settling on my tongue, the sense of the alcohol brushing over the roof off my mouth. Mmmm...nog.

In a lot of ways, the nog is the source of a lot of my holiday memories. My cousin and I used to wake up at all hours Christmas Eve to the sounds of our parents and grandparents laughing uproariously while wrapping presents. My father still remembers the Christmas Eve that my grandfather ran his toy train off the table b/c Sugar had made a particularly strong batch of eggnog.

As I've gotten older - and consequently became legally permitted to consume alcohol and developed the requisite tolerance - I have different memories. Like when my aunt, cousin and I all realized we had different versions of the recipe. My aunt's is probably the most authentic, but I'm so accustomed to my version I'll just stick with it.

As Tanya once said, "Once a year, Just D creates this creamy, frothy, wet, gooey, sticks to your upper lip..."

Misnomers

According to NASCAR's website, the 2006 race season starts in 70 days. I'm not twitchy the way some of my internet friends are (although I did get a phone call waking me up to hear the -immie interview on DC101 this a.m.) - but I do sort of miss having that Sunday activity to look forward to. I guess I'll just have to keep an eye on my 9-3 Chicago Bears.

So, that's my excuse for not discussing NASCAR much - which should leave me plenty of time to knit, right? Well...uh...theoretically.

I STILL haven't finished Jenny's blanket - and beautiful Lorraine was born a week ago. Well, in all fairness, the knitting portion of the blanket is done - it's just the finishing portion of the program that hasn't quite come together. My socks, Banff, Inishmore, top-down cardigan and Soliel are all still on needles. I need to do a more complete project audit tomorrow.

Tonight is my grown-up social outing: dinner at M&S Grill followed up by Les Miz at National Theatre. Ooh la la!

snow days

I spent most of my formative, school-age years in Central Ohio, which averages just under twice as much snowfall annually than my current residence in Northern Virginia. I distinctly remember waking up in the morning after a decent snowfall and watching the school updates scroll across the bottom of the tv screen and then sighing and trudging out the door when informed that Columbus City Schools were open on time.

I know we had the odd snow day, especially if the snow started a couple of hours before sunrise and didn't even pretend it was letting up anytime soon as it got closer and closer to the time when the busses needed to pull out to collect students. I remember thanking every god I'd ever heard of the morning after pulling a near allnighter in high school trying to finish an English paper or college essay or something (procrastination is not a new development in my world). But by and large, snow days were few and far between and we had to have some serious downfall in order to procure one.

Now, maybe I'm just a little bitter because I work with not one, not two, but THREE school teachers and all three of those slackers is home today because we got an inch and a half, MAYBE two inches of snow last night. So far, J's winning the School Day Slacker competition (she had Tuesday off, too!), with S and S2 following up with one day apiece.

Thank goodness for modern medicine

Nothing like 4 birth control pills in 36 hours to b!tchslap the body into submission.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Yesterday was the first quasi-significant snowfall of the year. National Airport registered just under an inch and a half of snow. In typical NOVA fashion, my roommate had the day off since Prince William Co. schools were closed - the other two had to trudge off to work, as did I.

Whereas I'm more than willing to scoff at the amount of D.C. snowfall, it is actually starting to get a little nippy out. Wind chill has been in the upper 20s the last couple of mornings. It's wreaking havoc with my dislike of socks, hats and other cold weather gear.

Guess I'd better go finish my black Hermione hat.

'Tis the Season

Okay, so I found a teensy weensy bit o' holiday spirit. This morning, Elizabeth, Joan, Melyssa and I went to Old Town Alexandria to the annual Scottish Christmas Parade. We piled into M's PT Cruiser and headed south.

After a quick pitstop at Bread & Chocolate for coffee and muffins (and so J could ogle some Scotsmen in their kilts) we headed down to the parade route so we could stake out some territory. Good thing we did! We camped out on our corner and we're just hanging out chatting and people watching and a couple of women and their horde of children came to stand near us. This would've been fine except this little boy next to J decided we were in his way and started pushing at her and huffing about us being in his way. Excuse me? I don't think so, little man. Hrmphf.

With the roar of a dozen police officers on motorcycles, the parade began. I don't remember the order in which they came, nor can I come close to remembering the names of all the Scottish clans that took part in the parade, but I had lots of fun. Checking out all the different tartans (no bright yellow for me, thank you very much) and the oh-so-cute doggie groups. The exchange program between the Westies and the Scotties, the adorable cairn terriers, the lab rescue league, the airedales (just so M could ooh and aah), the Irish deerhounds, the St. Bernards - they were all SO cute.

There were a few different bagpiper groups - only a handful though. J's big comment was that they were mostly older men - who's going to be around to pipe in the next generation.

