Everybody Loves Saturday Night

It's midterm conference time, and I'd rather write a decent post in which I have something to say than a rushed one that says nothing.

The real question of the day is whether I'm going to get my life together long enough to sort my laundry and haul it down to the 'mat. After a little over a year of priding myself on actually enjoying Laundry Days, I realized that I really only enjoy doing laundry when I can do it in my own house or building, and that's no longer an option. I did enjoy taking my wash over a few blocks to the laundromat/coffee stand, which is adorably called the Bean 'n' Clean. Honestly, how can I not do my laundry there? But, as with so many other things, other people and their hyperactive children got in the way, and it became impossible to enjoy the two hours I had away from everything while my clothes and towels and sheets got clean. And then, as is typical of people living in New York, I ran out of time to spare those two hours. A short time ago, I broke down and submitted myself to the inevitable: the drop-off service. It felt unnatural and extravagant and as though I was living a lie--I'm paying someone else to wash my dirty clothes? how can that be?--and most importantly, it was rather difficult to give up control (what if they ruin my stuff?), but you know what? It's only a couple bucks more than it would be if I did it myself and it saves me two hours and I've come to depend on it. So now the only problem is getting the stuff together to take over, and yes, I do wait until I'm completely out of clothes because it's the last thing I really think about, now that I've abdicated the responsibility for actually doing the work. Good thing the weather turned warm so I've got this whole new season of clothes to wear.

Spring break looms on the horizon and I couldn't be happier or more grateful.

Friday was an active day--a lunch date and a movie night--and I paid for it the whole weekend. Completely wiped out. I did absolutely no work. Fortunately, I've got no grading to do for tomorrow, just a lesson plan to figure out (it's the last real class before break. Kinda a "what's the point" day). I've got some writing that needs to get done, but I couldn't concentrate on anything for more than 10 minutes. I wasn't as sick as I was, just felt like a lifeless husk. It was worth it, though, because Friday night I went to see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and it's brilliant. The most satisfying of the previous Charlie Kaufman-penned movies, so if you liked Being John Malkovich and Adaptation, you will adore this one. It's visually stunning, appropriately warped, inventive, and it made me like Jim Carrey, which hasn't happened since Truman Show. As we were getting our stuff together to head out of the theater and discussing how great the movie was, this woman walked by and asked, "Oh, so you liked it?" and when we all answered yes, she made this scrunchy face, a thumbs-down gesture, and said, "I thought it was a whole lotta nothing." I don't know what movie she was watching.

Did you know...based on the overwhelming success of The Passion, another controversial film set in Biblical times and focusing on one man's fight against Roman oppression is set for rerelease at the end of April? That's right...Life of Brian is returning to the big screen. ("He's not the Messiah, he's a very naughty boy!")

Speaking of rereleases...apparently the original Godzilla is making a comeback in honor of its 50th anniversary. Sweet. Here's a list of cities showing it.

OK, so when I'm a bit more caught up in my life, I'll post some pics of the amazing things I got from TBFA over the weekend. And maybe a progress pic of the construction of Tilt? Maybe.

Where to start?

(how many of you are now thinking, "Let's start at the very beginning...a very good place to start..."? I know it's not just me. C'mon. Be honest.)

I am sitting in Prezzie Central. 9:30 a.m., Priority Mail came a-knockin' and delivered these goodies from Maggi:



How about that Maggi, huh? In addition to the absolutely beautiful, rich-colored cotton/wool/mohair spun in her own backyard (well, not literally, but it comes from Chester Farms, VA), she sent a beautiful fabric-covered button and the most perfect magnet I've ever seen. Can you read it? It's funny 'cause it's true. I love it all. Thank you, Maggi!

A couple hours later, I was on my way to lunch with Mindy, feeling almost recovered from my cold. I do feel better, but somehow I sound worse. Why does that happen? Anyway, we met at this really good Indian restaurant not too far from where she works (the same place we went when Maggi was in town), and in addition to a lovely meal complete with chai tea and nan (mmmm...nan), Mindy presented me with a fantastic CD mix (featuring some selections from my birthday buddy Mr. Shatner, tres appropriate) and this!



My flash got the best of this one, unfortunately. It's a beautiful deep purply chenille, very soft and insulating against my still kinda sore throat. It was almost too warm to wear it today, but I can feel a little chill in the air right now, so it will definitely be getting some use. Thanks, Mindy!



(apologies to those of you who have heard this story already)

My mom...my mom is not the kind of woman who gambles. I will admit, as she will, that occasionally she buys things completely on impulse (and really, who doesn't?). These purchases are generally within the realm of crafts (bragging moment: she's an expert stitcher and her cross-stitch work has won more than a few prize ribbons at the MN State Fair), which I'm sure a lot of you can relate to. But my mom is not the kind of person who is known for taking risks. This is important.

Last December, she and my stepdad attended the annual fiesta that their sort annually attends (is that vague enough for you?). It's a fancy-dress function that features dinner and dancing, and this year it featured a silent auction to raise money for some charity or other. Now, the story as she told me is as follows: she and a friend were ambling around the auction, looking at what was offered. She saw something that sparked her interest, and--I don't know, maybe she'd had a glass of wine or something--she bid on it, for fun. Not thinking. Caught up in the spirit.

So she says to me, "Guess what you're getting for your birthday."

My response: "What were you thinking?!"

"Well, I didn't think I'd win it."


click to enlarge

She won't tell me what she bid.

I love my mom.

