Livestream of Consciousness

This morning I woke at 7 AM to the muffled sound of a recorded message on an answering machine. The machine wasn’t mine. I could hear the names being recited, though: if you’d like to leave a message for her, press 1, for him, press 2, etc.

This puzzled me, but as I am wont to do early in the morning, I decided it was my neighbor’s machine through the wall.

Until I realized I recognized the names that were being recited, and I knew wasn’t my neighbor – it was the agency I’d phoned yesterday.

I jumped up, thinking I was insane, and began searching for the source of the sounds. I found my cell phone in the bed—I had been lying on it—and the phone itself had placed a call to said agency. I pressed a bunch of buttons but couldn’t get it to hang up. Closed and reopened it—nothing. (Although I was still fuzzy-headed at this point and I have no idea if this was the phone or my brain’s problem.)

I finally got the call to end, and I checked my “Calls Made” list. Every single one of the 20 recent calls made was to that agency phone number. Thank God it was early enough that they weren’t in the office. I really, really hope they don’t have caller ID.

*

One of my Facebook friends referred to “Baby It’s Cold Outside” as the date-rape song. My first reaction was “oh, stop, it’s not about date rape” because I thought it was just about a boy trying to persuade a girl not to leave his house. But today when I heard it on the radio I listened to the lyrics, and I really think you can make the case that it IS a date-rape song. “What’s in this drink?” the girl asks at one point. Roofies, honey.

*

I am declaring that I like sausage. (Get your minds out of the gutter. I’m talking about the actual product.) It was always something I thought I shouldn’t like, because basically it’s just scraps of pig ground up together and stuffed in a casing—gross, right? Well, it can be. BUT . . . good sausage is actually really tasty and awesome. So, I love sausage. Deal with it.

*

I’m burning through my Battlestar Galactica discs at a rapid pace. I rent 5 discs at the video store and finish them in a matter of three or four days. I really, really love this show—but not the spiritual, dreamy Cylon/God/gods crap. I don’t care about that. I like the relationships on the Galactica, the political intrigue, the questions about torture, choices, military action, and (occasionally) some space battles. Really, I would be happy if most of the episodes were just relationship eps. I just noticed in an upcoming one that a character will be dealing with his failed marriage, and that’s the kind of thing that sends thrills through me. Dealings with failed marriages! Hooray!

I think I’m getting old, because I find myself rooting for middle-aged hookups. Of course the hot young people with the sexual chemistry should get together, and of course they will. But what about the older people? They need love and companionship, too! They’re friends who care about each other! They’re both single! Why aren’t they together?! The scenes won’t be the same; there won’t be any blue-lit shots of smooth skin and limbs entwined, because no one wants to see 50-year-old skin, but still. Make it happen, writers. (When the writers don’t write the stories I want them to, I make up new stories in my head when going on walks. I can’t rest until the characters are doing what I think they should do . . . and I'm actually kind of good at calling it. Basically what I thought should happen DID happen in an episode last night. Good times.)

Anyway, if you’re not watching BSG, you should be. That’s the lesson here.

Do you need some time. On your own.

The days just fly by and I forget to blog!

Not really. I think about it and then I don’t do it, that’s the real problem.

Anyway, Halloween came and went, and I didn’t do any of the dressing up I’d planned, not even a good bible character. I did go to the church party, however, and was very impressed by everyone’s costumes. Also, we had to act out skits as part of the fun, and two different groups chose the story of Elisha and the kids and the bears, which is a gruesome story, but super fun to act out. Hey, at least we can have fun with Old Testament horror.

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My current obsession is Battlestar Galactica. I am, as one of my co-workers said, the “Michael Phelps of DVD watching” and that is true. But mostly because I become obsessed and stay up too late and watch nothing but episode after episode. In a week I’ve finished Season 1 and moved on to Season 2. And I was just reading an article online (completely unrelated to BSG) where someone had posted a list of names in the comment section. I passed over that comment without really paying attention, but then I noticed that someone in the same thread was like “OMG BSG spoiler” and I realized that the list of names WAS related to BSG and also probably was a spoiler. I closed the window quickly, but you can’t un-see that! I actually wish the second commenter hadn’t pointed it out.

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The heat is not on in my house yet! It’s a holiday miracle! After a freezing cold October, November really warmed up and thus I haven’t had to turn the heat on, nor has it turned ITSELF on. If I can make it to Thanksgiving, that will be amazing.

