The other me

I'm closing in on 100 posts folks. Pretty soon I'll have time to blog more regularly. For now, I just wanted to punch out some thoughts so that my head is clear enough to get another great 10 hours of sleep. I love having a weekend to myself. It's amazing for morale.

Post topic: Tonight I saw The Proposal. It was essentially what the critics said: recycled movie ideas, but decent enough if romantic comedy is your cup of tea. There were things about it that I didn't love. But that's not the point. The point is, a scene in the movie has my "nostalgia for the future" cranking at a fast pace. They are talking as they fall asleep and Margaret starts listing off things about herself that Andrew doesn't know. Things that being an executive assistant wouldn't tell you about a person's life and past. Things that a fiance should know. And I wanted to have that conversation with somebody. It's why I like changing my facebook profile, to be able to say a little extra something about me and what makes me who I am. I was already talking with Coco tonight about things that only people very close to me know, so I'm gonna lay some of it out for the purposes of not having my mind running through this potential future conversation while I'm trying to go to sleep. That was a long explanation for a post topic, but here goes:

I get goosebumps when other people chew ice, ice cream, popsicles, anything. I can't watch it or hear it or think about it. I just got goosebumps right now. I put my pants on left leg first. When I was little I wanted to be an architect, a jockey, a marine biologist, and a cowgirl. Well, I still want to be a cowgirl. The first book I remember reading is The Pup Went Up. When Laura and I had bunk beds, if I couldn't sleep, sometimes I would toss and turn to make the bed squeak so she would wake up and talk to me. I was devastated when my dad ran over my tricycle wheel with his car. Even though I think smoking is disgusting, I used to love candy cigarettes because I still felt cool pretending to smoke. I like playing ping pong with people I don't know because they are always surprised that I can hold my own. I love wearing soccer cleats because it makes me feel like I am a better soccer player than I actually am. My favorite ice cream is Vanilla Swiss Almond. I have never had a manicure or pedicure. I don't have any good scar stories because the scar on my eyebrow from a head-first dive into the coffee table faded a long time ago. Mia Hamm signed my cast when I broke my leg and Julie Foudy thinks that my leg was broken because my brother fell on it. I've been swimming with sharks--no cage. I wish that more people understood my job. I'm a bad driver. I like to walk around when I brush my teeth. I am a closet Hanson fan, which I guess now just makes me a Hanson fan. The first time I dyed my hair, I was too much of a sissy to go bold and in the end, you couldn't even tell the difference. I have no food allergies, but I might as well be allergic to olives. I used to dance around the living room with the four-foot-tall inflatable Santa and pretend I was at my wedding. Sometimes I drink coffee without sweetener just to prove I like it (which I do, I just prefer Splenda). I like the way my handwriting looks when I use a fine-point Sharpie. I once tried to tie-dye a pair of canvas shoes.

Alright. I've tried to stay away from the easy things. My favorite song is Come Monday. My favorite color is purple. I hate my hair and my toes. I can't wink or whistle. And now I'm out of ideas and I'm tired. Which I suppose was sort of the point. Good night.

The Perfect Day

No, I have not just finished the perfect day. I wish. What I did do today was experience enough glimpses of the perfect day to get me thinking about it. Of course, I took the day off, and in any sane universe, the perfect day would not involve work. At least not of the job kind. Nobody loves their job that much. Except maybe a rodeo cowboy or a rock star, but even they like to relax. I'm not going to put times on my perfect day events, because that implies that everything has to go according to plan, which of course would not be the case. Let's also assume that any location constraints are gone so that I could theoretically not have to worry about driving from Red Rocks to Silverthorne to Centennial. I imagine here is how my day would go:

Wake up after a long, restful night's sleep, no alarm. Maybe a dog licking my face or the sun hitting my pillow. Relaxing shower, and put on my favorite spring/summer outfit. Go to Mass and see old friends. Enjoy the sensation of feeling very at home in the Catholic Church. Accompany said friends to a cute little coffee shop with a patio and soak in the morning sun while sipping on a perfect insert favorite-coffee-drink-of-the-moment here. Reminisce about fond memories and hopeful futures.

The later part of the morning is always the toughest for me to fill when I imagine my perfect day. I would like to think I would be outside. I suppose whatever activity of the day occurs to me would be fine. Options may include a trip to the Botanical Gardens, an outdoor art show, a short but beautiful hike (remember, location doesn't matter), a zoo outing, planting flowers, a leisurely bike ride around the park, etc. If I'm outside and with friends, it's good enough for me.