I'm here, in my office, bracing myself for class. Still feeling off, but I came armed with Kleenex and Theraflu (is there anything more wondrous?) and cough drops. It's supposed to be an easy day for me today, as students are going to be workshopping their next papers. It's supposed to...doesn't mean it will be.

Hey, I got my Rowan subscription package in the mail yesterday! I'd ordered it online about three weeks ago, thinking I'd time it so that it'd arrive around my b-day, and it worked! But you know, that Tumbling Blocks pattern? Is photocopied so miserably that I can hardly read it. Pretty yarn, though. Mmmmm...Rowan.

I got Mike sick, too. We were supposed to have gone out last night to a reading/party hosted by the lovely and talented Cari, but had to cancel and wound up spending the evening kvetching and whining on the couch in front of the TV (at one point Mike pretended to get up and work, but instead went and looked up how the Reds are doing so far this pre-season. Silly man from Cincinnati). As far as American Idol is concerned, justice has been served. I am, however, becoming concerned about our sweet little Johnny Red's personality, or lack thereof.

Also, it's rather obscene how happy I am that The O.C. is back on.

I'm 3" away from the completion of the Tilt sleeves (to be completed in front of The Apprentice tonight) and then I just have the last two yoke pieces to do before I can start putting it all together. I've decided that this jacket, the Must-Have, and maybe the Kureyon raglan will be the last wool projects of the year. Considering how much I have yet to do on the Must-Have (I haven't gotten to armhole shaping on the back yet, and still have the two front pieces), I may shelve it 'til next year. Then again, it could get colder again. Not saying it will, and believe me, I'm hoping it won't, but it could. But I am all fired up for spring and summer knitting. First up: I'm going to finish that Corset Pullover that's been sleeveless for a year.

My yarn situation is out of control. I really do need to take an inventory, but that might have to wait until I'm on break (week after next). I just placed a yooge order with Threadbear, which will include a swift (thanks, Mike!) and a ballwinder (thanks, Aunt Cindy!) and mountains of Plassard. Our sweet Rachael (go wish her a speedy recovery from pneumonia!) was so kind to send along a gift certificate, and I swore I was going to save it for a very special occasion and then...then I thought, "I wonder if Rob's posted anything new?" Ohhhhhh...yeah. Yeah. Baby. Gift certificate? Spent.

So, I've formulated a restriction for myself. I will not buy (keyword: buy) any yarn in mass quantities (meaning more than two units at a time) until I have completed three major projects (meaning those which require more than two units of yarn) with the yarn I already have, not including the ones I've already started.

So shall it be done.

You've all done marvelously well at making me feel special the last day or so. I especially want to say "hey there!" to people who don't comment (much) here, because I really do appreciate it, and I like clicking the links to new and exciting places. I don't always have the time to do it, and then I forget, but I'm going to try and make more of an effort this time.

I am still sick. I actually called in sick today, and I never do that. But Rachael's got me a little freaked out with her pneumonia and all, and I don't want to run myself ragged. I was all set to jump in the shower, and then I got all dizzy again and the thought of being in a classroom and getting hounded by my students for two hours, plus then 1:15 hour commute both ways...I love my students, but they're so needy sometimes. So I gathered up their email addresses and composed a monolith of instructions for Thursday, and said if they had any questions they knew how to contact me. They're so sweet...but one of them has emailed me 5 times already. Oy!

How's this for a bit of random "how'd that happen"? I got a message from the editor of a scholarly publication that focuses on Victorian periodicals (Victorian Periodicals Review, in fact), inquiring if I would be interested in reviewing an article manuscript for them. While this isn't one of those much-coveted publication lines for my CV, it's still going to be something. It's exciting, because it's the first time someone's asked me to do something like this, and I'm sure he got my name from someone in the English Dept. although I haven't physically been there for two years. At the same time, I'm feeling rather Michael Corleone-ish, and although that joke's funnier if I don't explain it, I will anyway: just when I think I'm getting out of academe...

1. Woo!

2. Officially, I turn 33 at 6:02 PM CST.

3. Thanks, mom!

4. I guess dad played a part. But I don't think he reads this blog, so again: thanks, mom!

5. 20 years ago today, I was 13. I just watched Thirteen. My experience was quite different, and yet I could identify and relate. 13 is a brutal year. I'm so glad I'm the age I'm at.

6. There was a big snowstorm the day I was born, somewheres in the plains of the Midwest. The East Coast has provided me with glorious sun...but it's a little cold out there.

7. I got sick over the weekend. I'm all stuffed up and woozy and gross. Good thing I didn't have major plans today. Yay, me. What timing.

8. Duh nuh nuh nuh NUH nuh nuh nuh...

9. It's also my next door neighbor's birthday today. How funny is that? I've never met anyone else with the same b-day as mine and then I move to New York and boom! She's right across the hall.

10. She's older than I am, though.

11. On my 12th birthday I got three copies of Thriller.

12. I have to grade papers today. Wow, I really know how to live on the edge.

13. I've had some pretty cool birthdays, though. I turned 16 in London, and 21 at the Grand Canyon.

14. Man, I shoulda gone to New Orleans this year. Maybe next year.

15. I still don't have any set plans for this year, though. I should probably stop thinking so far ahead and concentrate on the "what now?"

16. Hey, Robin left a really nice review on Blogorama over the weekend, so she deserves a special shout out. Thanks, Robin!

17. Thanks to everyone who's left good wishes and all that.

18. I still don't have a full-time job.

19. Oh, but my brother is going to be either head writer or close to head writer for the entertainment portion of St. Paul's minor league baseball team this year!