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I have to do a lot of phone call interviews for work these days, and it blows. I hate hate hate the phone and everything about phone calls—unless it’s to people I know very well—and even then I’m just as happy with email and texts and IMs. So I’m stalling on the phone interviews bigtime, but I can’t put it off forever. The dreading is actually worse than the calling, so I should just bite the bullet and deal.

Open the Wells

So, remember what you were doing last year at this time?

I was sitting at work (old job) trying not to freak out about the election that was happening. I had already voted, but was nervously reading what I could on the internet and thinking about my nighttime plans. I went home in the dark and looked at exit polls until it was time to go watch the returns with my friends.

I also nearly got into a loud argument with my friend’s boyfriend’s sister about whether the Iraq war was the cause of the economic collapse (which it SO wasn’t, I’m sorry. I hate the war, but I also can’t put up with biased stupidity, be it liberal or conservative). I did back off, because I realized it wasn't going anywhere good. Plus we were both guests in someone else's home. But I was right.

*

Speaking of biased stupidity, I had to hide a Facebook friend the other day because she was posting crap. I don’t like hiding Facebook friends, but I do it for the sake of my blood pressure. I do hate political arguments on Facebook, but I also hate misinformation, so I want to go on there and correct it – and that LEADS to political arguments. Vicious cycle.

I intend to send a letter to Facebook requesting the ability to hide status updates based on words contained therein.

For example: Hide all posts from [Name of friend] containing the word [Palin] or [Obama]

*

I think I should write a novel this month, since it’s National Novel Writing Month. If I start tomorrow, I only have to write 2000 words a day, which should be too hard, right? I have an idea, but fleshing it out is the hard part.

*

I’m listening to hymns as I type this and enjoying it immensely. My birth plan, should I ever have a child, is to go into a dark room and be completely alone. I used to say this as a joke, but now I take it more seriously because a) I realized that’s a legitimate response and birth plan, and b) I really, really like being left alone when I am in pain. But I would listen to hymns.

*

Last night I put on The Biggest Loser and saw them doing their weigh-in on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Congrats, Lincoln, you saved the Union at the cost of 620,000 lives . . . so the morbidly obese could weigh themselves in Washington, D.C. The people who produce that show must take themselves awfully seriously, is all I’m saying.

*

If the Yankees are going to win this World Series, they need to do it tonight. There’s no reason to have a Game 7 and mess up my Thursday evening TV plans if the Phillies are going to lose.

Oh, oh, oh October

I guess I haven’t blogged in awhile. It’s fall now, full on, and this weirdly cold weather is going to test my ability to keep the heat off until November 5 (my date for all things furnace related). I actually saw snow in PA this past weekend – in OCTOBER. Granted it was on a mountain, but still, it’s way too early for these sorts of things.

Facebook is so weird. This week I’ve noticed three odd connections between people that I know, and who also know each other – but I had no idea that they did. Worlds collide! Of course, this is mostly in Lancaster, world’s most incestuous county—or in Mennonite-ville, world’s most incestuous denomination . . . but still! (I mean “incestuous” in the most affectionate of ways).

Crazy parties coming up in the next two weekends. Halloween! I need costumes! For my party on the 31st, I need a bible costume. This is a very “Christian culture” thing to do, but our church is having a barn party and we need to come dressed as a biblical character. I have a couple of ideas I’m tossing around in my head, both of them very untraditional. I’m not going as Esther or Ruth or Mary, that’s for sure. Perhaps I will post a picture when I have one. And if you have creative suggestions, let me know.

Since it is mid-October, I am invested in baseball. I really pay no attention to baseball until the pennant races, which is lame-o, but I don’t CARE until then. So yesterday I watched the Angels win with a walkoff run, and then the Phillies do the same thing. Exciting! But since I don’t have TBS, I had to watch the Phillies on ESPN’s Gamecast, which is this electronic thing where players are represented by dots and you watch the dots pitch to each other. It’s kind of like a really old video game. ANYWAY, it’s not as exciting to see Jimmie Rollins hit the game-winning run when you watch on Gamecast, so I had to make my own cheers and applause at home.