Lunch of course would be a bug-free picnic, if those exist. Mostly because again, I'm trying to be outside, and also I love picnic food. Simple sandwiches, fresh fruit, maybe a cookie. Okay, definitely a cookie. We could throw a football or a frisbee or a softball. Lovely.

After all that outdoor time, I think I'm ready for either a nap or a movie or a good book. Part of me thinks I shouldn't waste my perfect day inside on a couch. But the other part of me says that I love sitting inside on the couch. Especially if I have no other obligations. I love watching movies and laughing along with my favorite lines or waiting in suspense for the next scene of a movie I haven't seen. I love the escape of books. You all know that. And I love sleeping. So, none of the above are really a waste.

Dinner would be grilling out on the back deck. Burgers or brats or chicken, and of course, corn on the cob. Lots of friends and family. A couple games of corn toss and ladder golf. Lots of laughing. And watching the sun set over the mountains. Who knows what the night time activity would bring. Maybe some cards. Maybe just more lounging in the back yard. Maybe a game of ultimate frisbee on the golf course. Or a walk around the neighborhood. Or another movie or book.

Okay, in looking back over this, I didn't experience any of this today. Except when I was at the park walking around, I saw a family playing corn toss in their backyard and laughing and drinking beer. It looked like the perfect way to end a summer day. Except it was only about 3:30 in the afternoon. Don't you people have jobs? (Says the girl who took the day off.)

That's all I've got. I think I'm gonna go start cooking dinner. I have chicken and tomatoes and a pepper and no clue what to do with them. We'll figure something out.

King George

After an entertaining (though not chart-topping) season premiere of Wipeout, complete with a disappointing finish in which Francisco "Suave" Garcia was outmatched by "Cheap Date" (whose name I can't remember), I was in good spirits as I sat down to work on my manuscript and surrepticiously follow the Nuggets game online. I made it through about a paragraph when I realized that I would need some background noise. Knowing my computer's tendency to freeze if it works too hard, I flipped the TV back on. Imagine my delight to find the perfect background noise, the second half of a country music extravaganza George Strait tribute. While the first hour must have had some of my faves performing, most notably Sugarland (darn!), I still got to see/hear wonderful performances from Martina, LeAnn, LeAnn, and Dierks. On a side note, I decided I do like Dierks Bentley. I was waffling because something about some of his photos look a little off (don't get me wrong, I love his music), but after tonight, I'm a fan.

I have this to say about George Strait. He really is King George. I didn't know I was a George Strait fan until tonight. I mean, his two latest hits (I Saw God Today and Troubadour) have polarized me. The former makes me alternately smile and cry and the latter makes me change the station. And so I always heard about George's 50 (yes, 50) #1 hits which actually probably number at 52 or 53 now, and thought that they must have come before my time or been part of a long-gone era of country music. People talk about him being a first-rate story teller, an icon, a legend. And I couldn't jump on the bandwagon. However, this was before I realized that he sang:

Love Without End, Amen
Check Yes or No
Easy Come, Easy Go
Ocean Front Property (love it!)
She'll Leave You With a Smile
Write This Down
Carrying Your Love With Me
You Look So Good In Love
Blue Clear Sky (also love it!)

They are country classics that I always sang along to but never connected with a single artist. Some are fun, some are ballads, some are a little twangy, but I like them all. And I just remembered as I'm writing this that George also sings Give It Away which I think is a haunting melody on the same level as Will Hoge's Dirty Little War as a chronicle of the heartbreak of divorce.

And of course, encompassing all of my feelings about the show tonight is an overwhelming reminder of why I love country music. It's the stories, the cowboy hats, the boot tapping, the being in love, falling in love, dreaming of love, that isn't quite the same in other genres. Yes ma'am, ladies love country boys.


And on a far more random sidenote, I am appalled that the last two days, I've only averaged about 5,000 steps with my new pedometer. Curse the sedentary lifestyle of the outpatient clinic!