20. So at least someone in the family is doing well for himself. 4 months out of the year.

21. I kinda miss the days when you got to bring cupcakes in for the whole class when it was your birthday.

22. Oh, speaking of grade school, so I taught 5th graders how to crochet on Friday...sort of. Wow, that was hard. I had a little over an hour with them and we only got through making that initial chain. I mean, that's partly because they could not settle down for more than 3 minutes at a time. Elementary school teachers, I salute you. I don't know how you do it.

23. They were adorable, though. I would totally do it again. I was really impressed and pleased that so many of them picked it up fairly quickly.

24. Last year I got my digital camera for my birthday, so in honor of that, and in honor of spring, here's a random shot I took last April in Cental Park:



25. "Dawn of the Dead" has booted "The Passion" out of the #1 box office spot. I derive no end of satisfaction from that.

27. Other people born on this day: Reese Witherspoon, Marcel Marceau, Stephen Sondheim and William Shatner.

28. On this day in 1972 (I was 1, for those of you keeping track), the Senate passed the ERA and sent it for ratification...which didn't happen.

29. I can't wait to open my presents.

30. Also on this day in 1895, people in Paris were treated to Auguste and Louis Lumiere's first movie--this is regarded as the very first time a movie was projected on a large screen for a public audience.

31. I should go to a movie today.

32. Lately I've been having a hard time remembering just how old I am. Someone asks and I have to think, ok, so it's 2004...that makes me...

33. And there it is.

Because they have to come out somehow, somewhere.

What's that song? "Oh, I love you more today than yesterday..." I woke up with it in my head. I think it's by Chicago. And while I was trying to figure out why and whatnot, it morphed into those other Chicago songs that come to me--uninvited--now and then. I will admit to liking the one that starts "Saturday in the park/I think it was the 4th of July..."

Ha ha! Now you have it in your head!

I'm going to say that this has something to do with Chicago the city being a part of my dream last night. I'm not sure it was, but I know it wasn't about me being forced to do naked karaoke in front of my dissertation committee, and that's the only other viable alternative.

The other thing that's running through my head for no reason--not that it needs one--is from an early Eddie Murphy show--not Delirious or Raw--I think this one is untitled, but I had it on audio tape when I was a kid (thank you, Columbia House!) and played it all. The. Time. And some things just stick. Like this, from a riff on the concept of talking cars and how his car's from the hood and all, so instead of saying "Lights are on" it says stuff like "Say my man, somebody just stole your batt'ry. I say we go get the muthafucka." I can't help it. It cracks me up.

Talking cars...that didn't really take off as an idea outside of Knight Rider, did it?

Dig my copious and ungrammatical use of emdashes up there.

Right now I would say something like "yay, more snow!" but the other New Yorkers would probably throw rocks at me. If they could find them under all that snow!

Hey, how about some pictures?

My yarn from Woolcott's arrived early last week. I had to start on a scarf immediately (Michelle Needs More Scarves Campaign, if you will recall) so I grabbed the most interesting and colorful balls of yarn I had purchased, and here's what I've got so far:


I am much prettier in person. Honest.

This is one of the most unique yarns I've ever worked with. It's Japanese, from a company called Diakeito, and this yarn is called Diadomina (50% mohair, 21% wool, 29% nylon), color 309. I'm using a feather & fan pattern, but since I only have two balls of this yarn, I cast on a mere 36 stitches. I haven't decided if I'm going to block it wider or not.

She is a lot prettier in person--what looks like horribly garish magentas are really subtle and softer gradations of red-violet and pink, and that awful gold color? Really apple-green (like it is in the ball over there). The camera accentuates the sheen as well. I'm not crazy about the browns in there, and frankly, there are times when I look at the scarf and think, "this is just too weird," but I think that's part of its charm. I can honestly say I have nothing even remotely like this already. When I started working on it, I kept thinking "apple orchard," because of the greens, reds and browns, but the more I work with it, the more pleased I am with the way the yarn changes color (it's like Noro that way). I'll be knitting on the subway, working with green, and then all of a sudden hey! I've got pink. So...can you see where I'm heading with this?...it has to be called the Horse of a Different Color Scarf. Hi, Greta!

Here's what I've got on Tilt so far:


This is not how it's getting put together.

These pieces are going to need some serious blocking. I've got the next main body piece on the needles right now, so more mindless knitting for me (which perhaps means I should get my eyes back on Proust?).

And finally, I have a confession to make. Some of you are really, really on the ball and have mailed out these amazing gifts that have arrived in my mailbox several days before my birthday (for the record, the whole birthday-countdown thing was not meant to be a "you have this many shopping days" shameless appeal for loot. It was just to get people to make a big fuss over me, because I'm just that egomaniacal. Not that the loot isn't appreciated. But the verbal/written comments are really important to this attention-craving spotlight ho). How do I know they're amazing? Because! I've, um, opened them already.

I mean, how can I not open this? But I'm getting ahead of myself. The first package to arrive was from the divine Ms. Alison, Brainylady herself. Without even thinking, "Oh hey, maybe I should wait until Monday," I ripped it open, and found...this!



The Japanese pattern mag? FULL of awesome stuff I want to make...so I need a translator. Or to learn Japanese, which I'd actually like to do at some point. You know, someone could make money offering reading-only language courses specifically geared to knitters. Maybe not a lot of money.

The card is fantastic, too--it's a little felt purse with blue rhinestone-y type thingies for the strap and button. I love 3-D cards! My favorite thing, though, is the M button. I couldn't get a decent close-up shot, but it's a little M-shaped schmoo* with starry eyes and a l'il smile and it's just the cutest thing I've ever seen. Thank you, Ali! Mwah!