A Cricket Near Penn Square

I came to Barnes and Noble to work and kill some time this afternoon – it’s interesting to see what people are up to in the middle of the day. It’s been a weird week for working – on Wednesday I bailed altogether and went to Delaware with my cousins. But this is one of the perks of working remotely; I’ve got to get my social interaction SOMEHOW.

There’s a girl sitting near me who looks like she’s about twelve, although she might be older or younger. I can only WISH we’d had a Barnes and Noble when I was 12—I would’ve been there every weekend for a sugary drink and BOOKS! As it is now, I come to the big chain bookstores now to read the books I don’t want to wait for at the library—usually 3 or 4 hours and I’m all finished and happy. But I think of all the times I spent waiting to either buy or borrow books back when I was 14, and it makes me sad. I could’ve had such good afternoons at B&N!

My house is overrun by crickets. I’ve killed one in the kitchen and one in my bedroom. I’ve seen one in the basement that I didn’t bother to kill. And then last night, when the lights were off and the computer was on, a freaking cricket hopped across my laptop. Hopped slowly, not jumped, which is good. Had it come flying out of nowhere onto my laptop, I probably would’ve screamed. And then I couldn’t find it to kill it. I don’t love killing bugs, but I draw the line when they show up in my bed.

As far as bug infestations go, crickets aren’t the worst. (Although there is one currently in my kitchen tweeting away that needs to die. Talk about annoying.) But the thing is, I really hate the hopping things. They’re just so unpredictable – they could be in your hair or your mouth or up your pant leg at any moment! – and that’s what makes me crazy. Mice, too, because they can run so fast. Give me roaches and stink bugs and snakes and even spiders any day. While they can run and slither, they don’t seem so uncontrollable.

This is the first year I’ve ever seen crickets in my house, though, and it’s very strange. Where are they coming from—and why?

Okay, back to work. I need to go research baby boomer marketing strategies.

Scraps of happy

I use my blog mainly for ranting these days, and believe me, there is no end to the stuff I could go on and on about that drives me insane.

BUT!

I am not going to do that today. Good stuff is everywhere.

My cousin had a baby on Saturday (honorary nephew!) and his name is Jack and he is chunky and cute and healthy, so that’s awesome. Mad Men season 3 is underway and I’m enjoying it immensely. I DID get a new camera, so I can take pictures of the new baby. I’m in the process of painting and doing some general home improvement stuff that’s making me happy. Plus, youtube has videos on how to caulk a bathtub – score! (Honestly, what did we do before the internet?)

Mike came down to work in my office today, so I have a co-worker (very temporarily) and it’s a little bit like the olden days. Good times. Also the weather is perfect and we walked to Wawa for lunch.

I’m reading Fred Clark’s Slacktivist takedown of the Left Behind series, which is full of complete and utter WIN. He’s systematically destroying the books page by page with some pretty heavy and awesome snark AND Jesus-based theology (my favorite combo!). This is taking a long time to read, because he writes 3,000 words for every 2 pages of book (so after 6 years, he’s only on book 2 of the series.) But I’m still loving it.

And I have a Labor Day pool party to go to, and a wedding in a few weeks, and the new Gabaldon book comes out on September 22. There hasn’t been a new one of those since before I started this blog. So it’s about time.

Normally I despise the month of August, but this year it was actually pretty great. And September should be, too, I think. The rest of this year is looking stellar, as a matter of fact—at least until the question of What to Do for Christmas must be faced. It’s an odd-numbered year, which means married sibs and cousins are with the in-laws and it may just be me and my parents sitting around and staring at each other, which is depressing. So let’s push that thought off for another day.

Hooray for late summer!

Summer doldrums

I’m trying to blog once a week, but sometimes there just isn’t much to say, ya know?

Since I left the old job, I don’t have a lot of good co-worker stories (mostly because I have no co-workers) and drama is pretty much non-existent. I come to my office, do some work, eat some stuff, IM some people, etc.

Earlier this week I helped out with the family of multiples that I sometimes go visit. The kids are now two, and they change every time I see them, stretching out and looking more like kids than babies. We took them out (the first time I’ve gone out with them) to the park and the mall play area, and it was insanity. Three adults barely had a handle on the situation. Multiple toddlers, going multiple directions, in the middle of a mall? Their mom is brave. But they are still amazingly adorable and learning so much. Toddlerhood is exhausting, but fascinating.

Yesterday I ate two bananas, some cantaloupe, watermelon, blueberries, and tomatoes. Yeah, summer!