Rocky Mountain High Time I Went Home (Before and After is my favorite Wheel of Fortune category)

I wish I had something witty to write. Wet wit, damp if you will, not dry wit. But I don't. Because my mind is pretty much on one thing. Can't wait to go home, can't wait to go home. Seriously, maybe I'm a little bit extra sentimental and emotional after watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition last night (for the first time in probably two years), or maybe it's just that I haven't been home in over four months which has to be a record for me. But I'm dying for that Colorado sunshine, the mountains, the lack of bugs, the Nutmeg, the mom hugs, the dad spoiling me, the Kelly begging me to do something, anything, 'cause she's bored. And Laura of course, who I haven't seen since Christmas. The red recliner. The deck sunsets. The basketball bouncing off the roof because I haven't played in way too long. Seeing old friends at Mass. Waking up in the morning and knowing that the only thing waiting for me is relaxation and a newspaper. Sharing Firefly with my family. Eating good food that I didn't have to cook. No noisy upstairs neighbors with cement shoes. Or at least knowing my noisy upstairs neighbors and feeling completely confident that their sleep schedules mirror my own. Except for that pesky Mary who is a little bit of a wildcard. Just realized I forgot to mention her above. I'm not used to being home at the same time I guess.

Now if only the next three days would fly.

I aim to misbehave

Okay, so anyone who has talked to me in the last two weeks knows that I'm completely obsessed with the TV series Firefly, a gem of Joss Whedon's fantastical imagination that I've discovered a few years too late. I've been trying to determine what it is about the show that has me so completely enamored. It's very comparable to a year or so ago when I experienced my first Chuck "sandwich," the final two episodes of Season 1 courtesy of Kelly. Or five years ago when I watched the Season 2 finale of Alias. Or my immediate head-over-heels fascination with Women's Murder Club. What is it about these fictional worlds that causes me to ignore sleep, give less than my best at work, opt against exercise or edifying behaviors, and become so immersed in TV?

Part of it is the escape. That's a no-brainer. I love having a world to escape to that is so different from my own-- the world of spies and intrique and suspense and heroism, and most recently, space cowboys. It's just enough of a fantasy to take my mind off the stress of real life.

Part of it is the novelty. With Firefly, it's there in abundance. New slang: shiny!, gorram, corpsified, etc. Cussing in Chinese (which is hysterical). New technology and cultural norms. New characters to champion or crush on or laugh at.

Part of it is Joss Whedon brilliance. In a small way, it reminds me of the first couple seasons of Buffy. The humor is so quick, written so that it requires perfect delivery, but when the actors get it right, they hit it out of the park. "Oh, it's grotesque! Oh, look, something in a jar." "Why, is there someone you are good at talking to?" "'They were cynical, not responding, and we couldn't bring them back'...'No, they were cyanotic, unresponsive, and we were unable to resuscitate them.'" I love how he's able to make it sound like they have developed a whole new language, 500 years in the future, and yet it feels so fresh and current.

Part of it is the character development. And how much they can get me to care about these browncoat rebels after only 14 episodes. Well, really I was hooked after the first two, but who's counting. Part of it is the action. I am my father's daughter after all. Because of the creativity of blending Western and Sci-Fi, we get sword fights, lasers, revolvers, machine guns. It's not that I like violence. More that I like vicariously-experienced adrenaline rushes. I could probably do without the Reavers, but every hero needs a creepy villain, right?

I can't explain it beyond that. But y'all should go watch it. And then we can talk about our favorite moments, quotes, characters, heists, Jayne's awesome hat, Simon's "cryo" way with the ladies, and on and on. You call, we'll chat.

Why it's sometimes okay to talk to strangers on the plane:

On my way to Orlando in December, I sat next to a guy who was going to Columbia. When he told me this, I assumed South Carolina. He meant the country. Anyway, we got to talking about hiking/backpacking and other outdoorsy stuff. And he told me about this deal they have a Backwoods (a sort of small-time outdoor outfitters store), like a birthday club. Buy something at the store to get on their mailing list, and for your birthday you get a free gift. This isn't like a free two-dollar bandanna. No siree. Behold my first birthday gift of the year:


Very cool. (And a $49 value, in case you were wondering.)

Why I love soccer

Yes, I am at work, and yes, the last thing I need to be doing when I've been as stressed out as I have been is surf the net. But I thought I had a meeting that had actually been cancelled, so it gave me a little unexpected time. I just wanted to share what I found. Really awesome photos.

Here are a couple favorites. Unfortunately they still have a watermark on them. But still pretty sweet.