The festive package came from Greta, and wait til you see what was inside...



It's a mini-journal with illustrations from Wizard of Oz! I adore it. It's perfect! And it's going straight to my nightstand so that I will finally have a notebook for those late night/early morning thoughts, or to record my actual dreams. Anything goes. So thoughtful, but then, that's our Greta, isn't it? Thank you! Mwah!

OK, but to be good and fair now, I hereby promise that I will not open anything that comes in the mail that could be a prezzie until Monday.

Up next: in which Michelle goes off to teach fifth graders how to crochet, which she herself can't really do very well, but the school couldn't get knitting needles in time, so there you go.

* I love that Carrie calls her pups "schmoos."

P.S. I've been trying to find out who sings that "More Today Than Yesterday" song but all I'm getting are covers...oh, wait! Spiral Starecase. Not Chicago.

I think the snow has stopped. We're supposed to get a little more late tonight, but for now, it's just cold. And that's the main difference between me and everyone else who lives here: I love the snow. I know it's mid-March. But that's just it--it's mid-March, and this is the time that folks up North (as we are) are due for winter's last romp. Where I'm from, this wouldn't be considered a last romp at all (I ever tell you about the time it snowed on my prom night?). Here, it surely is. It's a chance for us to say goodbye to the best thing about winter before it all melts and the crocuses come up again. Well, that and another reminder that Mother Nature is the boss of us (tm La Brainy).

I can't tell you how relieved I am that Johnny Red made it to the next week (but oh, how uncomfortable he looked during that opening song. Poor baby). I find it hard to believe, however, that Matt wasn't even in the bottom three and Jennifer Hudson was. Even if you did think she oversang (and I can see it, definitely), she's still a much, much better performer. Still, I think justice was done. I admit, this is the first season I've watched almost all the way through, and I am soooo tired of how much they drag out these shows. I kept flipping back to CBS (I'm shocked that Ethan's gone before Jerri, but not really all that shocked...and King of Queens? Actually kinda funny! Who knew?) because that's one of the few stations that comes in rather well. FOX comes in...kinda. It's always fuzzy and there's a huge shadow, but then--I'm not watching so much as listening, so I don't really care.

So, you know, I missed out on the whole "color your blog grey in support of the Grey Album" thing, but danged if I'm going to miss a chance to go green in honor of a holiday that I have absolutely no connection to whatsoever. It's fun, though.

I missed the parade of elephants! See, when Ringling Bros. comes to town, they have a parade of elephants through midtown to Madison Square Garden. I would guess that in smaller towns, this parade happens during the day. Here, it happens at midnight. I went last year, when it was nice and dry and unsnowy, and even though I waited for about an hour before a dinky little parade of about five elephants, still...elephants! On parade! And I was just a few feet away! Close enough to almost touch...and definitely close enough to smell. But...elephants! So I missed it this year, because I found out too late (like, this morning) that it was happening. See, this is what happens when you let your TimeOut subscription lapse. I'm bummed...but then, would I have wanted to go out and wait in the wind and the snow and the muck? No, not really. And I'm sure the elephants weren't too happy about it either. (elephants!)

Oh, well.

Tilt-ing last night was a whole lotta one step forward, fourteen steps back. If you replace "steps" with "rows." I'm working on one of the front yoke pieces, which is, as you can see from the pattern, worked at an angle with increases and decreases on each row. It's all laid out on a nice, easy-to-follow chart that includes the number of stitches you're supposed to have at the end of each row, and I got through the back yoke without a hitch. Two nights ago, I found myself eight stitches short on the front yoke piece, so I put it away for the night (it needed a time out) but ripped it out at the start of American Idol. Halfway through the show, I realized again that I was off, and this despite double checking every other row. So by the end of that two-hour show, I wound up two rows behind where I'd left off originally. Frustrating.

But say, how 'bout that American Idol, huh? You know that adorable red-headed kid, the silky-voiced Rat Pack wannabe who looks like the bastard child of Conan O'Brien and Rick Astley? I love him. Oh, he's not going to get very far, but I just love him. What kills me? I'm twice his age! Woo HOO! Sigh.