I want Mad Men to start again. I want a new camera. I want to take a long vacation.

Summer songs

Oh, blah. Back to the real world after living and thinking like a communist (the good kind) for a week. It’s so easy to think about changing your life when you’re not actually LIVING it.

I think we can all agree that the Michael Jackson death coverage has been over the top. I haven’t heard anyone say it hasn’t been, which makes me wonder: is there a whole group of people who think that the hours and hours devoted to this have been worth it? Or is the media simply trapped in a hell of its own making? (And I know, I know, writing about it makes me part of the problem!)

Anyway, I did livestream the funeral while I was working yesterday. (PART OF THE PROBLEM!) It was quite a spectacle, although apparently less than many expected. Most of it was kind of lame, and that congresswoman was the worst. Blech. The only thing that seemed remotely real was MJ’s daughter speaking at the very end. Or as one internet commentator put it: “ . . . hours of pageantry and self-promotion culminating in one genuinely devastating moment.” Seriously, the ceremony was over 3 hours long!

(P.S. Go watch the video on YouTube of "We are the World" for some awesome 80s cheese. Am I old because I recognize almost everyone in that video - and in modern-day videos of group singing I only recognize about half of the celebs?)

But no more about that, and I’m certainly not going to add to the media sensation that is one Alaskan soon-to-be-ex-governor by writing about her, either. Although let me just say that if I were to write something negative, it would NOT be because I can’t stand her because I’m a feminist and she’s a “real woman.” Apparently, according to her fans, that’s the reason many liberal women don’t like this person—because she does “womanly” things so well. (!!!)

There are times when I think the cultural divide in this country is too big to ever be crossed.

So I’m back from my working vacation, and now I’m settling in here for the rest of the summer. Still, not without its excitement, including Les Mis in Lancaster this Friday, baby shower for my soon-to-be-born “nephew,” Harry Potter premiere next week, and hopefully other excitement yet to come. And that doesn’t even take into account the month of September, which has highlights of its own.

I think the fact that this summer is so pleasant, weather-wise, is also keeping me in a good mood. I’ve said before that I don’t like the depth of winter nor the height of summer (why is winter deep and summer high?). The extremes of cold or heat bother me, and seem so unchanging--a permanent rut. But not so far this summer--every day just seems like another day on the verge of a change—that’s how I like my weather.

Now we just need some violent thunderstorms for a little excitement!

NimbleNews

I don’t have anything interesting to write about today (do I ever, though, really?), so I’m just going to highlight some of the more wacked-out stories floating around the news. I feel like if you don't read internet news, you miss the good stuff! So, just in case you missed it . . .

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Richard Nixon’s comments on abortion: "There are times when an abortion is necessary. I know that. When you have a black and a white," he told an aide, before adding, "Or a rape." That man was just the king of sensitivity, wasn’t he? Stay classy, Dick.

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The governor of South Carolina disappeared for several days and has now reappeared. His staff told everyone he was “hiking the Appalachian Trail,” but it turns out he was actually in ARGENTINA. For a fun getaway, while his wife and kids hung out at the beach back in SC. He didn’t tell anyone where he was, and no one was really in charge during his absence. The Democrats smell blood in the water and are eating this story up (as are his Republican enemies, of which he seems to have many); I don’t care about that, though, I like it because it’s just kind of wacko. I also like the idea that “hiking the Appalachian Trail” could become a euphemism for untoward activities. So could “going to Argentina,” I suppose.

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Lancaster, PA: the most watched city in the country! Keith Olbermann, the Drudge Report, etc. have all picked this story up and apparently it’s gotten all kinds of reactions from the public, including a song, and a letter from a woman claiming she will never come here now.

I feel bad that I haven’t paid more attention to this—that I only had a vague idea this was happening. Our local newspaper finally got around to writing about the L.A. Times writing about Lancaster, and the general feeling on the newspaper comment boards (which are a nightmare, BTW) is that anyone who objects to this should quit being paranoid, because if you don’t have anything to hide, why do you care? It’s times like this when I’m almost tempted to register a name and start posting on those boards. The funny thing is, most of the people on the boards who are conservative and post conservative talking points regularly are the ones that are fine with this--talk about government intrusion!