Anyway, E dashed off to hold a table for us at Pat Troy's and we headed in after we saw Santa arrive on a local fire engine. Coffee with Bailey's, fish and chips and The Unicorn Song - is there a better way to spend a Saturday a.m.?

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

The (airfare) Gods Must Be Crazy

So, I'm pricing out airfare to buy my ticket back to good ol' Columbus for Christmas. So, I do the usual song and dance: Expedia, Travelocity, Independence Air. Then I check out America West - I used to fly them back and forth home back when I first moved to D.C. and they used to have pretty good fares out of National.

$1870.

One thousand eight hundred and seventy U.S. dollars. If I fly out a day earlier it's $2025. WHAT?!?! I keep looking for the fine print. Am I somehow renting the plane? Is it business class for the all of 65 minutes of the flight? Is it a private jet? And it's not even direct! There's a plane change in NYC! Even better, if I fly out of Dulles, it's $4129 with the baffling routing of Dulles to Pittsburgh to NATIONAL to Laguardia to Columbus.

What are these people smoking?!?

Let's see where I can go for less (same dates):
$791 - Paris
$574 - London
$943 - Rome
$950 - St. Petersburg, Russia
$1414 - Rio
$1030 - Athens
$827 - Oslo
$1025 - Reykjavik
$1140 - Madrid

I rest my case. These people are insane.

The final sprint

I always feel like the stretch between Thanksgiving and New Year's is a sprint to the finish. Something to tolerate and muddle my way through. There never seem to be enough hours in the day, I never know what to buy as presents for people for Christmakah/Chrismukkah, I have no idea what I want for myself. It's all just a mess.

I don't know why but it always takes me half of December to wrap my brain around the notion that it's nearly Christmas. There's just so much going on in the 35 days between Thanksgiving and New Year's: Turkey Day, my cousin's birthday, Hanukkah/Chanukah, Christmas, birthday, New Year's Eve and countless other occasions that I'm undoubtedly forgetting.

How do you force yourself to swing into the season? I remember having trouble with this last year, too. Is it shopping? Listening to holiday music? I'm sure getting off my butt and finally buying my plane ticket to Ohio would make things seem a little more real but right now I'm just not buying it.

Any ideas? I need suggestions to get into the spirit of things. Decorating? Holiday music? The lighting of the National Christmas Tree is this Thursday, I think. And the Scottish Christmas Walk is Saturday. Help me!

The first Thanksgiving

I first moved away from home the first week of November, 1993 (best birthday present I ever gave T). I had friends from college whose parents lived in Suburban DC and they were kind enough to invite me into their homes for the holiday.

All week I did my happy food dance. At last, a night without ramen. A night without hotdogs or mac and cheese. Every time a commercial came on with a succulent turkey or steaming mashed potatoes, I'd become nearly light-headed with anticipation.

Finally the day arrived. I took the Metro out to Vienna and my friend P picked me up and took me back to his parents' place. We hung out, played with his new computer and generally caught up until his mother called us for dinner. We started up the stairs (his room was in the basement) and I wrinkled my nose. I didn't smell any turkey but I didn't think anything of it - maybe their kitchen's exhaust system was better than at home.

We all sat around the table, gave thanks and started on salad. Again, not what I was used to. At home, 'Turkey Day' was about a table groaning under the weight of food, me dodging the sweet potatoes/yams/whatever orange veggie it was, and fighting with my dad over the drumstick.

Again, I wasn't too suspicious. Maybe with such a large family instead of setting everything up on the table, they did it buffet style and we would go into the kitchen to load our plates with turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing and all the trimming.

Then his mother brings out a huge platter of pasta.

Alarm bells started going off.

It turns out, P's clan doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving the way I was used to. At all. The pasta and salad were wonderful as I recall, but all I can remember is the devastation of realizing I was going to be turkey free.

[Should P. ever read this, I just want to say that I'm still grateful that I was taken into their home for my first Thanksgiving away from my own. I'm simply saying that I was slightly taken aback at the menu.]

Fast forward a dozen years. I'm a couple of hours away from heading to my friend PP's house. This experience is a whole other can of worms. I went there for Thanksgiving last year and had a wonderful time. It's half family (though not mine) and half friends. A huge table groaning under to weight of way too much food, dogs stealing turkey, babies dropping cheerios (to be hoovered up by the dogs, as well). I can't wait.

Ultimately, I'm thankful for my health (such as it is), my friends, my family, my job, and the fact that there's a James Bond marathon on for the next 4 days. To anyone out there reading, I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday and fare the nasty hoiday travel with ease and patience.