I think Matt's going tonight. It's possible that my baby John will go, but I really hope he gets to stick around for one more week because he's just so sweet, and Matt bugs me. The only guy I think will make it very far is George, and frankly, I think they should just give the title to Latoya and be done with it.

~~~~~

P.S. OK, more on the social promotion deal: there's a good NY Times article on the real issue at stake:

Many of the most prominent experts, like Mr. Levine, say the political debate over social promotion — with conservatives demanding the mastery of basic skills and liberals urging the nurturing of social development — misses the point. Neither promoting unprepared students nor holding them back is beneficial, these experts say. Identifying struggling students as early as kindergarten and providing individualized services is the real challenge.

So good. I'm not crazy. And once again, we have I don't know how big a percentage of the paltry allotment of the budget to education thrown away on standardized tests.

"US government faked Bush news reports"

The US government admitted it paid actors to pose as journalists in video news releases sent to TV stations intending to convey support for new laws about health benefits.

Hmmm.

About Kerry's "lie" that the rest of the world wants Bush out of office:

As Vice President Dick Cheney and Scott McClellan, the White House spokesman, continued to criticize Kerry on the issue, the reporter - one of two allowed to attend the event on behalf of the press corps - said on Monday that he had made a mistake when transcribing his recording of the session.

(OK, the mistake isn't that huge. Kerry wasn't entirely misquoted. But still. How hard is it to believe? Especially when headline after headline on Buzzflash is about the growing concern and distaste of other countries for what Bush is doing to the world?)

That's what I've got time for today. Other than to say in response to Rachael's comment, that Troy pretty much had me from "Be the Hat." I also like Amy and Bill. That's my pick for the final Apprentice three.

Yup, politics and reality TV. I live a sad, sad life. At least there's a good stretch of American Idol on tonight so I can continue Tilting. I'll have to mute a couple people (are ya feelin' me on that? you know what I'm sayin'?), but it's the perfect mindless TV to accompany my knitting. Productivity + guilty pleasure = happy me.

P.S. As I was writing this, Col left some amazing commentary on the whole shebang going on between the Hassidic Jews and the "artists" in yesterday's comment box. Go read. She says it much better than I ever could. 'Specially that last one of hers. Heh.

P.P.S. Crap! On my way up here (I'm at work) I told myself I was going to write about the new resolution to impose tougher restrictions on what's known here as "social promotion." My slight understanding of the situation beforehand was that social promotion is the term given to kids who advance to the fourth grade without being fully prepared--the news program I watched a couple days ago said, "kids who can't read or write," but now I'm wondering if that's more like "can't read or write at a third grade level" or can't read or write AT ALL. There's a huge difference. I have no idea what the restrictions were before, if there were any. Bloomie wanted to make it tougher to advance without being fully prepared, and that seemed like a good idea to me. Parent advocacy groups protested that holding children back punished the kids who needed special help...but letting them advance to 4th grade isn't exactly giving them the help they need, right?

So, here's what happened: Bloomie fired the people on the voting panel who didn't agree with him. And then I found out that the determining factor in deciding whether a 3rd grader is capable of handling the next level is a standardized test--the first one these kids will ever face. A student who doesn't do well faces summer school to try again, or a teacher can write on her/his behalf. I am so sick of standardized testing being the answer to everything, and I'm not sure I understand the importance of the difference between 3rd and 4th grade. I completely agree that a child who is not ready to advance should not advance, but that child deserves all the help s/he needs in order to make it, and that's what I see missing from this whole one-sided conversation. What do you all think?

OK, so I knew about the hubbub between Williamsburg's Hassidic Jews and the enclave of artists encroaching on their territory--the whole thing centers around a new building of expensive condos that they don't own (I'm not playing the greedy Jew stereotype--I would think any group of people who had pretty much controlled an area for decades and is now facing lack of that control would be pretty pissed off). What I didn't know? Busta Rhymes has reportedly bought three of those condos. Busta in the hood! Yeah!

I can't get into the Hassidic vs. artists thing. It's just too dumb.

~~~~~

Survivor: All-Stars is reminding me more and more of those hypothetical "Who do you think would win in a fight? Megazord or Optimus Prime?" geekodebates that are far better in theory than in practice. I just. Don't. Care. Anymore. (About Survivor: All-Stars, that is. Megazord would totally kick Optimus Prime's butt.)

I am, however, totally hooked by The Apprentice. Second best reality TV show out there (the first being The Amazing Race, of course, which should start up again in May, after the regular season ends?).

~~~~~

I got back to knitting this weekend. Too lazy/busy (you decide) to take pictures. I did return to Tilt last night and forced myself to knit looser so I could get the right gauge for the yoke pieces. And it worked! I did the right back yoke last night, in front of Alias, which featured Ricky Gervais of The Office, which I rented a couple weeks ago and loved loved loved. Really well done character-driven comedy. The first 20 minutes weren't that laugh-out-loud funny, but once I got a bead on all the characters, I could not stop laughing. Hoping season 2 gets released soon. I love the powers that be that decided TV series made for good DVDs.