Here’s the thing: I don’t really mind the cameras today, at this moment, but I’ve read enough dystopian books and watched enough movies to know that government surveillance is not a good thing. Authorities aren’t always the “good guys” –and if you think they are, well, Glenn Beck, THAT’s what called fascism.

Gripey

I am cranky.

I don’t know why, really, but I feel like I could cheerfully punch someone, and I’ve felt that way for the past few days. This is when working alone really pays off, although I find emails and phone calls extra irritating. Plus actual work! You expect me to do what?

Monday night I went to Borders and ordered a small javakula (which is their version of a frappucino). Despite having said “small coffee crunch javakula” and then repeating “small” when the clerk asked me again “what size?”, I was definitely handed a large javakula by the drink maker. Both girls seemed pretty bad at their jobs – or at least distracted by other interests – a dog walking by, for example (seriously).

Anyway, I got a large, and you’d THINK I could just quit after drinking half, but those things are good, and it was sitting right there, and I hadn’t really had dinner, and I had exercised . . . I didn’t order a small b/c that’s all the drink I wanted, I ordered a small b/c I knew that would be good for me (which of course the drink maker didn’t understand when I commented on the size of the “small” I’d ordered and she just shrugged and said “enjoy!”). Suffice it to say, the large size proved an irresistible temptation.

All that back story to say that I slept like absolute crap on Monday night – I couldn’t fall asleep, and then I woke up multiple times, sometimes with my restless legs, but mostly just tossing and turning. I think it was the result of piles of caffeine in that stupid drink. And the lack of sleep is what’s making me really pissy. Plus being back at work after five days off last week AND trying to write something that I don’t know enough about, which is like pulling teeth.

I’m going out to Indiana next week, where I’ll have to deal with real co-workers and be a guest in someone’s home, so I’d better be over this mood by Monday.

Restless Tonight

Everyone makes fun of Restless Leg Syndrome, just because it sounds so ridiculous. But I totally have it! Last night I was awake for about an hour and half (from 3:30 to 5 AM) feeling twitchy. It’s hard to explain, but it’s real.

I looked it up on the internet, and apparently there’s a website and a whole community for talking about your “RLS” (which is what you should call it if “Restless Leg Syndrome” embarrasses you!). This seems extreme to me. I’m not of the opinion that anything this minor should ruin your life or take over your thoughts to the extent that you have to go online and join a support group and exchange emails about it. Yeah, it’s annoying. Yeah, it keeps me awake when I want to be sleeping. And I suppose if I had trouble sleeping EVERY night, I might be more anxious. But really, to fix it all you have to do is MOVE YOUR LEGS.

On Monday evening (note: a night when I didn’t wake up due to twitchy legs) I went and played for 2.5 hours with three toddlers. They’re exhausting, in that they have the attention span of fleas (until you find something they like to do, and then you have to do it over and over and over again) and they’d probably run off a cliff if you didn’t watch them. But they’re also fascinating as they learn to say words and climb things and absorb concepts like little sponges. We went outside, which is much more exciting than being trapped in the house, and played. They like to “chug-a-chug” along and then make the “choo-choo” sound. And if you sing to them, they just stop in their tracks and stare at you (which is a handy power to have).

So, what I’m saying is maybe I should play with toddlers every night, roll around on the grass, fall down over and over again, and THAT would solve my “sleep disorder.”

Whatever Gets You THROUGH the Day

Today was my last physical therapy appointment for the knee injury. It’s not back to normal, but I think I’ve reached the outer limits of what PT can do. Basically what I’ve been doing there is just stuff I should be doing at the gym anyway – lunges, wall sits, etc. And it is nice to feel like I have a quad muscle again, as opposed to just a limp and floppy wet noodle.

Work is work. I miss the fun and excitement of my old job, but like the freedom and flexibility of not having a boss or coworkers in the area. I come and go as I please, and the longer I work like this, the harder it’s going to be for me to return to real work life . . . "You mean you want to me to be there at 8 AM?!"

Today Starbucks sold the last scone right out from under me . . . I had ordered it, but then the drive-through worker came up and took it for HIS customer. So I had to settle for an apple bran muffin. Blech.

Also: I do not like that “thru” is becoming an acceptable usage in written communication. I realize that language is always changing, and someday we’ll prolly all rite in txt spk, but I’d like to keep that day as far off as possible.

Fight back: use THROUGH!