Who wants an orange whip?

I'm so tired but of of my grandma's favorite movies is on and I can't turn it off.

The Blues Brothers.

To this day, I remember watching this movie at the former Raintree Cinema in Columbus, Ohio with my aunt and my cousin (who lived in Chicago at the time). My aunt literally fell out of her chair laughing.

"How much for the little girl?"

It's SO ridiculous, but it's such a great movie. Simply hilarious.

"I hate Illinois Nazis."

It wasn't until I was much older that I realized the fantastic array of blues musical talent that they actually managed to assemble for this movie: Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, James Brown, Cab Calloway, John Lee Hooker.

Time to climb into bed and wait for my favorite quote:
Elwood: It's 106 miles to Chicago, we've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses.
Jake: Hit it.

Danny Turner's Not Gay

Just got home from seeing Bob Saget's stand-up routine at GW. I didn't really have any expectations going into the night but I have to say that some of his stuff was HYSTERICAL. Not everything - there were definitely some eye-rollers and stuff that was a little too offensive - but I had tears streaming down my face on several occasions.

My friend DS is a dead ringer for a young Bob Saget - he's actually the one who motivated us to all get together and go see him. He got in touch with Saget's publicist and told him that his friends thought he looked like BS and wondered if there was anyway he could get to meet him. DS arranged to meet with the publicist before the show and apparently the guy was blown away by the similarity. He told DS that he would find a way to get DS backstage after the show so he could meet Bob S. He even gave DS his cell phone number so he could track him down. So, true to his word, after the show DS gets to go backstage and gets to meet Bob Saget who autographed a poster to him that said "Yo cousin!" or something like that. He was SO giddy.

The rest of this week is going to be just as social. Tomorrow night is pho for dinner, Thursday I get a breather and Friday is fondue with IMF. Saturday night I'm hiding b/c the roommates have once again decided to make plans involving my house without consulting, asking or even mentioning it before sending out the Evite. I'm not their mother and they don't necessarily need to ask me permission but common courtesy would be a nice change of pace.

Next week is Thanksgiving - where in the world did that come from? I think I'm going to do the Josephs' Thanksgiving with dinner with Pete and Pam the night before. I wish I could go to Savannah for turkey day but right after the cruise and right before Xmas, it's just not going to happen. I have to figure out how to buy my ticket home for THAT holiday.

Sweet 16

Sixteen years ago today, probably right about this time, I met one of my best friends in the world. First he was a crush, next abusive demigod, then reluctant buddy, then a distant acquaintance, THEN we finally became friends. [For anyone thinking "When Harry Met Sally", don't!]

I keep trying to figure out exactly what I can say about Tom in a short and sweet entry and there just isn't anything that comes to mind. I used to glibly state that he was "the love of my life and the bane of my existence." I haven't had any romantic feelings for him for well over a decade, but I still don't know what I'd do without him in my life. We never talk on the phone, and I'm lucky if I see him once a year. We email nearly every day - rarely anything serious or specific, just the random flotsam of our day-to-day lives.

He introduced me to one of my best friends, helps keep me relatively grounded, took me to an Ohio State game and listened to me sob my way through heartbreak.

I don't know what, if anything, I bring to his life but I'd be lost without him. Here's to another decade and a half of friendship.

It's been real...

Today is our final day at sea aboard the good ol' Star Princess. We stopped in briefly at Princess Cays - the southern tip of a Bahamian Island owned by Princess Cruises. I did my level best not to pour any additional money into their coffers, but I did have to have one teensy weensy strawberry daquiri to get the day started.

Yesterday was a full day at sea. We had our hash in the afternoon and Boner and Timmy managed to pick up about 20 virgins - all gay boys and women. Shocker. A good time was had by all, or so the story goes. We also had our formal photo taken. We all looked quite snazzy, I must say, and the boys were particularly handsome in their tuxes. Or maybe that's the vodka and tonic talking.

Ocho Rios - I believe - was the day before that and that was awesome. Climbing Dunns River Falls and the catamarran (sp) ride back and forth were so much fun. The anti-freeze disguised as rum punch, notsomuch. We all had to take a bit of a nap after we got back. It was the only way to survive.

All in all it was a pretty good vacation. Beat the pants out of the last cruise, that's for sure. I didn't manage to get in touch with my inner ho and it's something I've been thinking about quite a bit. Not the ho part exactly, but more figuring out what to do with the self-consciousness and the shyness factor. I think for all the times I feel awkward and left out, it's because I put myself in those situations. Hrm, something to think about when I get back home.