~~~~~

Kudos to Spain.

~~~~~

My horoscope from Yahoo is a total riot: "You take great pleasure in having a neat and organized house, dear Aries. In your mind, cleanliness really is next to godliness. Today, you may find yourself dismayed by how run-down you have allowed your home to become. It's time for some clearing out, scouring and scrubbing! Do this yourself, rather than having hired help. You will be pleasantly surprised at how much it will help you to clear your head."

Please.

Holy Voltron rip-off, you're Megazord!

You own being huge. You are the hugest guy around, without a doubt. Even really huge people whimper at your hugeness. And you are made of really huge robot dinosaurs. Huge. You are so huge it takes five power rangers to control you. And you can mash anything. Even mounds of foam rubber the size of cities. Because you're huge. Sorted.

Declare your hugeness with the following sticker of power:


Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?


Link provided by this fab blog that Col directed me to, Pop Culture Junk Mail. Yes, that's a Peeps Maker at the top. (Yes, I have informed Mariko.) But my other favorite thing? There's a link to a site that carries MP3s and videos from The Electric Company. Check it out!

I just don't know what to write. I'm disgusted and empty about the news from Madrid.

But I will say thank you--thank you!--to everyone who left such wonderful comments yesterday. I can't tell you how much they mean to me.

There's a guy from the police department coming over this morning to check out the apartment's vulnerability to future break-ins. We've already had someone in to measure the doors for new ones, but if there's something else that can be done, I wanna know what it is. I want a totally impenetrable fortress, dig? Fortress of Solitude, Fortress Around Your Heart, A Mighty Fortress...that's what I want.

Paul Winfield? This is like a few months ago, when Johnny Cash, John Ritter and...crap, who was the other person?...all died within a few weeks of each other. OK, but happy thoughts...

How 'bout some hamentaschen pictures? Since S. did most of the baking (I want the record to show that I am perfectly capable of baking and that, in fact, I'm pretty good at it, but that...well, you know how some people get in their own kitchen) I took pictures to record our progress, so here it is: The Hamentaschen Photo-Log (pictures can be sized up by doing that thing with the mouse).

S. made the dough the night before, because it has to chill in the fridge. Here it is, waiting to be rolled out:



I did the rolling, and I did a damn fine job of it, thank you very much. Here it is, the perfect rolling job:



Then, I cut medium sized circles out of the dough, using a ceramic bowl because that's what matched the size we wanted.



But wait! Where's the filling? We decided to use two different kinds: apricot and poppyseed. These were always my favorites as a kid. My students claim that the only good kind of hamentaschen is chocolate filled, and I don't care if they're more observant Jews than I am, or if this is some sort of East Coast Jewish thing, but chocolate-filled hamentaschen is sacrilegious. Period. Raspberry filling is pushing it...but it's tasty, so I'll let that one slide.

We bought apricot jam and made the poppyseed filling. I took pictures of S. grinding the poppyseeds, and the poppyseed filling cooking on the stove, but those aren't very interesting pictures (not like the exciting dough pictures at all). I will take you instead to the construction of the hamentashen itself. You bloop a little filling on the dough circle, like this:



Then, you fold up the dough to form a triangle (note the disjointed timeline of this photolog [phlog?]):



Make sure to pinch the edges so that the filling doesn't seep out!



S. actually let me make a few of my own, so here's one of them:



Twenty minutes in the oven, and we had some very tasty treats. Even the ones that kinda 'sploded.





Why yes, I did. I'm suffering a little from buyer's remorse and feeling rather embarrassed about how much I spent at Woolcott's. It's rather like a few days after a really raucous bender, when the full force of how obnoxious and wanton I was under the influence of a few too many tequila drinks hits me (that doesn't happen, Mom. I'm just making a point). I show the following picture in the same spirit as I would show a friend a hickey...on my thigh (ibid...maybe).



In my defense, the stuff in the wicker baskets? Not mine. But then, how many people can tell where my basket ends and the wicker baskets begin? Yeah...thought so. I can't either. My problem is that in much the same way that I decided I needed more scarves (and much of the yarn I bought is for just that purpose), I decided a couple days before my trip to Boston that I was in desperate need of more tank tops and camisole-type thingies, not because summer's coming but because I like wearing them underneath cardigans, and I'm down to two that don't fit me very well. And because tanks require less yarn than sweaters, I bought a lot. Rational. And I used to be so good with money. You know what? After this month's Threadbear splurge, that's it. That's it until...I finish my dissertation and defend it and head over to Threadbear in person (it's a day trip from Oxford!) to celebrate.

I wouldn't have made it to Woolcott's in the first place had it not been for the last-minute cancellation of our hiking plans, because it was supposed to rain that day. I knew that Amber was working that day, and what a treat to meet her--though she's a dangerous enabler. I think she could hold her own with Rob, I really do.



I think this is after I made my purchases--see what a brave face I put on? And could Amber be more adorable? I think not.

OK, I've only got one more thing to tell you all, but it's really exciting. The new issue of Slant Review is out, and I'm in it! For those in the know, I'm published under a different last name--the one I plan on legally changing to at some point in the near future. This is a trying-it-out period for me. You'll need to click on the picture to get to issue 7--clicking on the Slant image will get you issue 6 (at least, it did for me. It'll get fixed soon, I'm sure).

So, happy thoughts, happy news, happy hamentaschen and happy knitting. Happy happy.

I am so bummed.

Yeah, so, right. I get back from Boston to find that my apartment had been broken into but oddly and miraculously enough, nothing is missing. Whoever it was got my neighbor's place too, and she's missing some stuff, and that really sucks. Someone was out on the deck of the house that we can see from our back windows, and he saw someone suspicious in one of the apartments, and called the cops, so I guess they got here before the guy could take anything from my place. And Scout was too freaked out, I guess, to bolt from the apartment, and he seems fine. Physically, at least. Who knows what kind of trauma he's rocking on the inside.