Bloggy

Wha?!

Yes, I'm updating my blog. Does anyone even check this thing anymore?

Honestly, I don't know what happened. I turned 30 and I quit blogging. I felt like I didn't have anything to say anymore, but then I found out I do and I've just been suppressing it.

So I'm back, baby!

And here's what's happened . . .
--New president! Super exciting. Although less exciting now that we're in the thick of it than it was when it actually happened. Election day (and night) were so great, though. I can go back and watch footage whenever I'm feeling down and it makes me feel better.

--New job! Stuff started going to hell at my old job, my homegirls were both laid off, and I decided to get out before they forced me out. I'm lucky I found a job, quite frankly, and I'm surprised I've made still employed through the Great Recession (so far). So I'm still writing, and I'm writing things that are COMPLETELY OPPOSITE of what I was writing before. This writing is better for my conscious, but the old writing was fun, I must admit. (I've explained this to several people, and they always ask if I wrote porn at my old job. I don't know why saying it this way makes people think porn, but there was no porn involved.)

--Bad knee! I had to go to Indiana for job training and ended up dislocating my kneecap, which I like to tell people about because it skeeves them out. My kneecap was on the SIDE OF MY LEG, people! But it's all mostly recovered and I can almost bend it back as far as it used to go.

--New glasses! You turn 30 and your body falls apart. My eyes seem to be progressively getting worse; I'm fighting back.

Other than that, well, things remain the same. And I'm in local coffee shop that plays mostly songs I have on my iPod, which is weird and disconcerting. Also, every time I turn into the parking lot at the gym, I hear the new song by Plain White T's (not Delilah). This has happened THREE times and I never hear it at any other time . . . and I go to the gym at different times.

Strange.

Super Tuesday

Hi-dilly Ho, Neglecterinos!
I've been sadly neglecting my blog lately. Mostly I've been neglecting everything (minus work) and coming home to hole up and watch HBO series on DVD. Six Feet Under and The Wire. My co-worker called me the "Michael Phelps of HBO DVD watching" so I guess that's something.

So I'm done with The Wire forever. Boo. Season 5 was good, but I really think The Wire peaked at Season 4. Season 4 broke your heart; Season 5 is the cynical burst of laughter that comes after your heart has been broken and you can't care anymore. Or something. Although if Dukie doesn't break your heart again, you have no heart. Just a cold black hole.

Buy Fresh, Buy Local--Thwarted!
I have been bitching regularly about the fact that local produce in our grocery stores actually costs MORE than the stuff from out of town. Wha?! So today after work I drove to CVS to get cash (because who ever has cash) and then stopped at 2 (TWO!) road side stands to buy corn, tomatoes, cantelope, and watermelon. I only had the $20, but I expected to be able to make change . . . isn't that the whole point of the honor system?! Leave that cash out where I can get it.

But no! No change! Nada! And so despite the extra trip to CVS and pulling off the road twice to check out the stands, I was foiled by society. So I stopped at Weis and bought two local peaches (unripe!) and a baguette. The baguette is what I had for dinner. I thought I had cheese here, but that was not the case.

My Next 30 Years
Oh, and today I realized that my birthday is exactly one month away. I remember feeling panicked on my 20th birthday, which is funny looking back now. The 20s have been the best decade so far . . . and I've definitely learned the most about life. So maybe the 30s will be even better that way.

But I'm still going to be panicking. Also reading the letter I wrote to my 30-year-old self from my 20-year-old self. So that should be interesting.

Ad it up

Every year our church has Bible School in the summer—essentially a week of evenings in which kids from pre-school to 8^th grade can come for activities and fun and bible stories. And every year (almost), I’ve helped.

This year was no different, and I signed up to lead a station. You might remember last year, when I led Anabaptist Adventure, and the kids chased each other around the church pretending to be either a) Anabaptists or b) the persecutors.

But this year I led the station on Media Messages, and the way advertisers get you to buy their products by putting all sorts of messages into their ads. Seems appropriate, since by day I’m the one putting messages into them. Maybe I’m helping to counteract what I do during the day. And honestly, if I could create a world where advertising didn’t work, I would be okay with that, even if it put me out of a job.

But I’m still something of a hypocrite.