Tomorrow's an early morning - breakfast, debark and sprint for the airport. I have a 12:30 flight which should get me home by 3:30. I have last week's race taped and I really want to watch it before I know the result but if I have the opportunity to watch this week's race with scanner, I feel like I need to get my Trackpass money's worth.

I'm rambling. And running up a $.35/minute internet charge. I'm out.

It was the best of times...

...it was the worst of times.

Today was the big day on the ship - we stopped at our first port of call (Costa Maya, Mahajual (?) and it was also Cathy and Kevin's wedding day. First things first.

We got off the ship around 10:30 or so, fought our way through the first level of people seeking to get our hard-earned cash and took a shuttle bus to the TINY fishing village of Mahajual (I know I'm spelling it wrong, I'm going to have to fix it later). We walked the 3/4 mile from one end of the dirt road to the other, enticed and encouraged all the way to stop in and eat/drink/buy/bargain for any and everything. You'd think a single gal walking with 6 guys could've gotten a purchase out of one of 'em but nada - you'd think chivalry was dead or something.

At the end of the dirt road there was this little grass-roofed beachside bar with swings for stools and ice-cold XX. Our friends the Jenns, Pete and Arthur were already there so we decided that was a good enough spot to stay for a while. We spent the entire afternoon - well, until 2:30 - sitting in the crystal clear waters of the lagoon, drinking cold beers, sunburning our noses and laughing about what we'd be doing at work if we were back in D.C.

We scurried back to the ship to nap and change before the 5:30 wedding of C&K up in the Skywalker Lounge. Things got started a little late but Kevin was handsome and Cathy was gorgeous and Captain Nick Nash married them without (or with) a hitch. As soon as they were prounounced, I bolted for my room.

See, the Skywalker Lounge is this immense structure built port to starboard across the top of the ship. It's the 17th or 18th floor and stretches across like the top of a T. We hit some rough weather yesterday and the good ol' Skywalker was shimmying and shaking like there was no tomorrow. Normally I wouldn't say I'm prone to seasickness but I think the combination of a tummyful of Dos Equis, an earlier pitstop at the buffet and the non-stop movement of the Skywalker just pushed me over the edge. Unfortunately I missed a great deal of the reception b/c I was Dramamine-ing in my room, but I did make it back upstairs in time for their couples dance. I wish them all the luck and love in the world.

Short and Sweet

I'm currently somewhere in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, just west of Cuba. Seas are fairly calm and we're chuggin' along at 17 knots or so. We'll hit Costa Maya early tomorrow a.m.

Everyone's onboard safe and sound and there haven't been any seasickness incidents as yet. The whole being-on-a-different-deck-from-everyone else is shaping up about as I expected. I accidentally ran into a couple of people when I made it to the Lido Deck to scarf down some lunch and bumped into the boys on the deck by the Terrace Pool, but other than that, I haven't seen anyone for a couple of hours.

Last night was Cathy's bachelorette party. It went a lot better than Kevin's bachelor party (which wasn't hard to do since Cathy had to escort Kevin to bed from the dining hall around 9ish). We went up to the Skywalker Lounge (which I think is where the wedding is taking place, too) and danced for a few hours before the 12 hours of drinking finally caught up with us and we started dropping off one by one. I think she had a good time, but I'm fairly certain we killed her with the lemon drops.

Well, I'm off to take a stroll around the Promenade Deck. It's about 82 and sunny hear so I should take advantage of it.

Screw the list

I'm so tired I don't care what I forgot to pack. My suitcase is wicked overpacked. I'm not quite sure where my contacts are. My taxi will be here in 6 hours. I still don't have a place to stay in Ft. Lauderdale. I'll probably be better off going to sleep now and dealing with the last minute stuff in the morning.

I probably should've gotten my pedicure earlier in the day and blowing of Knit'n'Nosh but I caved in to Holly and Pamela on the peer pressure front.

Contrary to how this may sound, I am really excited about this trip. OH! I forgot to mention that I may get to see two friends from college in Grand Cayman! They happen to be going on vacation the same time we're docked there so I'm going to try to meet them for lunch. I think that should definitely make the "It's a small world" hall of fame. Most everyone that I know is going scuba diving that day so I'm really glad to have something else to do. I'd like to go to Stingray City, too. We'll see how much time I have left.

Please oh please let my pre-vacation adrenaline help get me out of bed tomorrow.

So tomorrow a.m. at o'dark-thirty I'm hopping on a plane to Ft. Lauderdale and then we're spending a day there running around - I'm not sure if we're all getting together or not - then Sunday afternoon we head to the port. W'hoo!

And, according to our good friends at the National Hurricane Center, "There are no tropical cyclones in the Atlantic at this time."

W'HOO!

Love, exciting and new...come aboard...we're expecting you!