Fuck. You know? I s'pose this was bound to happen sooner or later, and I'm really lucky and thankful that the mgmt. is acting on things so quickly--we're all getting new doors. No one was hurt, everything's fine, but I am pretty shaken up.

So, until I'm at a bit more leisure for a full report complete with pictures (including a money shot of my rather shameless yarn expedition), here's an abbreviated version of my weekend:

Boston was excellent. Purim was fabulous. Mindy's right--it's a requirement to get so drunk that you can't tell the difference between Haman and Mordecai--kinda like not being able to tell the difference between Gandhi and Pol Pot. S. remembered it differently--you're not supposed to be able to tell the difference between Hillel and a Hillel sandwich. I do remember at some point on Saturday I remarked, "Y'know, I can still tell the difference. And a Hillel sandwich sounds really really good right about now" We were at a psuedo tiki bar that served many "exotic" drinks, unfortunately none of which were the sort of big heaping bowl of 30 different alcohols with a volcano thingy in the middle...but then, my birthday's coming up, so all is good.

Went to fab thrift store, where I realized that with all the money I spend on yarn, I haven't bought clothes in a long long time. Next day, natch, went to yarn store, where my body was possessed by someone with a full time job, who forced me to spend an ungodly amount of money. And I met Amber, 'cause she works there.

* Hillel: way famous rabbi of centuries past, who said "If I am not for myself, then who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, then what am I? And if not now, when?" A Hillel sandwich is a Passover dealie, made by putting some bitter herbs and charoset (many different ways to make this one--my grandma used apples, nuts, and cinnamon. It's meant to symbolize the mortar Jews used to build the pyramids) together on a piece of matzah. Passover is a month away, and it's my favorite holiday, so I'll talk more about it later.

Or something to that effect.

Went to a friend's birthday party last night (happy birthday, G!)--he'd decided to eschew the standard "birthday in a bar" crap and used his parents' "apartment" for the gathering. "Apartment" is in quotes because this place...wow. I really have no words. To compare its size to mine seems so cliché, and you have no idea how big my place is to begin with. Easily one of the most beautiful abodes I've ever been in. Huge open space, beautiful decor. It was a really fun time--but the fact that I wasn't in a bar didn't mean I didn't have a wee bit too much of the wine...and I need to remember: ONE GLASS OF CHAMPAGNE IS ENOUGH, REALLY.

So, I'm off to Boston this afternoon. Snow tubing has been cancelled because it's been about 60 degrees for the past five days. We're going hiking instead. I'm coming back Sunday, so I'll post again on Monday. Have a great weekend, everyone.

Oh, and Happy Purim! You have no idea how hard it is to find Jewish-themed clip art that's not about Chanukkah. Purim is the celebration of Esther's heroism in saving her people. It can be summed up, as most Jewish holidays can, by the following three sentences:

They tried to kill us.
We won.
Let's eat.

Have a hamentaschen.

Somewhere around 72 St. last night, on my subway ride home, two women came on and sat across from me wearing "It's up to Women! Vote Kerry" buttons. That made me smile. Speaking of Kerry, Carolyn sent me a link to this Slate article, which expresses doubts about Kerry's ability to govern. The author of the article makes a few good points, particularly about the inability of presidents to accomplish their goals in an increasingly bipartisan atmosphere, and especially when Congress represents the other party. It's a good "bring me down to earth" article, but I remain optimistic. What else can I do?


Back in October--so long ago--I wrote a post about a man who sits in the tunnel connecting the L/F/V line with the 1/2/3/9 line, making pictures with colored pencils. You can read that post here, if you scroll down to October 3rd's entry. Here's a little part of it:

Mostly, however, he draws alien attacks on urban areas. They're the kind of pictures you wouldn't be surprised to find in the notebooks of prepubescent boys--at least, that's what I'm reminded of. Tall buildings, scattered lights of late-night workers, the Ur-UFO image with single lines drawn from it to the buildings, some things on fire...you get the idea. Over and over, this is what he draws and colors. It fascinates me--I've been trying to find a way to talk about this without coming across as condescending or glib and I'm not sure it's working. I absolutely love the fact that he makes pictures of aliens attacking the city.

Since then, I've tried to remember to have money with me each Tuesday/Thursday, so I could buy one of the pictures, but it always seemed that if I had money, he wasn't there, or there weren't any UFO pictures, or he'd be there and I wouldn't have money. One night, to my absolute horror, I had money, and he was there, but someone else was buying the UFO picture that should have been mine. It was one with flashing lights on the UFOs, too.

But last night, it happened. Joseph was there, I had money, and a UFO picture was mine for the taking. I told him how much I loved them, and mentioned that he used to have some with the flashing lights on the UFOs, and he said, "Yeah, I need to get more lights." I promised to buy another picture when he has them again. Here is the one I got. It's mounted on cardboard--when I walked up last night he was cutting up more cardboard. My blocking board is also from a cardboard box, so I approve this method. I'm just...I'm incredibly happy that I have this.

I haven't been able to do much knitting lately. Teaching has kept me busy, and I've been dissertating, and I have a couple other writing projects that are occupying most of my free time. One of them is done, and should appear online soon. The other is a more long-term dealie, and I can't talk about it publicly yet. But! I have finished the second Must Have sleeve (second sleeve, same as the first) and I started the back during the Oscars--there's really nothing to see yet, though. I'm going to take it with me when I go to BOSTON! this weekend, and with 8 hours total travel time on the special Chinatown Express, I should get a lot done. Boston knitters: I would love to get together with you, but I'm afraid my friends have booked me solid for the weekend, including a side trip to New Hampshire for some snow tubing! Next time, I promise.

Oh, and I just have some grafting to do on my stepfather's hat. Yay! Stepfather's hat is basically done! Yay! No more presents! Except for the scarf I promised Jane back in October and the Superman scarf my brother wants...

VOTE!

That is, if you live in one of the Super Tuesday states and are a registered Democrat.

And have no outstanding parking tickets.

First of all, the RoTK song is "Into the West," not "Into the Wind."