Anyway, it was all good and I feel like I did my small part, and the kids got something out of it. I didn’t have the preschoolers, but the 1^st and 2^nd graders were my favorite group. They were very wide-eyed and interested, and they seemed to catch on pretty quickly. Even at that age they know that ads aren’t real, and they could pretty quickly figure out who the ads were aimed at and what the messages were.

(For some reason, two different girls brought up the ProActive infomercial to me. Must’ve made some kind of impression.)

I realized quickly how out-of-touch I am with kids stuff, too. I taped some commercials off TV on Saturday morning so I could show them, all of which I’d never seen in my life, and those kids knew every one and could quote them. The moment the commercial came on they knew what it was and what it was for.

And on another topic, yet related to media, I guess—I finished the last episode of Six Feet Under last night. Good gracious (for some reason I’ve caught myself talking like an old lady recently) was that emotional. At the end of it I was literally sobbing—not just teary, but full-on snuffling, gasping sobs (the ugly kind of crying.) I recommend it, but be prepared!

No, it's not that time of the month

Watch out! I'm slowly developing some kind of righteous feminist anger, and you'd better stay out of my way. Don't ask me where this is coming from--I feel a bit like a Hillary supporter, even though I'm not--but I'll save the ranting for another time.

Today I was at a stoplight when I glanced over at the car next to me and a guy waved at me. I shot him an odd look, because I'm not a big fan of strange men just waving at me--and then I realized that I actually knew him. He went to my high school (although he was several years behind me, and just the fact that he is out working and married is enough to me make me cringe.) But anyway, I rolled down my window and we had a little chat while we waited for the light to turn green and all was well (he did comment on the look I gave him). Like I said, watch out.

And then tonight two little twerps who were about fourteen asked me, as I got out of my car, if I had a cigarette. Normally, when people ask me for something and I deny them, I'm apologetic. Homeless people get a sad shake of the head if they ask me for money, plus a regretful look and a "No, I'm sorry." I was about to do that with this kid--it's my natural reaction--and then I realized what I was being asked FOR.

"No." I said, and I wish I could somehow write the scorn that came out of me. As if that request was the most ridiculously stupid thing ever could have asked. That "No" conveyed about 10 messages--"I don't smoke" "smoking is stupid" "you're stupid for thinking I'd give you a cigarette" "why are you out on the streets after dark asking strangers for smokes" "go home to your mother and don't you dare start smoking, young man." And probably "get off my lawn, you little brats" too--I felt like a completely old and uncool person, and I so didn't care.

Then I thought hmm, I wonder if they'll deface my car in revenge. They didn't, but I wondered what I would do if I caught them. Shake my fist and run them off with my whuppin' stick? Or bash them on the head with my giant purse?

More, please

I really think I should spend my life going away for the weekend. Granted the weekends must include temperatures near 80 and plenty of sunshine.

I spent this past weekend with friends and relations in a cabin on a creek in the country (to some, Lancaster is the country. To Lancastrians, not so much.) There was hiking, and biking, and canoeing, and a little dachshund running around, and also s'mores. I love roasting the absolutely perfect golden brown marshmallow, rotating it slowly, trying hard not to catch it on fire or char the top.

We also attempted to hold the completed s'more over the fire to melt the chocolate, which actually worked really well--if you have a 2-pronged stick to rest it on. The chocolate melts and tastes like Hershey's syrup. Note: this method is about 100 times messier than a regular s'more--and that's pretty messy.

Speaking of some more, I don't consider myself a particularly girly-girl, but the Lancaster Sephora opens on Friday and I am super-excited. No more trips to King of Prussia! More makeup! I love Sephora, I'm almost out of a bunch of my products, AND I want to find an exciting new exfoliant. And their email marketing team is pretty on top of things--today I got an email with a coupon letting me know exactly what day the store will open. So guess who will be at Sephora this Friday?! (Yes, me.)

Also bewildering this weekend. We were discussing the movie Back to the Future and HAD TO STOP AND EXPLAIN IT to some of the people we were with. I thought my friend was joking as he began: "it's this movie, from the 80s, about a kid . . . ." I almost laughed at how funny he was being, spelling it all out like that, and then I realized that he was serious, and she didn't know what he was talking about. My world was seriously shaken. Have people in 2008 really never heard of BttF?

And, exciting possibly: will the Democratic party finally have a nominee tomorrow? Fingers crossed.

Everyone knows it's windy

Random Sunday night adventure to York tonight to see The Princess Bride on the big screen. As a Lancastrian, I have an innate prejudice against the White Rose City. Rumor has it that the average IQ drops 50 points once you cross the Susquehanna. But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy an evening in an old-timey theater, with an organ (!!) playing things like The Carpenters "On Top of the World" or "Georgie Girl" before the movie starts and then disappearing back into the floor as the film begins.

Princess Bride is such a great movie--"I'm not a witch, I'm your wife!" "You've just made one of the classic blunders: the first--never get involved in a land war in Asia. But the second! Never go up against a Sicilian when death is on the line!" "Stop rhyming-I mean it. Anybody want a peanut?" "Life is pain, highness. Anyone who tells you differently is selling something." I think of that one at work all the time. But the battle of wits is my favorite part. I'm always saying "it's down to you and it's down to me." Well, whenever it's relevant, which is rare.

Before the movie we went to Memphis Blues, which is a yummy ribs/BBQ place. Tons of beef! It was delish.

The whole trip was FREEZING, though. The wind is blowing like 50 mph here. This afternoon I was running errands and it was like an obstacle course on the road--Coke bins from a nearby gas station, trash cans, tree branches--everything was out and blowing around. And tonight/tomorrow is going to be the coldest of the year so far. It's bitter. Right now I'm under the covers and I don't want to go anywhere.

Lifetimes

About forty years ago, when my dad was a teenager, he and his friends would travel to downtown Lancaster to go to the movies. Being conservative Mennonites, movies were forbidden by the church, so these rebellious boys would stand in line outside the theater ducking down behind other patrons “just in case” their bishop drove by. If the bishop saw them, there would be confrontations and issues and discussions with parents, but because they wanted to see such forbidden fare as The Glass Bottom Boat starring Doris Day, my dad and his friends went out anyway. And hid.

Last night I went out to an area restaurant. We were waiting for our drink orders when MY bishop entered the place. I smiled and waved at him and his wife, and they sat right behind us. The waitress brought my white russian, and as I took a sip, I heard a waitress reciting the beer selection behind me.

I have no idea what he ordered; I’m pretty sure it was a beer, and I certainly felt no qualms about finishing my drink in front of him as the two of them said good-bye to us and headed out the door.

I guess it doesn’t really need to be stated, but I’m going to state it anyway: a lot has changed around here.

A History of my Life as Told with Cars

I sold my old car yesterday, or at least I almost. I still have the title, plus several thousand in cash. They have the car with expired plates. So, good deal for me. We will be meeting to do the title transfer after I return from Thanksgiving.

So, end of another car era. My car-owning eras coincide roughly with parts of my life. My first car was an '87 Dodge Shadow, blue, which was really a piece of crap. It got me around, I guess, and no big deal if I ran it into something (which I did on a few occasions; usually parked cars). I did leave me sitting alone on the interstate, no cell phone (this was in the late 90s); fortunately I was within easy walking distance of an exit. At 87,000 miles it was about finished, and during Christmas Breaks in college I would drive it with fear and trembling--one time the brakes cut out, another time we lost all real power on the way home from the beach, so we had to roll through all stop signs and pray we didn't hit any lights red, because the car wouldn't take off from a dead stop. Every year was a question: what will happen to the Shadow this Christmas?

My college car was a '90 Ford Bronco in silver. A big 4WD beast of a thing for those snowy western NY winters. I drove my friends around; we put seven girls in it for a cold ride to New England (cold for those in the way-back, at least). I took it grocery shopping, and on long drives to church. We even drove it to Florida for Spring Break. I liked it okay, and I really liked having a car, but small things were always going wrong--windows stuck down, tires going flat and not being able to find replacements in Podunk, NY--little glitches that made things difficult.

After college, when I moved here and didn't need the Bronco anymore, my dad sold it for me and I got the old '95 Honda. This became essentially the car of my 20s, and I really loved how reliable it was. The Honda took me all over--Lancaster, up to New England, to Ontario, down to North Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland. It's been up to Pittsburgh, to Baltimore, to Philly. It's taken me to thousands of work days at three different jobs, to many weddings, to a few funerals. I've sat in it nervously before dates and job interviews; I've had hundreds of conversations with myself, been angry, and wept, too.

And now it's gone, and I'm 29, with a new car that will take me well into my 30s. We'll just have to see what happens.