Second, I think the Lord of the Rings franchise won more awards in previous years than I gave them credit for. But I'm too lazy and pressed for time to look it up.


For those of you who were less than enthralled with RoTK, I offer this optional title:
Now you know how I felt when Titanic swept. Actually, no you don't, because Titanic SUCKED.*

They definitely played it safe safe safe this year, and that was kinda boring. No bizarre dresses (notable exception: Samantha Morton--I'll look for pictures when I have more time), no surprises AT. ALL. And you can always count on one or two surprises. OK, maybe the win for Harvie Krumpet for Animated Short (over Destino), which by the way, was my brother's not-even-as-educated-as-mine guess (way to pull that one out of yer ass, bro), counts as a shocker--and it did allow for the only genuine gay boyfriend shout out of the evening (unless I wasn't paying enough attention to the other speeches, but frankly, I stopped listening to the RoTK gang after their 5th win). Otherwise, from a completely objective standpoint, last night? Kinda a yawner.

Let's start with the pre-show, shall we? Because I love my readers who didn't get to watch squat. I don't love them enough to get cable, so you'll have to make due with the crappy WB and ABC coverage. First, Keisha Castle-Hughes? Is friggin' ADORABLE. She looked very demure and beautiful, and when crappy WB guy asked who she most wanted to meet, without pausing she answered "Johnny Depp." Then she tried to explain why, but could only come up with, "Because he's Johnny Depp." Word, my sweet Keisha. Word. She said the same thing to the ABC guy who's not Chris Connelley, and that guy then arranged for her to meet Johnny Depp, who just went on and on about how wonderful she is, and my heart could not take it. That was SQUEE! moment #1.

Oh, and Johnny Depp? Hair cut, stubble shaved, dude's like 40 and he looked 25 at the most. Actually, at first glance he looked like Leonardo DiCaprio, which freaks me out, not just because it means that their casting in Gilbert Grape is retrospectively so perfect but because I really don't like Leonardo DiCaprio and would rather have my Johnny Depp untouched. About halfway through the show I really started hoping that he would win. But it just wasn't that kind of Oscar night.

Other hot men of the evening: Ken Watanabe, except he needs to lose the stubble. Few men can pull the light stubble look off (e.g., Peter Krause...mmmrrrow!). Djimon Hounsou, on the other hand, can wear any damn thing he wants. I would prefer it if Owen Wilson wouldn't wear anything. Elvis, who was indeed performing with Alison Krauss last night (SQUEE! moment #2), looked amazingly good.

You know what? All the women were gorgeous. Seriously. I was really wowed by Holly Hunter, and I loved Liv Tyler's dress (the glasses she kept taking on and off when announcing the first three songs, however? Not so much). Jamie Lee Curtis was rawkin' this blue chiffon cleavage-enhancing dress. But while they all looked beautiful, no one really stood out to me. Again, everyone played it safe.

Sean Connery started us off, and he was not wearing a pirate shirt. It would've been appropriate this year.

Billy Crystal back as host, and the opening film montage was pretty funny, I thought. Was a big preview, using digital manipulation to put him in each of the five nominated movies, with a loose plot about Crystal trying to get to the Oscars. Best moment: Michael Moore coming out during one of the RoTK battle scenes, scolding "Shame on you, hobbits!" and then getting stomped by an oliphaunt. Heh.

Crystal's traditional song montage, however, was as bland as I remember them being. Although I did appreciate the RoTK/"Favorite Things" bit. I think he screwed up a bit when talking about Monster, trying for a Mel Gibson Passion joke but losing the thread of it. That was weird.

I counted about 5 digs at the Bush administration, most of which did in fact center on same-sex marriage.** There was really only one explicitly political acceptance speech, by Errol Morris, and it was well done. And Sean Penn managed to slip something in about there being no WMDs. Tim Robbins did use his time to address the issue of abuse, which makes sense, but I'm not sure you can call it political in the sense that I thought it would be. Still, it was classy. And he was wearing a peace pin. I love Tim Robbins. If you haven't seen Bob Roberts yet--what's wrong with you?

Blake Edwards was awesome.

The tribute to Bob Hope was well done by Tom Hanks. The tribute to Katherine Hepburn by Julia Roberts was obnoxious--she just can't even pretend it's not about her, can she? Shut up, Julia. And Gregory Peck DOESN'T get his own separate tribute? BULLSHIT. That really pissed me off. And please, say it with me: "At. Ick. Us." And did you notice, in the "In Memoriam" montage, that they put up Leni Riefenstahl right after Elia Kazan? Coincidence? Mmmmmmaybe.

I liked listening to all of the songs, but it's not hard to do when two of them are sung by Alison Krauss, one is sung by Annie Lennox (who looked and sounded unbefuckingLEEEEEVE-able, holy mother of god she gave me Minnesota chills, she did), one is by Eugene Levy and Catherine O'Hara dressed up as Mitch and Mickey (SQUEE! moment #3), and the other is a pretty groovy jazzy...um, ok. I went to the bathroom during that one and only caught the last few seconds. Bill Murray seemed to enjoy it, though.

Mike wanted to know what Adrian Brody, who made a big deal about The Kiss he planted on Halle Berry last year by mumbling something about a restraining order and then giving himself a spritz of Binaca, would have done if the winner had been Keisha Castle-Hughes.

OK, so I did call a lot of them--cool (but this one didn't take a lot of rocket science). RoTK did win everything it was nominated for, including Adapted Screenplay (I had picked American Splendor). I also missed on Costume Design, choosing Last Samurai over RoTK, and Animated Short Film, and Documentary Short Feature (it was Chernobyl Heart), and I'll count my vote switching in Best Supporting Actress as a loss, and of course, Sean Penn took home Best Actor. And I'm fine with that. I'm fine with all of it, really. There won't be another movie like Lord of the Rings, at least not for a long long time.

I just want to mention that it took until the very end of the show for it to hit me that Lost in Translation was the only really original movie to be nominated for best picture.

One of my all-time favorite commercials was dusted off and brought back for the Oscars. It's the one with Martin Scorsese at the photo developing place--"I've lost the narrative thread!" Cracks me up every time. "Timmy, how'd you like to turn five again?" Priceless.

OK, folks, did I miss anything?


* Except for Victor Garber, of course.
** I find it curious, however, that there were two married couples presenting awards last night--Will and Jada, Tim and Susan. Would three have made it too obvious? Or was that just coincidence?